Title: 'The Games We Play'

By: Sei-chan-1999

Summary: I don't think much of basketball. But when the Clamp Campus University and school divisions are together and the hottest guys on campus are training, I suddenly find the sport a lot more engaging.

Rating: K+

Warning: A SubKam humor fic where I literally write from my own point of view. Seriously.

Disclaimer: I don't own Clamp or their characters. Because if I did, SubKam would've been canon.

XXX

'The Games We Play' By Sei-chan-1999.

I don't think much of the game. Seriously. Standing under that impossibly high ring and trying to figure out how I make that rock of a ball go through it is something engineers should be calculating in their high-tech labs.

At least playing basketball keeps you awake.

Watching it…if it weren't for all the hot guys on the stadium for training, I would've left my place in the stands by now to find a place to nap.

The coaches and teachers thought it would be an interesting idea to combine one college division and a high-school class together to 'encourage friendships that transcend age and grade'.

Over in one corner of the stadium, three of the college guys in their team shirts have cornered a teenager who's backed up against the lowest level of seats and by the look of it, he's going to be left without his shorts in approximately five seconds.

Yeah, right. Friendship.

The victimized boy is pretty cute. He's a new student at Clamp Academy named Shirou Kamui, with huge purple eyes and every single girl in our grade uses the excuse of 'checking-for-contact-lenses' to block his way and flirt.

Me included.

Another college guy walks over to them and I lean forward to see Kamui humiliated for life, but to my surprise, the newcomer says something calmly to the other three and I hold my breath, because this is getting good and I don't know if it's me or if the temperature's going up with every second. I suspect the latter and it's quite possible.

Sumeragi Subaru.

My sister's in the college division and like every girl there, she's in love. Unfortunately, half the guys in University are too and I can understand why. It's not everywhere you see those deep green eyes and a perfect stillness in a person, where you get the feeling that whatever you do, Subaru will accept it calmly and smile that soft smile of his. He doesn't go out of his way to look good and comes to college in what looks like the first things he managed to grab in the morning.

That complete obliviousness about himself is what makes him so irresistible.

The three older guys part reluctantly because Subaru is a lot older than the rest of the college students; he's twenty-five and he's supposed to be pretty famous in those ancient heritage circles of some sort.

Kamui slumps in relief and gets to Subaru's side quickly, using him to get away without having his modesty outraged.

They get to the centre of the field and Kamui stays with Subaru. They're both pretty unhappy about this whole activity. I can tell because Kamui keeps pulling at non-existent sleeves on his sleeveless team jersey and glaring at his shorts like they'll magically lengthen if he wills it to.

Subaru shuts his eyes a lot and his fingers keep going to his pocket for his omnipresent cigarette lighter before he realizes it's not there.

Kamui mutters something under his breath, wrapping his skinny arms around himself and Subaru looks down and says something that makes Kamui sigh and straighten up.

I wish I knew what it was.

The training session starts ten minutes later.

The pattern is familiar. All the girls in their uniforms make a group by themselves. The guys make their own. The college students stand together. The school group stays well out of their way.

And Kamui and Subaru are apart from everyone else.

Oh, no.

Please don't let this be true. I won't have a reason for living if this is what I think it is.

Kamui. And Subaru.

I'm interrupted when a coach blows a whistle and Kamui leaps like a scalded cat at the sound.

"Shirou-kun!" the coach calls. He looks pretty threatening and keeps trying to make people nervous by flexing his muscles.

"Sir!"

"Get a basketball from the storeroom. I want you back here in five minutes."

"Yes, sir!"

Kamui runs for his life and almost trips over Subaru's feet as he hurries towards the main building, his oversized clothes flapping.

He returns fifteen minutes later.

With a soccer ball.

Subaru spots him first. His eyes go wide (Green is officially now my favorite color) and he quickly shakes his head to silently signal Kamui to exchange the ball, but he's too late.

"Shirou-kun! What on Earth is the meaning of this?"

Kamui stands there, looking helpless, with the black and white ball in his hands.

"The basket-balls were all deflated," he says weakly and everyone bursts into laughter.

Except Subaru. He just regards Kamui carefully and there's something deep in his eyes that only I seem to notice.

My greatest nightmare is being played out right before me.

"I'll get it," Subaru offers and quickly rescues the soccer ball from Kamui's grip. He heads towards his own college gym room.

"As a penalty for the delay caused by Shirou-kun," the coach announces dramatically, shooting the teams a filthy glance, "Everyone here will run five laps around the field when Sumeragi-san returns."

Kamui is too slow to defend himself when five people lunge at him at once.

XXX

"It's okay, just look at the ball."

"I am."

"Try hitting it."

"What do I like I'm doing, Subaru?!"

"You're petting it."

Kamui dribbles the ball to the edge of the field, following the line he's bouncing it on and sighs irritably.

"Your turn," he says and throws it at Subaru, who catches it with a slight 'oof', like it's canon instead of a ball.

Kamui walks with Subaru as the older man dribbles and true to his considerate nature, Subaru reduces his own height to accommodate the bouncing ball rather than dribbling it higher.

By the time he reaches the other end of the field, he's just over four feet and Kamui looks suicidal.

Kamui takes it again and starts dribbling it tiredly.

However, against all odds, he's improving and his face begins to brighten and my god, those eyes.

He starts to smile as the ball manages to stay obediently under his controlling hand and almost-

"Watch out!"

Subaru seizes Kamui's arm and wrenches him to the side.

I lean over the edge of the banister as Kamui complains and Subaru kicks something littering the path, out of their way.

Nearly invisible shards of glass from a broken glass bottle of some sort.

Wow, he must've been really watching Kamui if he caught that.

Kamui is fine, but the ball hasn't fared too well from crunching over crumbs of glass.

It survives another turn with Subaru, but when Kamui dribbles again, the thing barely lifts itself off the ground, until the coach gets his eyes off the twenty or so different pairs of students and sees a red-faced Kamui brutally battering a piece of rubber that stubbornly refuses to fly.

"Shirou-kun! What's going on over there?"

"It's deflated!" Kamui yells back. He lets go of the ball and it makes a noise like its farting in agony as the remaining air slowly leaks out of it. Subaru tries to stifle a smile but he fails and Kamui shoots him a mutinous look.

"What did you say?"

"My ball is deflated!" Kamui repeats loudly and unfortunately, in English.

There's deathly silence and then the school group falls over laughing while Kamui looks stricken. The college groups acts like it's too good for perverted high-school jokes.

"Then go and inflate it," the coach orders him and there are two or three people who appear to be in danger of going into cardiac arrest.

Kamui takes the dying basketball and walks out of the field, with what dignity he has left.

I decoded his name once. Kamui. I think it means something about being as powerful and awe striking as God.

My ass hits the ground too.

XXX

The coach explains the rules of the game quickly, pointing out the different lines and setting down the penalty regulations.

No one else sees them, but when Kamui turns to Subaru helplessly, the older man rests his hand on Kamui's arm, drawing a faint smile from the younger boy.

I hit the railing to vent my feelings.

XXX

It's eight minutes into the game.

"Subaru!"

Kamui runs about ten or so steps with the ball blatantly raised high over his head and lugs it at his target. This time, no one from the opposite team bothers to yell 'travel' or block his way anymore.

Instead, they actually make a human corridor and stand well back to let him through.

The coach is hyperventilating outside the field.

Subaru whirls around when Kamui yells for him but he's not prepared for the orange missile headed for his face.

He expertly ducks and the ball neatly flies past his head and straight into the arms of another opponent.

Kamui looks like a kicked puppy.

XXX

Twenty minutes into the game.

There's one of those surges where a whole team has to re-locate and run back to its own part of the field to defend it.

Subaru is at the side and watches them, looking more than a little lost until Kamui runs by, grabs a fistful of his shirt and drags him with him, almost making him stumble.

They both don't enter the actual battle fray, but watch, standing together as the ball is passed from hand to hand, being jerked and tossed unceremoniously. When the ball rolls towards them, Kamui messily kicks it back at his team, trying to be helpful.

All the guys who pay the penalty keep their eyes trained on Kamui rather than the field. It may not be significant, but it reminds me of the way hounds look at a wild chicken that's soon to be dinner.

When I groan, a boy next to me chuckles and I look at him, because he's come out of nowhere. I smile and he nods a hello back at me.

XXX

Twenty-six minutes into the game.

Subaru attempts a lay-up.

It's simple; a quick two-step sequence and then a jump to shoot the ball and gain extra points. The important thing is to not exceed the number of steps or else it becomes a foul.

Subaru is careful. He's been watching and applies what he's seen.

He does it perfectly, his footing flawless and moves gracefully, with the air of a person who is in total control of himself, sure of facing everything ahead.

He just forgets what to do with the basketball in his hands.

When he's back on the ground, he stares at the orange thing, perplexed, as if silently asking it what it's doing with him instead of soaring proudly through the air.

The boy next to me sighs and saves me the trouble of doing it myself.

XXX

Thirty-eight minutes into the game.

Kamui can't shoot.

He's so short that when he turns to look up at the taller players, the sun blinds him. Forget the ring. He sticks to waiting on the fringes and making sure nobody pulls his shorts down.

But then, there's a flurry of movement and somehow, Kamui intercepts a ball that Subaru's thrown at him and miracle of miracles, he doesn't commit a foul within three seconds of getting it.

Subaru runs forward a few feet and holds his arms up for the ball as Kamui is cornered. Kamui jumps high and passes it with all his might, his eyes never leaving Subaru's face and he furiously breaks out of the ring, overtaking Subaru and preparing to take his catch.

He gets it and Subaru laughs slightly as he runs forward to support him again.

They go on like that, ahead of the other players due to speed and something I can't explain, something that's like inborn understanding or telepathy…weaving in and around each other, running a course through the field and blocking out the desperate cries and jeers.

Finally, Kamui gets the ball and he's close enough to the ring to attempt a shot.

He steals a look at Subaru who nods in encouragement, as if he has all the faith in the world in the slight teenager in front of him.

It's good enough.

Kamui hurls himself past the line…leaps into the air…reaches out…and shoots.

It goes in perfectly and Subaru smiles, a dizzying combination of relief, pride and pure affection.

Kamui hugs him and Subaru returns it easily, mindless of the fact that everyone is watching them.

The ominous muteness on the field brings them both back to reality and Kamui glances at his team, doubt and anxiety working across his face as he looks up at Subaru, who also frowns and then turns to the field.

Revelation dawns.

They've scored in their own team's basket.

'Kamui-hugging-Subaru' rapidly changes to 'Subaru-keeping-Kamui-from-getting-murdered-in-bro ad-daylight'. It's the most beautiful piece of living art I will ever see in my life.

The boy next to me looks almost pained as I take him in for the first time.

He's pretty good looking in a rough sort of way, with dark brown shocks of thick hair falling into a face highlighted by molten gold eyes. When I look closer, I see he's about eighteen or nineteen, between school and college and not a boy as I first thought.

"You play basket-ball, don't you?" I observe. He may try to hide it, but he's pretty passionate about the sport and well-built.

He smiles at me.

"How would you know that?" he asks as the field clears and the equipment is collected.

"By those sickened expressions on your face while they were playing. Was that the worst game you've ever seen?"

He smirks.

"It was entertaining," is all he says, "I've played quite a few professional games myself…before."

"Before…what?"

"Before I realized my true calling."

"Which is?"

He smiles and ignores that question so I drop the subject.

"Are you a student here?" I ask him, resting my arms on the banister. He does the same so we're next to each other, feeling the breeze ruffle our hair as the sun warms our faces. It's a beautiful day today.

"No," he replies, "I came to watch a…friend…play."

"Oh, I see. Who was it?'

He points at Kamui's slumped and receding figure and I nod. I briefly consider offering my condolences and then decide to keep my mouth shut.

"And another friend of mine wanted a photo of him."

He points at Subaru and true enough, he pulls out a cell-phone to snap the photo. He tactfully waits till Subaru drops the arm he has around Kamui's shoulders and then hits the right button.

"Let me guess," I sigh, "This friend of yours…is a man, isn't he?"

"A charismatic and sophisticated businessman," the boy says pleasantly, "He's an asset to our society."

He nods once at the photo and then shoves the phone into the pocket of his expensive looking jacket. He pulls a pair of blue-tinted shades onto his face and instantly looks like someone in his twenties.

"Have a nice day," he says but there's something icy about his tone, like he privately knows a joke about how my day will end and before I can sum up a reply to that, he's gone.

There are so many hot guys entering and exiting my life these days that you'd think the world was coming to an end.

XXX

Author's Note:

This is something I wrote far too quickly for its own good, since I realized that most of my fics are dark and angsty things and wanted to give humor a try.

As an ex-member of my old school's dysfunctional basketball team, I've actually done/witnessed each and every one of these misadventures I've described here.

I hope you enjoyed the fic.

Please read and review. I have a few one-shots coming up along with Himitsu and I'm ready to post my next Subaru/Kamui multi-chapter fanfic, titled 'Salvation.'