Written for trialanderror12 on AO3, for a request from a dialogue prompt list. I'd never read or even considered this pairing before, but . . . I was intrigued, and then when an idea snagged me for the prompt . . . here we are!

Seiji took a sip of his coffee and looked away from his opponent for a moment. He was almost regretting his almost impulsive decision to agree to this game before it had even properly begun. He had agreed, however, and wouldn't back out. However dull the game might turn out to be.

He settled forwards in his seat and placed a stone, eyes flicking from the board - flowing through the opening stages of the game, more gracefully than he'd anticipated - to his opponent. He had agreed to play partly because the way the man had approached him had stroked his ego - Seiji was more than willing to admit to that - and also because he was strikingly pretty.

That didn't mean Seiji would give the game less than his respectful attention; it deserved no less than his best, no matter who he faced. The man smiled at him, and Seiji realised he had utterly missed a name, if it had even been offered.

He looked almost strangely serene . . . save for the flash of something fiery deep in his eyes. Out on the street they had been a shimmery slate grey; now, across the goban in a private alcove at Seiji's favourite café, they seemed brighter and were shaded with violet.

Within a few more moves Seiji's interest was piqued, his focus tightening. Delicate hands placed stones with confidence and at times even ferocity, and Seiji found himself defending aggressively to keep from being choked and cornered. The pretty stranger played with skill, and it seemed, whenever Seiji looked up at him, an easy sort of grace.

Seiji had never seen him before but by the time they reached the middle game he was not only holding his own easily, he didn't even seem ruffled. He was more confident - and more secure in that confidence - than most pros Seiji had faced.

Seiji's eyes narrowed as they fought out one corner, sente trading between them - but the stranger kept it more, even when Seiji won the battle in that corner and shifted his focus to another. The centre was a spiralling, tangled net, difficult to parse, which they repeatedly returned to and worked outwards from, but still it was balanced between black and white rather than going to one side or the other, giving them a solid base from which to battle out their territories.

It was almost not a surprise when Seiji lost - not by a broad margin, but a definite loss. Looking at the intricate game spread out on the board even now he had no idea how he could have avoided it.

He looked up, meeting those intriguing eyes and inclining his head.

"Thank you for the game." the pretty stranger said before Seiji could voice the same.

"Thank you." Seiji returned politely, looking at him with unabashed curiosity. "You aren't a pro." he said after a moment. It mostly wasn't a question - Seiji knew or knew of everyone on the pro circuit. Certainly he would have known of anyone who played this well.

An elegant mouth tipped up in a small smile. "I am not."

Seiji almost asked, but stopped before he spoke.

The stranger lifted his chin a touch, eyes straying to the board, tracing over the patterns of their play. "I am Sai." he said softly.

Seiji's jaw clenched and his gaze sharpened, but then- He paused, looking at the board. And looking at the game - the impressive, beautiful game - he thought of watching Sai play, late nights on his computer, marvelling at the skill shown in Sai's games . . . of the patterns and style that characterised them, and-

"You came back." Seiji said, amazed, staring across the goban.

The pretty man, Sai, smiled slightly, pushing a lock of his long hair back behind his shoulder. "I had not wished to leave in the first place. And I was quite disappointed not to be able to play you properly before." His lashes fluttered as his eyes came up to meet Seiji's again. "Ogata-Judan." he inclined his head slightly, but his gaze remained locked with Seiji's.

He really was amazingly pretty. And he had just slaughtered Seiji on the goban and Seiji found he mostly didn't even care.

Well, he cared; he wanted to grow even stronger himself and flatten Sai in return, but it had been a beautiful game, and Sai was-

"You know," Seiji said, a touch of reckless impulsiveness driving him, rising from his chair and moving around the table; Sai rose as well as he approached, "the game was incredibly beautiful," Sai smiled warmly, looking pleased but not surprised, "but I didn't accept you when you asked to play me because I thought it would be."

Sai frowned, tilting his head and watching Seiji curiously. "Then it was kind of you to play." he said, not quite a question.

Seiji's lips twisted with wry amusement. Not something he was often called, kind. "No, it wasn't." he said with a shake of his head.

"Then. . ." Sai watched him with a tiny, puzzled pout.

"I accepted your request because you are very beautiful." Seiji said, arching a brow. He was surprised when Sai lifted a hand to his delicately-curved mouth and flushed a faint pink. Shy?

Seiji often discomfited people - he found it entertaining - but it had not actually been intentional in this instance, and he was surprised at the severity of the reaction besides. And it couldn't possibly be the first time anyone told this man he was beautiful.

"I. . ." Sai shook his head slightly, looking. . . Seiji frowned uncertainly.

"I know we didn't agree on one beforehand," Seiji said suddenly, changing the topic, "but may I offer you a forfeit?"

Sai blinked, long lashes fluttering. To Seiji's relief, the faintly confused and uneasy look on his face faded. "You need not offer me anything." he said with a sweet smile. "I enjoyed the game greatly. Perhaps," he tilted his head slightly to one side, "another game, at some other time?"

Seiji was a little surprised, but pleased. Particularly as Sai actually looked hopeful, himself. "I would like that." Seiji said honestly, bowing his head in agreement.

Sai touched his arm, light fingertips brushing over his sleeve, and Seiji met Sai's gaze again, curious.

"What," Sai began, cheeks still faintly pink, "would you have asked for as forfeit, had you won?" he asked, gesturing to the board beside them.

Seiji opened his mouth, then paused. Had Sai asked before he knew who the man was, Seiji knew what he might have asked for, but to ask Sai . . . he wasn't sure.

"Nothing?" Sai asked, and Seiji shook his head. "Tell me. Perhaps we will play for it over our next game." he said, almost playful.

Seiji was struck by mischief in return, and before he could think better of it he answered with his first thought. "A kiss?" he suggested.

Sai looked surprised once again, but his eyes flashed as they swept over Seiji from head to foot and back. He didn't react outwardly, although he wondered how foolish he might have been to admit to that first thought. Sai really was a lovely man, and if his request to play had included a forfeit Seiji might have suggested it . . . if he thought his opponent receptive.

Seiji stiffened as Sai stepped closer, raising one hand. Elegant fingers brushed his cheek, firm calluses too smooth to scrape, and a silken caress of lips brushing his own followed, making his breath catch in his throat.

Sai drew back, flushing a little more deeply, then bowed his head and moved away. He paused a few steps away and looked back with a smile. "I truly anticipate our next game, Ogata-Judan." he said, voice soft and intense, and then he left as Seiji absently bowed his head in response.

Their next game. Indeed.

Seiji smiled as he cleared up the goban and the small area they had taken over for their game, then took his leave. He was still in a good mood, the whole encounter fresh in his mind, the next day as he made his way to the Go Institute to watch one of the Shinshodan matches featuring a supposedly very promising new pro.

Seiji had been tapped to play in this year's Shinshodan series himself, but his own match was scheduled for the end of the week. He hoped the boy was an interesting player, though there hadn't been anything truly intriguing in the rumours around the insei since Shindou Hikaru had become a pro.

Climbing out of his car, Seiji met Ashiwara's eyes and arched an eyebrow at the curious look he was getting from his friend. Perhaps because he was obviously in something of a good mood, and with no apparent reason. He shook his head slightly.

Seiji had met the legendary and fascinating Sai. He had quite the story to tell . . . if he so chose.

Sai had actually requested a game with Seiji himself - sought him out for a game, even, it seemed. Sai had bested him, yes, but he had asked to play Seiji again . . . had said he greatly enjoyed the game.

Sai, who was not a pro hiding behind a false name online or some old Go master playing from a forgotten mountain, but instead a beautiful man closer to Seiji's own age - likely even younger.

Sai had kissed him.

Seiji smiled slightly as he passed through the Institute doors. No; no he had no intention of telling the tale of his afternoon, but he could most definitely dwell on it for his own pride and pleasure.

And look forward to his next game with Sai. For more reasons than one.

He licked his lips.

Omake:

Sai let himself into the apartment Hikaru and Akira shared - and currently his home as well, the room that was once ostensibly to have been Akira's now his. Sai suspected from watching the boys that it had not been Akira's room for long before he had moved to join Hikaru.

Akira looked up from the textbook he was studying and greeted Sai with a polite murmur and a nod, which he returned with a smile.

"Sai!" Hikaru greeted cheerfully as he trotted out of the tiny kitchenette. Akira rolled his eyes, though his expression betrayed fondness, and returned his attention to his studies. "Hey! Where've you been?"

Sai smiled at him. "As it happens. . ." He paused, thinking with pleasure of the match he had played - it had been fiercely fought, each evasion and counter showing determination and cleverness.

"Probably at some Go parlour, right?" Hikaru demanded, laughing. "I know you, Sai."

"As it happens," Sai repeated, "I was playing Ogata-Judan."

". . .what?" Hikaru said, eyes wide, and Sai laughed softly.

"The single game we were able to play . . . before was not really fair to him," Sai pointed out with a soft, regretful sigh, "so I sought him out to ask for another."

"You told him who you were?" Hikaru and Akira asked together.

"After we played." Sai said lightly.

"You beat him, right?" Hikaru asked, bouncing a bit on his heels. Sai smiled fondly. Hikaru had matured well, but in some ways he thought the boy he'd met would always show through. "Bet you crushed him!"

"Shindou!" Akira scolded from the couch, shaking his head.

"Yes, I won." Sai answered, clearing his throat to get Hikaru's attention. "I look forward to our next game, however."

"You're going to play again?" Hikaru asked.

"I asked, and he agreed he too would be pleased to play again." Sai said, eyeing Hikaru carefully. He thought of the bold kiss he had given the other man and fought not to blush, ducking his head.

"When are you going to play next?" Hikaru asked, bouncing again.

"I don't know." Sai replied with a shake of his head.

"How are you going to arrange your next game?" Hikaru asked, cocking his head.

"Ah. . ." Sai shook his head again. "I do not know."

"Sai!" Hikaru smacked one hand over his face. "You can't just go around hoping you'll run into people! Not in our world!"

"Ah, Shindou-"

"Right! Touya! Touya can give you his number!" Hikaru cried, looking triumphant.

"Or," Akira said, with a sharp look at Hikaru before his gaze shifted to Sai, "I am certain you could meet him at the Go Institute. Honestly, Shindou, it is not as though it is difficult to find Go pros."

The omake probably truly is something extra here, but Sai pouted for his say as well!