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Prompt: Frost
Written for the Porn Battle. As such, this is pure smut.
Hikaru no Go was created by Hotta and Obata and distributed by Viz, Shogakuen and Shonen Jump.


Touya Akira thinks that the frost in his heart has always been there. When he should be upset, he is calm. When he should be frantic, he is collected. When he should be caring, he is steel.

His heart has always been carefully encased in ice; except when Shindou Hikaru has something to do with it.

Today is no different as he finds himself pinned to a wall, sweaty hands moving firmly over his skin, swollen lips sucking at his neck, and an impressive erection pushing at his thigh. The heat spreading over his body is overwhelming, and as the fire spreads through him, he claims Hikaru's lips as his own, pushing back with an intensity that only Shindou Hikaru is allowed to see.

They tumble to the bed, clothes falling in their wake, and Akira, naked and wanting, presses himself against Hikaru's willing body, licking and kissing every part of him he can reach. Somebody groans, and Akira reaches blindly for the lube that he keeps near the bed just for nights like this one.

Unable to wait, he bites at Hikaru's navel, sloppily pouring lube over his fingers and thrusting one deep inside Hikaru. The blond-banged boy cries out, and his raven-haired rival relishes in the sound, hastily sliding another finger in and then another until it is all he can do to hold back from pounding into the writhing body beneath him.

Before he will give in to his need, he takes Hikaru's length into his mouth completely in one motion, pinning the arching boy to the bed with his free hand. Akira wants his rival to feel him, in every sense of the word, and he sucks at him greedily, pouring the passion the lithe teen invokes into his very being. It's the only way he knows to show Hikaru how he makes Akira feel.

He grows impatient, removing his fingers and pulling himself up to lay above his lover and takes no time thrusting into him. His need is too great to allow Hikaru time to adjust. Besides, he knows Hikaru loves him like this. It is the very reason he is here at all, so late at night.

He thrusts into Hikaru quickly, and when he feels he can't get deep enough, he pulls the others' legs over his shoulders to gain that much more depth to his strokes. There is nothing gentle about their love-making just as there is nothing gentle about their Go. As the words go unspoken in their games, so too does the silence prevail here.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy panting and the slap of flesh against flesh as Akira pounds into Hikaru, and as climax draws near, the only spoken words are each others' names in the form of hoarse shouts of fulfillment.

When they are finished and their bodies are spent, they take little time to relish in the afterglow. It's as if they are afraid to indulge themselves, lest their unspoken agreement be broken. Shindou Hikaru gathers his clothes and leaves without a word; the sheen of fresh sweat still lingering on his body as he walks out into the night air.

Akira showers and climbs into bed, refusing to go over the nights' events in his mind. But think about it or not, he knows that like this wasn't the first time Hikaru has come to him in the night, it will not be the last.

And if he were to be honest with himself, he would know that the lingering frost in his heart is slowly melting by the sunshine that is Shindou Hikaru.

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Prompt: Opaque
Written for the Porn Battle. As such, this is pure smut. Oh, and angst, because I always manage to fit that in somewhere. *Emos*
Hikaru no Go was created by Hotta and Obata and distributed by Viz, Shogakuen and Shonen Jump.

Losing Faith

Shindou Hikaru knows exactly what he wants from Touya Akira. He wants to be part of his Go, he wants his intensity and passion on and off the Go board, and above all else, he wants his love.

In his more cynical moments, he thinks two out of three ain't bad.

Hikaru thinks Touya Akira is being deliberately opaque, but he doesn't dare to speak his mind; not when he can't even be sure of the fragile existence of what they have only at night. Touya never turned him down, but then, he never said much of anything at all. It is no kind of relationship, but Hikaru is grudgingly willing to take what he can get.

When the feelings become too much and his own hands not enough, he comes to Akira.

When he arrives, he is the initiator, kissing and touching as much of his midnight lover as he can reach, but it never takes Akira long to turn the tide, effectively taking the control and leaving Hikaru powerless to his ministrations. In moments, their clothes are shed. There is no time for any real sense of foreplay, and there is no room for words – Akira makes sure of that. His rushed preparation is as good as it's going to get, and after only a few minutes Akira is slamming into him with an intensity that makes his Go look like a joke. It hurts every time, but Hikaru loves the pain if it means that he gets to have Akira like this.

Today he is extra sensual, crossing wires in Hikaru's heart and mind as his body burns with desire in the wake of the able fingers running down his sides on their path to pull up his legs and grant his raven-haired lover the depth he demands. After all, this is what Hikaru comes here for; to get what little Touya Akira is willing to give. But as with any bargain, to get what he wants he must allow his rival to take his share.

Akira seems less restrained; his kisses sloppier and his grasp more desperate as he pumps into Hikaru. He is coming to a climax, and their slick bodies slide against each other; the friction maddening. And then it comes – that moment of white hot explosion accompanied by his given name pouring from his temporary lovers' lips, and he responds in kind, for this is the only time they are permitted to speak on these occasions, and it is the only time he is Hikaru, Akira's Lover rather than Shindou, Touya's Go Rival.

There is a moment – just one and no longer – where he is permitted to hold Akira as a true lover might, which is always broken by the slight shifting of his rival. He wonders what would happen if he refused to take this cue, but he has never attempted it. He wants to, and he thinks he just might someday, but for now, he climbs out of the bed and collects his clothes. His skin is still sticky and wet, and he smells of sex and that distinct Akira scent, for he has put on his shirt by accident, but doesn't bother to fix the mistake.

He briefly considers how long they could possibly do this, and he can't help but feel that something is keeping Akira in the dark, and try as it might, the light he was named after can't get through. Everything about their midnight encounters is obscure, and Hikaru is starting to lose faith.

But faith or not, it never takes him long to wind up on Touya Akira's doorstep in the middle of the night.

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Title: Shifting

Author: hostilecrayon

Pairing: Akihika

Rating: NC-17

Prompt: Shove

Warnings: Smut. Angst. Angsty smut.

I have been planning a sequel to the companion pieces Melting and Losing Faith for a long time. I think it's only right that the sequel come in the form of yet another Porn Battle entry, as that was the one and only inspiration for the first two pieces. So this is my attempt at writing a piece that can both stand alone and tie up the very messy loose ends in the first two pieces. …Which of course led me to have to write a fourth piece to tie it up – how very like me.

Some people I'd like to mention – Gem Chibati for being the inspiration behind the name for the collective works in this series – Juxtaposition. Everyone who asked for a sequel – I can't remember everyone, but Tininess, Kelkatan (my ever faithful sis/reader/reviewer/soundboard/beta!), ariadnechan and lacygrey mentioned it in my LJ comments, so kudos for finally getting what you asked for! Took me long enough, heh. And lastly, oxoniensis for creating and continuing to host the Porn Battle, without which this series – and tons of awesome fandom works – would not exist. I applaud you.


Their nocturnal love affair, if one could call it that, has become a much more frequent thing than Hikaru is willing to admit, if in fact he were admitting anything to anyone at all. Being a thing of silence – not only to friends, but amongst themselves as well – the only person he isn't admitting it to is himself. Instead, he's noticing how hungry Akira's lips have become, devouring him with a ferocity that he is used to by now. He's also noticing how Akira's fingers are questing over his body in a way he is not quite as used to.

Some people wouldn't pick up on such small signals, but this is Hikaru, and when it comes Akira, he misses nothing. It is no surprise that between being slammed against a wall, stripped, and his penis engulfed by Akira's warm mouth, he can feel the tenderness in the hands roaming his body; a slight hesitation here, a gentle caress there. It is enough to push Hikaru over an edge that has nothing to do with the talented tongue massaging his cock.

But as with every other time he's appeared on Akira's doorstep this late at night, there is no room for words. When Akira has had his fill of Hikaru's length in his mouth, Hikaru lets him throw him on the bed and take him in the way that no other man has.

It's not just his imagination that turns their frantic sex into something more. He just isn't sure what that something more is.

Everything feels different to him. The caresses are curious, but it's the gentle thrust of Akira's hard cock into his body that gives him pause. His raven-haired rival fixes him with a piercing stare, and he reminds himself to move. Akira is suddenly kissing him, and it's all lips and tongue and teeth. He tastes himself, he tastes Akira, and it makes him tingle down to his very toes. They've kissed before, but something about this kiss held an intimacy that their encounters had been lacking.

Hikaru reminds himself not to read too much into it.

When he comes, he screams as he always does, but there's something more to it this time. "Akira, I…"

He stops, his eyes wide. Akira freezes. This is not in the rules; the rules that only Akira understands. It is only one extra syllable, and yet it holds so much more.

A moment passes in silence. Another. Then time starts moving again as Akira chooses to ignore it.

When Akira collapses against Hikaru, their skin slick with sweat, Hikaru holds Akira like he does every time. It is, after all, the biggest reason he is with Akira at this ungodly hour of the morning. What he doesn't do is take Akira's cue that the brief allotment of afterglow is up. The subtle yet familiar shifting goes unheeded. If anything, Hikaru clings tighter to Akira.

Akira tries again, nearly bucking Hikaru away from him. Still, it heeds no results.

"Akira…" Hikaru breathes, not knowing what to say, but no longer able to hold his tongue as he has so many nights before.

"Shindou," Akira growls, and Hikaru feels the use of his family name like a kick to the stomach.

More long moments of silence pass as Hikaru tries to catch his breath, to look up, damn it, because tears are not the answer. When Akira shoves him forcefully from his bed, he falls to the floor, thinking that he doesn't know the answer.

He doesn't know what he's doing when he gets up, feeling exposed in ways he never has before, and gathers his clothes to his chest. He clutches them there before slowly dressing, all the while feeling Akira's eyes locked on him.

When he reaches the door, he does not look back, merely standing in front of it and staring resolutely at the silver knob. It takes a lot of courage, but he thinks if Akira can shove, so can he.

"I want you," he begins slowly, and Akira's sharp intake of breath does not go unnoticed in his small pause, "but not like this."

He does not give Akira a chance to respond as he all but bolts from the room.

Chapter Text

R for sexual references.

Here we are with the promised fourth piece to Juxtaposition. As all the pieces before it, it is meant to be able to stand alone for the Porn Battle X, but is part of the Juxtaposition series.

Prompt: Fear



Akira sits alone in the darkness and tries not to think every night that Shindou does not come. One week becomes two, two becomes four, and still, he is alone. It is starting to interfere with his games, but unlike everything else in his perfectly controlled universe, he is powerless to do anything about it.

A less stubborn man would have made a move by now. But he is no more stubborn than Shindou, and in his more delirious moments he thinks the phrase 'two peas in a pod' would sum them up quite nicely if only it didn't make him think about other things. Forbidden things.

It's not a surprise that Shindou is not conforming to his standards; after all, he never has. Shindou takes the rules and rewrites them in a language only he can read, and he continues to breech Akira's boundaries without even trying. Secretly, Akira is sure this is a major part of the magnetic power Shindou holds over him.

It's after their first match together since the night Shindou walked out that Akira gets a knock at his door at one o'clock in the morning. He finds his heart is beating as erratically as their earlier game of Go had been, and he wastes no time pressing his lips to Shindou's before he was even inside. For three long seconds, Akira lost himself, standing in his apartment complex hallway, where everything just felt right.

Then Shindou's hands were pushing him away, and reason caved in on him as he stepped back into the safety of him apartment, his hand still on Shindou's shirt, dragging him inside with him.

Akira doesn't want to talk. He wants to pull Shindou close and ravish him as he has so many times before, but he's known Shindou for long enough to know that the look on his face was one of determination, and so he drops his hand awkwardly and looks anywhere but into Shindou's eyes.

He's been cool and calm through his entire life, but something about the man standing in front of him sets him on fire. His cheeks color, and he feels more exposed than any of the times he's fucked Shindou in earnest.

Shindou takes a step forward, and they are mere inches apart. When he speaks, it is merely a whisper, as if the words were for no one but Akira. "I love you, in every sense of the word. I've been chasing after you for what feels like a lifetime. You used to call for me to catch up to you."

Shindou takes a breath, and Akira's heart stops in his throat. Love. He knew that was where this was going, but he still feels blindsided by hearing it said aloud. Said to him, for him, and no one else. Akira finds it impossible to speak, and Shindou's eyes search Akira's face for something that Akira cannot fathom in his moment of emotion. The ice in his heart is all but gone. It's something he doesn't know how to face.

Shindou grabs Akira's shoulders hard, forcing their eyes to meet. "Tell me it's not the same for you. Tell me I was nothing more than a good fuck for you, and I won't bother you with this ever again."

Logic tells Akira that this would be for the best; that across the goban is where they should be, not in Akira's apartment taking about love and sex. But he doesn't want to say those things to Shindou. He wants to say other things, things that won't come clear to his.

So Akira says nothing at all.

He wants to kiss Shindou, he wants to suck his cock and impale the lithe boy with his need. He wants to run his fingers over Shindou's pale skin, tug at his two-toned hair, make him cry out his given name.

But most of all, he wants to be able to let go. He wants to just be Akira, the man. He wonders if he could be that with Hikaru. And if he could, how long it would last.

It's not a surprise when Shindou turns to leave, but it hurts all the same, hurts in the way he's been trying to protect himself from. Yet again, Shindou gets the last word.

"If you want me, chase after me."

Akira stares after him for a long time. Then he carefully stretches his legs.

After all, it has been a while since he ran.

Chapter Text


Hikaru leans back against the cold tile of the shower, squeezes his eyes shut and jacks himself off out of pure necessity. He knows he should keep his mind carefully blank, but he can’t stop the visions of Touya sucking him off, or lifting his legs over his shoulders to push into him deeper, and he bites his lip, twists his hand just so and coats the shower door with his come.

He’s been waiting to see what Touya will do. He hasn’t gotten an answer yet, but tomorrow is their first official match since that night.

Hikaru rinses off the shower door and stumbles out of it. Looking into the fogged up mirror, he can tell he hasn’t been taking care of himself like he should. His eyes are red-rimmed and his bangs have started to grow out, showing just a hint of black at the roots. With slightly shaking hands, he pulls the bleach out of the cupboard. He wants to look his best for their game. Idly he thinks he probably should have done this before his shower.

Hikaru tries to concentrate on what he’s doing, but it’s impossible. The only coherent thing his brain can come up with is Touya. He wants to know so bad he can taste it, just like he can still taste the salt of Touya’s skin even now. But if the answer is no…

He doesn’t want to think about that. For Hikaru, there has only ever been Touya. Without him, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. Touya is supposed to be his eternal rival; it’s only logical that Hikaru have all of him.

He rinses his hair out in the sink and watches the color swirl down the drain until the water comes out clean. He looks at his reflection again. His hair is limp and sticking to his face, but the roots aren’t showing anymore. It’ll have to do.

His phone buzzes, and he almost jumps, snatching it off the counter and wiping off the fogged over screen. It’s from Touya.

Tomorrow, it says.

Hikaru clutches the phone tightly. Tomorrow. Everything is riding on tomorrow. He doesn’t bother to reply.

With a measured breath and a pounding heart, he flicks off the bathroom light.

All he can do is wait.

Chapter Text

On the Line

Their eyes lock as they take their seats – Shindou’s holding a challenge that Akira meets head on. They nigiri, and Akira wins black. Good, he can make his statement right away; no need to wait for Shindou to open. Without bothering to look down, Akira dips his fingers into the goke, flips a stone up into the play position with practiced ease and makes his move with a sharp pachi.

The crowd gasps, but Akira ignores them. There is only one person’s reaction he cares about right now, and his eyes are still locked with Akira’s, though Akira knows Shindou can see the board as well as he can. Shindou’s eyes glow with that brilliant passion he’s come to crave, and without hesitation, Hikaru answers Akira’s 5-5 with a 5-5 of his own. The moves call out to each other – they are vulnerable moves, moves only the most skilled players can make with confidence, but Akira thinks it is time to put himself on the line for Shindou.

It’s an intense game, neither of them backing down; both of them pushing their stones together so hard Akira is sure there should be sparks. Instead it’s all just background noise from the crowd as sweat drips down Akira’s back, and he’s biting his lip, but no matter how he looks at it, he can’t save himself. He knows he’s lost, and yet he doesn’t resign like the game calls for – he sees it through to the end; to the end with Shindou.

The officials count the territory, but Akira already knows he’s lost, and yet somehow he feels like he’s won. Shindou’s lips quirk upwards ever so slightly, and Akira grins. Then it’s a flurry of questions and polite discussion and pictures and Akira wishes he could just grab Shindou and flee because he’s been waiting for this moment for weeks, months, years – probably his entire life – and he damn well does not want to wait any longer. But he does, whether from his good upbringing or to avoid having to explain later, he’s not sure. When they’re finally free, though, as soon as they’re out of that room and away from prying eyes, Akira grabs hold of Shindou’s wrist and leads him to the train at a pace akin to a sprint.

They ride the train in silence, their words too personal for a public place. Akira refuses to let go of Shindou, and it earns him some strange glances, but Shindou doesn’t pull away, and that’s all that matters. Then they’re moving towards Akira’s apartment and all he can think is finally, finally, finally.

When Akira shuts the door, he pulls Shindou in and kisses him, long and deep and with all the emotions he’s been afraid to feel. His hands don’t wander – he doesn’t want Shindou to mistake this feeling for anything else – and instead he grips him tightly, holding him close enough to make it hard to breathe. Still, Akira wants to be closer. He wants Shindou in ways he didn’t know he could; in ways that he could only want Shindou Hikaru. Nothing could ever compare.

Shindou pulls back, his eyes searching Akira’s face with a closely guarded hope that makes Akira’s chest tight.

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaning his forehead against Shindou’s, drawn in by calculating green eyes.

Shindou swallows, and Akira feels it more than sees it. “I don’t want an apology. There’s only one thing I need to know.” Shindou’s hand trails down Akira’s face, floats lightly over the skin of his neck, and comes to a stop over his rapidly beating heart. Shindou’s voice lowers into a bastardized mix of gruff and husky as he says, “Am I in here?”

There is only one answer to that.