The story had Watanuki going along as the school archery team was going to a three day tournament. Of course he was forced to share a single room with Doumeki. But the big detail i remember is Doumeki's back was deeply bruised because someone's bowstring broke but he still won the tournament.
I don't remember the title or author but i do remember reading it in lj - here or the author's page.
He’d tried to hold time still, hold everything together for a little bit longer, a wish so strong that it leaked from his dreams and altered the fabric of reality, strong enough that players played on his stage aware of their duality, free will driven by someone else, a trapped world where they were happy to stay, knowing that reality would slowly knitting itself back in, unstitching the false truths that they acted out each day.
Doumeki was feeling the pressing weight of the future, he somehow knew the real end, the cracks were showing in his state of mind, he remembers a wedding and daughter and a bed of white feathers, he is troubled by these memories of the future, by what he sees and what he doesn’t see. It makes him greedy for the now.
He watches Watanuki stirring the soup, tied into the long sleeved apron only his slim neck revealed his skin.
"Quit hovering over me," Watanuki says.
Doumeki can sense the frown by the tension across the shoulders, and he draws closer.
He didn’t intend to, but he reaches out, his fingers light against the neck, so slim he could put his whole hand around it.
But the soft touch sets him off, and he wraps his other around Watanuki’s slim waist, and with no effort their bodies are touching.
How little effort it had taken, had it always been so easy.
Watanuki let’s go of the ladle, his hand moves up to cover Doumeki’s hand that caresses his neck.
"What -" he says, and his breath draws sharply in when when he feels Doumeki’s lips against his skin. It sends shivers down his spine.
If Watanuki struggled, it was not because he did not want it, even as he tried to resist, his body succumbed to the enveloping warmth of the body pressed again his back, the hand that was slipping up the layers of clothes to stroked his abdomen. He struggled because it was pulling him to fast away from what reality was meant to be, and a part of him knew that, a part that he was denying consciousness to, nevertheless he understood the terror, the gaping hole that would be left if he moved to quick and too deep into his desires.
He wanted to cry out and say no, but then Doumeki turned him quick and caught his mouth, so their lips pressed, their breath exchanged, and soon their tongues, and there was no denying how hard they were for each other.
What happened next was inevitable, the love making urgent, and Doumeki who’d alway remained so quiet, like his name, found his voice and told Watanuki over and over how much he loved him, desperately in an aching tone, as if this was his only chance. Watanuki feel asleep from exhaustion, feeling tired in the strong arms that hugged him so tightly.
Asleep they still held each other, desire and willpower battling the powers that tried to claw back time from the lovers. And if we don’t talk about the morning, this would be the perfect place for their ending.