Ogata Seiji had once been informed that it was entirely normal for people to have sexual fantasies that had nothing to do with the person or things they actually desired. Admittedly, the person who told him this had been trying to explain away why she’d called someone else’s name in bed with him, but he thought it was true enough. He did not, after all, have the slightest desire to actually take most of his go opponents to bed, and yet the one thing that would reliably get him off was remembering a heated game. The click of stones onto the board, so faint and so intense when a decisive move was made; the line of smooth white or black, curling around space itself, so subtly that the opponent should not even notice until it was too late; the sudden stillness of an opponent’s fingers on their stones when they did see; those were the things he thought of that made him purr into a lover’s ear so promisingly that most of them seemed surprised to be tossed out the next morning as soon as he needed to study.

Those were the things he thought of when he was alone, too, spreading his legs and leaning back against the cool softness of hotel sheets, fingers wrapped around his cock. He closed his eyes, stroking slow and firm, and remembered today’s game. The cut he’d waited eight turns to make, lulling the opponent into thinking he’d missed the possibility. The attack he’d made during the endgame, right when his opponent had thought he had the upper corner all wrapped up, oh yes. Seiji tipped his head back against the give of the pillows, panting as heat curled slow and heavy in his stomach, fingers working harder. The fury in the click of the next stone, mmmm yes. The narrowing of his opponent’s eyes…

An image of Kuwabara’s evil old eyes, narrowed amid their wrinkles and bags flashed into his mind. Seiji choked, eyes flying open, and snatched his hand off his cock. He felt like he’d run into a brick wall and been doused with freezing water into the bargain.

Seiji rolled over as his erection wilted, and groaned into the pillows. Damn it, damn it, damn it. That picture was a more effective libido-killer than anything, up to and including being laughed at. He sighed, muffled; really, he should probably know better than to use his games with Kuwabara for this. It was too easy to slip, and there went his evening’s pleasure.

But they were the best games.

He couldn’t help laughing at himself a little, because he could see the humor in his dilemma, and rolled back over to stare up at the ceiling, smiling faintly. All right, so today’s game was off limits. Shame, that, it had been a good one. Perhaps all wasn’t entirely lost for the evening, though. Opponents came and went, but go itself never abandoned him. If he just thought of the board, still and golden with all the possible moves hidden in its simple lines. Of the stones, cool to his touch and silky smooth, weighing so little to carry all the force they did.

Mmm, yes, that was better.

Seiji fixed his mind on the flow of smooth stones through his fingers and stroked his cock slow and hard, smiling with closed eyes.

End