There were several things that Shishido knew about Chotarou that others did not.

First of all, he could always tell when Chotarou was lying, because he would look to the left a lot. It didn't matter that Chotarou was a horrible liar anyway, and a first-grader with ADHD could tell if the tall boy wasn't telling the truth; it was something that only Shishido knew, and that made it special.

Secondly, he had learned early on that Chotarou really was just as soft-spoken as he appeared to be, but still somehow managed to love horror flicks. Especially ones with zombies. They would never watch one when they were with the team – Oshitari always wanted a chick flick, Jirou went for cheesy kung-fu movies, and Atobe just got Kabaji to bring out the latest blockbuster (which never included zombies, oddly enough) – but, when he and Chotarou were alone, they would pull out the goriest, most cringe-worthy thing in their shared collection. It didn't matter that Shishido didn't particularly like zombies, or watching said zombies eat some poor redneck's brain, but sitting in the dark with Chotarou's hand in his more than made up for it.

Finally, he always knew which hand Chotarou was using when they did more than just hold hands. Sure, it was pretty obvious, what with the obvious callouses on the tips of the fingers of his right hand, and the fact that he talked about violin to everyone, but it didn't matter; in the end, the one getting to feel what those calloused fingers could do was Shishido, and no one else.

Which was why, as they quickly forgot about the movie and began to take more interest in each other, Shishido couldn't help but get turned on when he felt those fingers snaking their way under his shirt. The physical feeling was great, sure, but it was completely topped by the thought that no one else would ever get to feel it besides him.

"Ch-Chotarou…"

He felt hot breath against his neck as Chotarou leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "Hai, Shishido-san?"

Oh, god. The –san was even better than the fingers.

Shishido moaned as he felt the warmth of Chotarou's hand roaming across his torso. "I want… Chotarou…"

Shishido could feel Chotarou smiling through the kisses he had begun to plant on the side of his sempai's neck. "Want what…?"

Shishido decided that words were no longer his best option, and that the best route to take was the one with the most contact. So, foregoing any kind of conversation - which would become meaningless in seconds, anyway – he grabbed Chotarou's hand and shoved it as far into his pants as he could.

It wasn't very far, since he was wearing jeans, but Chotarou's surprised gasp, followed by his sudden attempts to undo the button of said jeans, let Shishido know that those calloused fingers were definitely going to go where he wanted them to. In moments, the shorter boy's pants and boxers were around his ankles, and Chotarou was pumping him in a steady rhythm, up and down, never too quickly.

"Ch-Chota-" Shishido's words were cut off as he felt his partner's grip tightened suddenly, causing him to gasp. He thrust against that hand, to communicate without using words that he wanted Chotarou to hurry. But, when he looked up, he was surprised to see that the silver-haired boy was grinning mischieviously.

The mischievious grin was another thing that Shishido knew about Chotarou that others did not. The taller boy rarely showed it; in its place would be a small, innocent smile, or a downward twist of the lips that showed his embarrassment. He was only keen on breaking out that smile during times like this, where he was planning something, and Shishido had never yet been able to guess what it was. Their same-wavelength frames of mind didn't work if one didn't see a particular look of the other's often enough.

This time, Chotarou slowly removed his hand from Shishido's cock and, just as slowly, brought that hand up to his mouth, where he began to lick his fingers so slowly that Shishido growled impatiently.

"Chotarou, so help me, if you don't-"

He stopped talking, however, as soon as he saw what Chotarou's other hand was doing. The tall boy had been busy undoing his own pants, and now he was slowly slipping them off. Shishido had just enough time to register that Chotarou was basically giving him a striptease before his control snapped and he was upon the taller boy, yanking off his pants in rough, short motions, not caring for seduction at this point. Chotarou's surprised squeak was swallowed as his mouth – still home to two of his fingers – was relentlessly plundered by Shishido's tongue.

After a short moment, in which the two boys' tongues danced fiercely against each other and around Chotarou's fingers, the taller of the pair murmured urgently, "Sh-Shishido-san, w-wait…!"

Quickly, Shishido pulled back, knowing from experience that Chotarou usually meant it when he used that tone. However, as soon as he caught sight of the other boy's flushed face and swollen lips, he groaned loudly. It was difficult to restrain himself from jumping the younger boy in situations like these, especially when it had been so long since… well, since the last time they had really gotten anywhere.

Another of Chotarou's secrets – at least, something that only Shishido knew about him; it wasn't exactly a secret, but people generally didn't go around asking about things like this, so therefore only Shishido knew about it – was that Chotarou was mortally afraid of being walked in upon. Shishido, while understanding that it was really lame to have someone catch you in the act, was still a healthy teenage boy, and thus could find himself, on occasion, not caring if they were in public or somewhere more private. Chotarou, on the other hand, would never let him get carried away; he would only go further than kissing when he new for sure that no one was around to witness them doing whatever it was they were doing. Thus, the numbers of times they had actually done it before was severely limited – a fact that Shishido was set on correcting as soon as possible.

While lost in his reverie, Shishido realized that Chotarou's hand – the one that had survived their battle of tongues – had crept down the length of his torso and was now sneaking between his thighs, back into that spot that only he and Shishido had felt before.

"Chotarou, what are you…?"

Chotarou began to moan, and Shishido realized with a gulp that his partner was fingering himself, preparing himself, and that in a few short moments it would be Shishido's turn to feel that tight heat – albeit with a very different part of his body than the one Chotarou was using.

Chotarou's eyes were glazed, unfocused, and yet Shishido felt as though they were piercing straight through his own as the taller boy stared at him, face much more flushed than before, panting heavily, fingers moving in and out slowly. "Shi-Shido…san… I want…"

He moaned suddenly, loudly, and Shishido lost whatever restraint he had been holding himself back with. He scrambled over to his discarded pants and swiftly retrieved a bottle of lube from one of the pockets. By the time he made it back to Chotarou, the younger boy was already on his back, legs spread ever so slightly in invitation.

Shishido was breathing heavily, so heavily that he wondered if he was going to hyperventilate; as quickly as he could, he spread the lube on his swollen cock, hissing slightly at the chill of the substance on his cold skin.

Then, finally, they were ready. Shishido positioned himself between Chotarou's legs and, after receiving an affirming nod from his partner, gently pushed himself forward, into the silver-haired boy's awaiting entrance.

They groaned in unison at the familiar yet almost-forgotten feelings of entering and being entered, and Shishido found that he was unconsciously leaning forward, pressing himself against Chotarou's body and further inside of him at the same time. He was pleased to feel his kouhai trembling beneath him, but he couldn't smirk; he could only gasp in amazement as he felt his hips touch Chotarou's ass.

Now fully encased in his partner, Shishido slowly began to move back and forth, in and out, while Chotarou squirmed and whimpered beneath him, still getting over the discomfort of his position. Shishido knew that, while Chotarou never minded being the one on the bottom, it was still painful for him, and so he slowed his motions, planning to wait until Chotarou was more comfortable to go any faster.

To his surprise, though, Chotarou groaned and suddenly thrust up against him, panting out, "Shishido-san, please-! Hurry!"

Apparently Chotarou didn't like waiting, either. Another thing that only Shishido would ever know about his kouhai – that is, unless he started standing up for himself a bit more. But this was not the time for such musings.

Complying with his Chotarou's request, Shishido began to rock against him faster, causing him to moan loudly. Then, finally, Chotarou gave a loud cry that signaled two things: Shishido had just found that spot inside of him that made him incoherent, and that now the remnants of Chotarou's polite mask were completely thrown away. Shishido loved when he could get his seemingly-innocent partner to act this way; it turned him on in a different way than the innocence did, and it felt stronger, more intense. It felt as if they were down to nothing but raw instinct and animalistic need.

Chotarou continued to cry out as Shishido pounded into him, continually aiming for that spot. The air was filled with their cries and moans, as well as the sounds emanating from where their bodies were joined. Soon enough, Shishido felt himself being pushed closer and closer to the edge, and he grunted as he slid himself almost all of the way out of his partner. Chotarou looked up at him with a confused, desperate expression.

Shishido managed to smirk as he wrapped a hand lightly around Chotarou's erection, causing the younger boy to gasp, and then he thrust into him with more force than he ever had before, pumping his kouhai furiously. He felt Chotarou tighten around him, saw pearls of white liquid shoot out of his tip, and heard the one thing that made him shiver no matter how hot the sex had made him.

"Shi-shi-do-san… daisu…ki…!"

Shishido felt himself cum as soon as those words reached his ears, and he had to fight not to squeeze his eyes shut with the force of it; he wanted to see Chotarou in this moment, mask fallen away, laid bare before him with no hesitance or doubt.

He wasn't entirely sure if he had cried out something similar, or something completely different, but when he was finished he slumped tiredly against his partner, grinning, and breathed out, "Chotarou… daisuki."

The grin that crossed Chotarou's face made him remember one last thing that only he knew about his quiet, sweet kouhai; he never laughed at Shishido when he was trying to be romantic.