03:

“Oy, Shibuya…you look terrible this morning. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

More like the wrong side of my mind, Yuuri thought as shuffled his feet wearily on the sidewalk. The happy laughter of other students on their way to school had him grimacing in response and for a moment, the world swam before his eyes.

“Shibuya!” Murata cried out in concern as he held out his hands to steady his wobbling friend. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” Yuuri replied with a small smile, thankful for Murata’s support or he was sure he would have fallen to the ground. “I stayed up late studying for the test today so maybe I didn’t sleep well enough last night.”

That would have to be the understatement of the century in Yuuri’s opinion. Not only had he stayed up late to study, he had also fallen asleep at his desk and had ended up having to experience…

(two lovers…bathed in moonlight…together as one…)

... yet another sequence of weird but vivid dreams. Each time, they had featured the older versions of himself and Wolfram and although the dreams weren’t as well-detailed as the first ‘vision’ (he had to call it that because he was sure he hadn’t fallen asleep in the bathtub), it was still clear that those two men were completely head over heels for each other. But unlike the first experience, the dreams never had the two of them speaking or rather if they did, Yuuri couldn’t make out whatever they were saying.

Not that talking is required when you’re too busy…

He flushed darkly and shook his head quickly while hoping that Murata wouldn’t notice how flustered he was beginning to feel. The very idea of two men engaged in such activities was bad enough in itself. It just wasn’t the cool thing to do. It wasn’t as if he disliked guys who were into that kind of thing and he did know two boys in school who were gay but it just wasn’t the scene for him.

Never, he thought fiercely. I’ll never allow myself to do something like that. No matter how pretty the other guy is.

Not even Wolfram? Another part of his mind – the one he had labeled ‘Pervert Yuuri’ – teased.

No, not even him! He argued, unaware of the gamut of expressions that crossed his visage as he continued with his inner battle. Murata was watching all of this with great interest, by the way. Yuuri decided that he ought to find himself a girlfriend first. It was a bit sad that in all his sixteen years, the only girls that had shown any interest were only after him for either help with their schoolwork, to borrow something from him or even worse, his older brother’s girlfriends who considered Yuuri ‘cute’. He wailed inside at his lack of sex appeal, something he had hoped to achieve by this time. But no, the girls in his school did not care for skinny, sports freaks like him.

Aah, but I thought being in the baseball team would make me cool! Look! Even Mizuki’s got a girlfriend and he’s definitely not that cute. Maybe if I cut my hair a little…or maybe let it grow out a bit more that would make me more attractive to the ladies.

“Say, Murata…what would you say if I decided to grow out my hair a little more.” He toyed with the tips of the bangs over his forehead. Unwillingly the image of the older version of himself came to mind and he bit his lower lip in thought. If he grew it out that long…

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Murata replied as he stopped to inspect his friend carefully. “You’d definitely look different but then again, girls seem to like guys with longer hair these days.”

“Oh? Really?” Yuuri’s eyes widened with hope.

“Yeah!” Murata agreed with a firm nod as he pointed towards a group of girls huddled around something. “They’ve been squealing over the guy on the front cover of the magazine and he’s got very long hair.”

Another pretty boy? Yuuri thought with an inward groan as they walked past the group. He managed to steal a quick peek and saw that the model in question had extremely long but light purple-colored hair. Yuuri blinked at the sight unable to believe that anyone could look that beautiful and call himself a man.

Well, what about Wolfram?

“Argh! Not him again!” He really had to stop thinking of that guy!

“Not who again? Did you recognize the guy on the cover?” Murata asked, as they made their way to their lockers to change shoes.

“No…just thinking of something else,” Yuuri mumbled, knowing that he definitely couldn’t talk about that to his friend. He suffered Murata’s thoughtful gaze for a moment before giving an inward sigh of relief as the bespectacled boy shrugged and turned away.

“Oh yes, before I forget!” Murata suddenly cried out as he reached into his bag to bring out the flyer he had meant to give Yuuri earlier. “I saw this in the morning paper.”

“What is it?” Yuuri read the words, his eyes widening in disbelief even though his heart rate was beginning to quicken. Murata noticed the change in attitude and grinned in pleasure.

“Thought you might be interested in giving it a shot.”

“Are you kidding?!” Yuuri all but screamed in delight. “This is my chance to make it to the Minors! There is no way in hell I’m missing this try-out! When is it again…?” He read through. “Next week at the Royal Dome! THE ROYAL DOME!”

Yuuri was sure he had died and gone to heaven. Everyone knew that the Royal Dome was one of the premiere baseball parks in the country and with such a winning team to go with it, the Dome was now considered almost sacred for any true baseball fan. Yuuri had only been there twice. The first time with his father on his eighth birthday just to watch a regular season game and the second time with his older brother, Shouri, who had taken him there about two years ago for a playoff game. Getting tickets to the Royal Dome was not only expensive but incredibly hard to come by. Every game was a sell-out with standing room only spaces available or none at all. In fact, the Royal Dome was any baseball player’s dream home to play in and now that it was under new management – so to speak – things couldn’t possibly get any better.

“I can imagine that many people would show up for this,” Murata was saying, laughing at the drool that seemed to appear from Yuuri’s opened mouth. “So you’ve got to get there early. Of course you know I’m coming with you. Someone’s got to look out for you, Shibuya.”

Yuuri could only nod, not really paying much attention to what his friend was saying for all he could see now were his dreams of finally becoming a professional baseball player coming to fruition.




Wolfram stood rooted on the spot as he eyed the flyer stuck on the locker room wall. He could feel a dull headache coming and he had to bite his lower lip hard from screaming in fury.

How could Gwendal do this?! Letting the try-outs become a public spectacle?! It was going to bring disgrace and chaos to a team considered the best in the country! Things weren’t supposed to happen this way!

“Isn’t this great news, Wolfram?” came the enthusiastic cry from one of his teammates. The boy, who was actually the team’s catcher, slapped a meaty arm around the blond’s shoulder. “Now we can all get a shot at the Minors!”

“Yes, fantastic,” Wolfram replied dryly, while removing the boy’s hand from his shoulder. The boy reeked of stale onions and sweat and his headache was getting worse. If he didn’t get out of this room quickly…

“Hey, what’s up with Mr. Perfect, huh? Angry that we mere mortals get to have a shot at the big time now?”

Wolfram stiffened at the jibe from the dark-haired boy who was sitting on the bench in the middle of the room, surrounded by his group of friends. Wolfram tried to remember what his name was, while ignoring him as best he could.

Ah yes, Kei or something like that. He was considered the best hitter on the team, wasn’t he?

Not that it mattered anymore. It was obvious that Kei was jealous of Wolfram’s arrival and the possible loss of his once esteemed status on the team. It was really a childish attitude to have when one thought about it. Wolfram smirked and continued to change into his baseball jersey. He wouldn’t waste his time dealing with Kei and his issues. He had more pressing matters to deal with, one of which included speaking to Gwendal about his decision to make the try-outs public. Wolfram was also sure that Conrad had known about this and hadn’t said anything to him.

What do they think they’re doing? Ganging up on…huh?

Something wet struck the side of his locker, barely missing his face by a few inches. There was a lot of snickering behind him as he stared blankly at the soaked, dirty and quite smelly sock that had been intended for his head. His features wrinkled in distaste but he was determined not to lose his temper.

“Hey look!” Kei crowed loudly. “Prince Wolfie peed on his sock!”

That had the snickers becoming full blown laughter. Wolfram gave a small smile, eyed the sock again and in a move that was too fast for anyone to see, he flung the offensive item into the smug visage of Kei Kishimoto.

“Uummmfff! What the fuck…argh!” Kei choked and stifled a cry of pain as he was suddenly thrust against a locker so hard that he felt the world swim before his eyes for a moment. He could barely make out the blazing green eyes before him and almost soiled himself in fear for he had never seen anyone look so angry before.

“You don’t want to fuck with me, Sanada,” Wolfram began slowly; his voice much deeper and colder than his teammates had ever heard before. “I’m being extremely patient with you and if you try that one more time, I swear you’ll wish you had transferred to another school.”

He released Kei, watching as the bigger boy slumped to the floor with dispassionate interest. As he turned to make his way out of the room, the rest of his teammates made a pathway for him, everyone silent and in slight awe as they watched him walk out with his head held high.

And if anyone was able to read minds, he or she would have heard the one collective thought from the stunned boys in the room –

Wolfram von Bielefeld was too cool.




Practice went without a hitch and if the coach had noticed that many of his players seemed to stay away from Wolfram or treat him with some kind of renewed respect, he never mentioned it. Even loud-mouth Kei looked like a dog with its tail between his legs. He wasn’t as loud and as obnoxious as he tended to become during team meetings. In fact, Coach Ishida was sure that this was the most well-behaved he had ever seen his team act. He scratched his head in bemusement, while watching yet another dismal display of a bunt by Noda, the first baseman. He sighed and crossed off his name on the notepad in his hands.

“Von Bielefeld!” he bellowed. “You’re up!”

Wolfram, who had been sitting patiently in the dugout, picked up his bat and reached for his helmet. He placed it over his head and fought back a scream as something wet and slimy fell into his hair, down his forehead and ears. He threw off the helmet quickly and reached out to feel the gooey substance.

His jaw worked silently as he heard the undeniable snickers from a few players – not as much as it was in the locker room – but he had no doubt it was Kei’s cronies responsible for stuffing his helmet full of what felt and smelled like weak glue.

“What the hell is that?!” Ishida yelled in irritation as he noticed what had happened. “Who is responsible for it?!”

No one said anything, not that Wolfram was surprised. Ishida didn’t really expect them to confess to such a prank, did he? “Permission to get this cleaned up, sir,” he said quietly.

“Fine, fine…and as for the rest of you, ten laps around the field!”

Wolfram walked away just as he heard the loud groans and curses from his teammates. It was quite a hot afternoon and it would be a good enough punishment for the fools. It served them right for acting like a bunch of children. Goodness, the thought of taking another shower in that public bathroom was appalling but at least he was glad he’d have it all to himself.

He stepped into a stall and turned on the water, hissing a little at the first shock of cold water shooting out of the shower head. Not surprisingly, he found his thoughts drifting towards the events of the past few nights – of his near drowning experience in the bathtub and subsequent dreams afterwards. He trembled as the warm water cascaded his body, his lips moving silently as he closed his eyes and tried to control himself. He placed his hands against the tiles, forcing his sudden shallow breathing to become steady, his heart to stop racing so fast or the growing heat between his legs. But no, whenever he had to take a shower or a bath, the same thing almost always happened to him. It was a prelude to foreplay – a ritual he had found himself going through each time the dreams began.

Shibuya…his name is Shibuya Yuuri…

He groaned, his hands beginning to caress his torso gently, slowly. “Yuuri…” he murmured thickly. The walls of the shower stall slowly seemed to disappear and Wolfram could feel it again, the warm arms of his unseen lover wrapped around his torso and those strong hands joining Wolfram’s to explore his trembling body.

He whimpered and gasped as the talented hands found the hard and swollen piece of flesh between his legs, almost cried out as the hot tongue laved his wet neck, ear and lashes hungrily. Whispered words of desire and need were uttered between them and together they moved as one, their breaths mingling as the heat between them grew to a feverish pitch. Tears of joy slid from his closed lashes as his lover took him – owned him completely. It never got old, this erotic dance between them and each time it happened, it was a new and breathtaking experience – one that he never wished to end.

“Yuuri…Yuuri…!” He cried out in ecstasy, his head thrown back, his lithe body tightening in relief as he exploded with yet another mind-blowing orgasm. His entire being shuddered with the force of it and he slumped weakly into his lover’s arms…or rather against the wet tiles, his breathing harsh and uneven. However, reality came rushing back as his knees gave way and he felt his buttocks hit the wet floor. He blinked in confusion for a moment, wondering if he had fallen asleep (or spaced out as the case may be), only to feel his cheeks darken with humiliation as he stared at the thick white stains on the wall beside him.

Oh God, not again!

He washed them away quickly, refusing to stare below his waist while cursing himself for falling into that trance-like state again.

Oh, please, I hope no one had come in here to hear me, he pleaded inwardly, listening with abated breath for any sign of another student. But thankfully, he was still alone and he let out a whoosh of air in relief. It was rather embarrassing to go through this every time. At this point, he was really beginning to get upset with the two men who kept invading his dreams and thoughts. Their antics were beginning to affect his reality and the very idea of being in the arms of that dark-haired boy (Yuuri) or simply talking to him…

Never going to happen, he thought angrily as he turned off the water with more force than necessary and stepped out of the stall. Shibuya Yuuri can go take a long walk off a short pier for all I care.





He could still hear their laughter – his classmates all having fun at his expense.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep in class but coupled with his fatigue from last night and Mr. Hanada’s boring History lesson, Yuuri had ended up ‘sleeping’ anyway – at least he assumed that was what had happened to him. But apparently, he had begun to mutter someone’s name in his sleep and finally cried out as if he had just pleasured himself!

But it felt too real, didn’t it, Shibuya? The damned ‘Perverted Yuuri’ spoke up again. It felt as if you were in that shower with him, didn’t it? Admit it. You liked it, didn’t you? You liked the way he called out your name, didn’t you?

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” he hissed angrily. “I didn’t like it!”

“Talking to yourself could be the first signs of madness or genius according to the wise ones,” Murata said with amusement in his tone as he looked at his friend’s blushing visage. “What’s the matter with you lately? You’re still not thinking about von Bielefeld again, are you?”

Yuuri felt like he had been sucker-punched. He opened his mouth to deny it, but Murata was already cackling in glee.

“Haha! You should see your face, Shibuya!” he cried out. “You are like an open book, my friend. I can read everything.”

“Shut up,” Yuuri mumbled as he hid his face behind a textbook. It really was embarrassing to think that he had dreamt of Wolfram again and If Murata really knew the sort of things he was experiencing, Yuuri knew he’d never hear the end of it.

“But really, have you thought about what he could be doing with someone like Gwendal von Walde?” Murata asked with a thoughtful frown on his visage.

“What else? You saw how friendly they were,” Yuuri replied, feeling the bitter taste of jealousy on his tongue again. “They’re obviously scouting him for the Royals. I bet that guy he was talking to outside the restaurant was….hey!”

He sat up quickly, eyes widening with dawning comprehension. “That’s who it is!”

“That’s who?” Murata asked in confusion, watching Yuuri begin to dig through his bag quickly.

“Hold on…might not be the same guy but…now that I think of it…ah ha!” He whipped out a small wallet-sized book which he unzipped to reveal several baseball cards all encased within clear plastic for protection. He flipped through them quickly but carefully, his cheeks now flushed with growing excitement. Murata leaned over the table to peer into the book, knowing that touching the ‘sacred’ baseball cards was a big no-no.

“Ichida, Sanders, Ohno,” Yuuri recited as he turned each page. He finally came to a stop, his heart now beating much faster. “It’s him all right!”

“Conrad Weller,” Murata read slowly, as he eyed the picture of the handsome brown-haired man. He was dressed in a Minor League uniform – the Kings – a division AAA team under the management of the Royals. According to the card, his stats were extremely impressive. He had a career .400 BA (batting average), 56 homeruns in one season – a record for minor leaguers, and on base percentage of .425. He had played in the outfield and several times as a short-stop but he would always be known as one of the greatest substitute pitchers in the history of the Minor Leagues. He had pitched ten shut-out innings in his career with all of them being strikeouts. No one could get a hit off the man!

“Wow,” Murata said in awe. “And you’re sure that was the guy with Wolfram?!”

“His hair is much shorter now, but it’s definitely him,” Yuuri said with a firm nod. He caressed the card almost lovingly. “Damn, and to think that he was in the regional game last week and I never got a chance to say hello.”

“Maybe he’ll show up to the try-outs,” Murata said. “You never know. Wait a sec…he doesn’t play anymore, does he?”

“No, he had an arm injury. Car accident. Sad story.”

“Yeah…”

They fell silent, each lost in his thoughts, until Murata spoke again. “And to think Wolfram is on friendly terms with him. You think that maybe Weller’s coaching him?”

The thought had occurred to Yuuri but he didn’t want to believe it. How lucky could one guy be? God, he was really beginning to despise Wolfram with a passion…and it included the dreams the blond induced as well.

“Maybe,” he mumbled non-commitally as he shoved the card case back into his bag. “Come on, let’s go home. I have to start practicing for the try-outs today.”




By Saturday the fifteenth, the entire city was buzzing with the news about the public try-outs. The Royals had never allowed their practices or club activities known to the masses. It was one of the things that made them so revered and respected. However, with the arrival of the new manager/owner, it looked like things were beginning to change at a rapid pace.

The Royal Dome was packed with at least a thousand young men all eager and anxious to begin the brutal test in the hopes of being selected for the one week camp. There were several television crews and of course various scouts, coaches and team managers from all over the country, with intentions of looking out for prospective players for the new season.

Yuuri’s mouth was yet to close since his arrival in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t think he had ever seen anything like this in his life! Murata was busy taking as many pictures as he could, while he went around trying to place some famous faces or ball players, many of whom he had stored in his growing card collection. It went without saying that he was extremely nervous about this. According to the rules, they would only have one shot at displaying their skills before the ‘judges’. One screw-up and Yuuri knew that his dreams could be shattered just like that. He wiped his damp palms against his pants and tried to relax. The key to this was being calm and composed. Getting all worked up over nothing wasn’t going to help. He hadn’t practiced like a man possessed all week for nothing. He was determined to make it and nothing was going to stop him.

“Hey….” Murata began slowly as he made his way towards Yuuri. “Isn’t that von Bielefeld?”

Yuuri felt his heart slam hard within his chest. No! No way! He can’t be here! It’s a look-a-like! It’s got to be!

But as his gaze followed Murata’s pointing finger, Yuuri knew without a doubt that it was indeed Wolfram. There was simply no other person in the world that could stand out in a crowd like that blond snob. Those locks of gold were an obvious beacon and to make matters worse, he was standing beside Conrad Weller – THE Conrad Weller – again, although several television reporters had cornered the former baseball player to ask him questions.

“Oh shit,” Yuuri whispered, feeling his stomach fill with a million fluttering butterflies, as he felt his skin break out in a cold sweat for Wolfram had suddenly turned to look in his direction. And if those widened green eyes were any indication, Yuuri now knew that he too had been noticed.





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