"It goes right here," Ogata insisted.
"I don't want it to go there," Ashiwara objected. "It's uncomfortable."
Ogata looked a bit taken aback. "You've never complained before."
"I was being polite," Ashiwara replied, smiling through clenched teeth.
"Look, if you're cold, put on a sweater," Ogata said finally. "The thermostat stays there."
"I'm already wearing a sweater," Ashiwara pointed out patiently, the same way he did to children who had no aptitude for Go but were determined anyway.
Ogata looked heavenward, as if praying for strength, and finally conceded that he could perhaps seal the windows in the apartment.
Ashiwara favored him with a pleased smile, although he knew for a fact that Ogata's reasonableness was in direct proportion to how long he had been getting a steady supply of sex. If Ashiwara was going to live through the winter, he was going to have to buy more lube.
When Ashiwara had considered the prospect of moving in with Ogata, he had entertained visions of happy domestic life -- eating meals together, relaxing on the couch together while Ashiwara watched the television and Ogata squinted at his laptop, sleeping together and perhaps even bathing together. It seemed, on the whole, the culmination of his dreams since the age of fifteen, and Ogata seemed equally pleased with settling down a bit, especially since Ashiwara obviously wasn't going to nag him about being gone every other weekend for Go tournaments.
He just hadn't quit envisioned some of the difficulties he encountered. He couldn't decide what to call Ogata since they had taken such a step to formalizing their relationship, and he feared the thermostat wars were only going to escalate in hostilities.
He bought an electric blanket to put on his side of the bed. Ogata had looked a bit perplexed that there were definite sides to the bed, but gamely surrendered the right half. Ashiwara was currently warm and toasty with the blanket tucked around him. He admitted that it was even better with Ogata pressed firmly against his backside, since the man was a human furnace, but when they were apart, the heated blanket was almost as good. Almost.
"Did you dunk your feet in ice water?" Ogata asked almost absently, his eyes on the net Go game he was playing.
Ashiwara happily wiggled his toes, which he had tucked under Ogata's thigh. Toasty. Better than a fire. He turned on his favorite game show, and settled in.
"Your toes really are cold," Ogata observed.
"They'll be warm in a minute," Ashiwara said, all calm assurance.
He didn't miss Ogata rolling his eyes, nor the hand that settled gently on his ankle.
"Didn't we have this conversation already?" Ogata asked as he came in.
Ashiwara tasted the soup cooking away on the stove, and then said, "Welcome home. Which conversation?"
Ogata looked at him steadily. "The one involving the thermostat, and don't touch or else."
"Oh," Ashiwara said, and considered. "Well, you weren't home, so I didn't think it really mattered."
Ogata got a funny, pinched look on his face. "Really."
"Well, you wouldn't have known if you hadn't come home early," Ashiwara said defensively.
When Ogata pushed him up hard against the kitchen counter, Ashiwara thought that maybe he could have come up with a better reason.
"Let me explain this again. If you're cold, you can always put more clothes on," Ogata breathed into his ear, and moved his hands down Ashiwara's sides to linger, hard and persuasive, on his hips. "If I'm hot, on the other hand, I can only strip."
Ashiwara heard his belt hit the ground with a faint clink.
"And if," Ogata continued, "I run out of clothes to take off, you know what that means?"
"Um?" Ashiwara said, as intelligently as he could considering that Ogata had one hand rubbing his nipple under his shirt and the other down his pants.
Ogata smiled predatorily. "I take yours."
"Last match in the round tomorrow," Ogata said, climbing back into bed after going outside to smoke. He was cold, but Ashiwara wasn't going to complain -- especially since Ogata had actually refrained from smoking in the apartment, as agreed. In retrospect, if Ashiwara hadn't been so elated over that victory during their pre-moving in negotiations, he wouldn't have so hastily agreed to the thermostat issue. "Nervous about Kurata?"
"No," Ashiwara said, simply and honestly, putting his book face-down on the nightstand.
Ogata clicked off the bedside lamp, and settled in. "Keep this new-found centeredness of yours, and I think you can do it."
"Yes, sensei," Ashiwara said, his tone sweet enough to take the sting out of the sarcasm.
Ogata snorted and moved closer, his breath stirring the hair at the nape of Ashiwara's neck and his hands traveling lower. After a moment, he asked, "Just how many layers are you wearing?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Ashiwara said, smiling into the darkness.
"I don't need to know, if I can just..." Ogata wrestled with Ashiwara's pajamas for another minute, before catching the layers and yanking them down to expose Ashiwara's backside.
"Hey," Ashiwara objected, "that used to be warm."
"More like hot, I'd say," Ogata said, and Ashiwara could hear the leer.
"Quit, I have a match tomorrow," Ashiwara said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice.
"Then this is for good luck," Ogata said, moving one hand down the front of Ashiwara's pants and groping his erection, before moving down to gently cup the warm weight of his testicles.
Ashiwara heard Ogata rummaging around in the nightstand next, and huffed. "Aren't you going a little fast?"
"You're the one who was getting all hot and bothered from reading a dirty book," Ogata said in his ear before swiping it with his tongue.
"It wasn't dirty," Ashiwara argued, mildly offended.
"It had pirates," Ogata said. "Don't tell me that cabinboy didn't get it good."
Ashiwara would have denied it, but Ogata chose that moment to push two lubed fingers in, and he ended up moaning embarrassingly instead.
"Maybe nobody else would have known would have known what our dear, innocent Ashiwara was reading," Ogata said, his voice low, moving his fingers slowly in and out. "But I knew. Under all these clothes, you were hard here, right?" he asked, pinching one of Ashiwara's nipples while driving his fingers in quickly. Ashiwara cried out, his head thrown back over Ogata's shoulder. "Here, too," Ogata murmured against Ashiwara's throat, his hand trailing down Ashiwara's chest to stroke his erection. "Hard and ready and a little wet, am I right?" He brushed his thumb over the head, and Ashiwara bit his lip and gasped.
"I--" Ashiwara writhed, wanting too many things at once -- wanting to drive himself back onto Ogata's long fingers, wanting Ogata to molest his neck with clever lips and tongue and nipping teeth, wanting to push forward into Ogata's grip and come his brains out. He was sweating now, hot and damp and at Ogata's mercy. "Please!"
"Hmm?" Ogata said in a pretense of casualness, before sucking hard Ashiwara's neck. "Please who?"
"Please, Ogata....san!" Ashiwara gasped out, putting a hand over the one Ogata had clasped over his erection.
"You can do better," Ogata purred. "I'm not sure if you want it enough."
"Seiji!" Ashiwara cried out desperately, and he felt Ogata still behind him for a moment. But Ogata said nothing -- he just drew his fingers out, pushed Ashiwara from his side onto his stomach, and pressed himself in.
Ashiwara lost track of things after that, because his pajama pants were somewhere around his knees, and Ogata pulled his shirt up enough to tangle it around his wrists. Ogata held them down over Ashiwara's head, pinning Ashiwara down and thrusting in hard. Ashiwara murmured pleas, muffled against the mattress, and Ogata seemed past teasing and playing games, his hips snapping forward in a desperate rhythm.
Ogata slowed abruptly, thrusting in slower but harder and right there, his chest slick against Ashiwara's back, exhaling sharply in Ashiwara's ear each time his hips met Ashiwara's buttocks. "God, yes, Ashiwara," he groaned, rotating his hips and reaching under them both to thumb the top of Ashiwara's cock.
Ashiwara couldn't last anymore, not with Ogata picking up the pace and pounding away at that angle, the motion pushing Ashiwara's cock back and forth in Ogata's grip. He tensed and whimpered through his orgasm, Ogata thrusting fast and uneven and gripping Ashiwara's hips as he ground to a halt, emptying himself into Ashiwara with long, low groan.
Ogata rolled off after a moment, panting but keeping Ashiwara close.
"I'm hot," Ashiwara said after he could entertain the idea of talking again.
"Isn't it a good idea, then, that we have the thermostat set low?" Ogata asked, just a bit smugly.
Ashiwara would have hit him with a pillow, but that seemed like too much effort. "And my pajamas are a mess."
"Borrow some of mine," Ogata said through a yawn. "Or sleep nude."
Ashiwara rolled his eyes, and listened to Ogata's breath slow and even out. "I bet you don't even know my given name," he muttered, and stumbled out of bed to change.
There were, Ashiwara reasoned, relatively few Go professionals who had to endure seiza and a pleasantly sore behind at the same time. He smiled at Shindou and Akira at the goban next to him, relatively appalled at himself for thinking about such indecent things around two innocent teenagers.
Akira was looking a bit under the weather, fidgeting a bit uncharacteristically. Ashiwara hoped he wasn't ill -- he and Shindou so looked forward to these match games.
Kurata sat down across from Ashiwara, and Ashiwara took a deep breath, and found that calm center again.
Later, at a bar that had been commandeered for celebration, Ogata called for quiet and raised his glass. "To Ashiwara, who has finally made it to the third round of the Meijin tournament, where I will promptly eat him up." Everyone laughed and cheered, and Ashiwara felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment at his long-awaited victory, and at Ogata's not-so-subtle double entendre.
After a probably inadvisable amount of drinking, Ashiwara slumped next to Ogata, carelessly resting his head on Ogata's shoulder. "I'm really drunk," he announced, in case it wasn't obvious. People kept buying him drinks and he was just too polite to refuse.
"I noticed," Ogata said dryly, lighting up a cigarette.
"Can we go home?" he asked.
Ogata exhaled thoughtfully. "You don't think they'll miss you, Ashiwara?"
Ashiwara frowned at him. "You're always calling me that. I call you by your first name."
"You called me by my first name for the first time last night, during sex. Did you want me to cry yours out during orgasm?" Ogata asked, one eyebrow arched mockingly.
"No," Ashiwara said sulkily, rather hurt at Ogata making fun at his expense.
Ogata leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I want to reserve it for special circumstances. And I'd rather spell it out -- with my tongue, in your--"
"Ogata-san!" Ashiwara interrupted, totally scandalized.
Ogata just smiled. "I do it all the time, you know."
Ashiwara buried his face in his hands. "Oh my god. Only you could pervert my name like that."
"Well," Ogata said, stubbing out his cigarette and standing up. "Let's go home, and I'll show you how it's done."
"Oh my god," Ashiwara repeated.
"Or we could do it in the car," Ogata suggested, his voice dripping with promise.
"The car is freezing, and there's no room," Ashiwara pointed out.
"Never stopped us before. And it's not like you'll care, by the time I start spelling out 'hi' 'ro' 'yu' 'ki'," Ogata said, collecting their coats and ushering Ashiwara out the door.
"Will you stop?" Ashiwara groaned.
"You really like 'ro'," Ogata continued on mercilessly.
"Will you quit talking and unlock your car already? It's cold out here!" Ashiwara said, rubbing his hands together.
And when Ashiwara turned the heat in the car all the way up, for once, Ogata didn't say a word.