[PoT]- fanfic.
Title: Private Screening
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Sanada Genichirou x Atobe Keigo.
Rating/Warning/Word count: Hard R/ Hand job/ 857
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I make profit from Prince of Tennis
Summary: Sanada and Atobe go to the movies.
Notes: For darkelfgrl comments and con-crit are appreciated.
Sanada stood outside the movie theater, arms crossed over his chest, knowing that if he looked at his watch, only a few minutes had passed. People hurried past, Sanada catching snippets of conversations, letting his mind wander as he people watched. He and Atobe had discussed going to the movies, and somehow he had managed to talk Atobe into going to a public theater for a date. Sanada had let Atobe pick the movie, knowing that a little compromise would go a long way with the other boy.
"Have you been here long?" Atobe was at his side, lips quirked upward in a smirk.
Sanada shook his head, unfolding his arms and pulling a ticket out of his pocket to hand to Atobe. "What? No driver today?"
Atobe’s smirk grew, edges softening into a grin. "Since you insisted on such a common activity I took the train, and walked from the station."
"I don’t know what’s more shocking; the fact that you walked to the theater, or that you took the train without getting lost."
"I am capable of reading a map." Atobe took the offered ticket, fingers brushing over the back of Sanada’s hand. Sanada snorted as they headed into the theater.
Sanada knew better than to comment on, or acknowledge the way Atobe’s hand joined with his, the hesitant way their fingers laced together. Atobe tugged him past the concessions line, leading Sanada to their theater. It was empty, Atobe leading Sanada, still by hand, down the center aisle, to the absolute middle of the theater.
"We should have used my theater." Atobe settled into a seat, raising the arm of the chair that separated their seats. Sanada sat next to him, Atobe’s body a solid line of warmth against his body. "There, we wouldn’t have to worry about someone sitting in front of us."
"Atobe."
"Or have to deal with children screaming for candy, or kicking the back of the chair. The popcorn is fresh too, not stale and coated with imitation butter that’s been sitting in a heated tub for who knows how long." Atobe crossed his legs, scowling when his knee hit the seat in front of him.
"Atobe."
"The chairs at home are soft imported leather. Heated too."
Sanada stood up, started to walk toward the main aisle, when Atobe’s hand closed around his elbow. "Where do you think you’re going?"
"If we leave now we can get the tickets refunded, and go watch movies at your house." Sanada took a few steps backward when Atobe jerked his arm.
Sanada sat back in his seat, sprawling a bit, his knee touching Atobe’s. The lights dimmed, previews flickering on the screen. Slowly, Sanada leaned closer to Atobe, one arm draped over the other boy’s shoulders. "If you just watch the movie, you may accidentally enjoy it." Sanada’s other hand was on his thigh, inching toward Atobe’s leg. By the time the third preview had ended, his hand rested on Atobe’s thigh, his eyes trained toward the screen.
The chair emitted a high pitched whine as Atobe moved, leaning closer, his shoulder touching Sanada’s chest. Atobe’s hips shifted, legs spreading as Sanada’s fingers traced small circles, touches lingering as they moved up the inside of Atobe’s thigh. The opening credits started, Sanada’s hand centimeters away from Atobe’s groin. Atobe shifted again, lips brushing against Sanada’s jaw. Sanada grinned, leaning in for a kiss, licking at Atobe’s lower lip when he pulled away. "Watch the movie, Atobe." Teeth nipped at Atobe’s ear, Sanada’s fingers slowly sliding the zipper of Atobe’s jeans down.
Sanada worked his hand into Atobe’s pants, fingers tracing over the outline of Atobe’s cock, teasing, enjoying the way the Atobe’s hips rocked up, the other boy’s soft moans barely audible over the dialogue of the movie. Sanada paused long enough to unbutton Atobe’s jeans, hand creeping into the other boy’s shorts. He kept the touch light, fingers barely brushing over soft skin, thumb skimming the tip of Atobe’s length. Atobe’s legs fell open, his head tipped back, lips parted as he panted. Sanada smiled again, easing his mouth over Atobe’s in an easy kiss. His tongue pushed past Atobe’s lips, teasing over the other boy’s tongue. Atobe’s hands tangled in Sanada’s hair, Sanada’s fingers closing around Atobe’s erection, stroking.
Atobe broke the kiss, crying out softly, hips moving upward, thrusting into Sanada’s hand. Sanada’s grip tightened, hand speeding up. His eyes were on Atobe, watching as the faint blush on the boy’s cheeks spread to his neck. Atobe turned his head, breaking eye contact, mouthing at Sanada’s shoulder. Sanada nuzzled Atobe’s hair, feeling the other boy tremble as he came, spilling over Sanada’s hand.
They stayed curled around each other for a few minutes, Sanada feeling Atobe’s breathing evening out. The other boy lifted his head, straightening in his seat. Sanada’s hand was wiped off, Atobe stuffing the handkerchief into a cup a couple of seats over. There was a sharp poke to Sanada’s side.
"You better explain this to me when we leave." Atobe’s words were whispered, lips brushing against Sanada’s ear, then mouth, before settling back against him.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Sanada Genichirou x Atobe Keigo.
Rating/Warning/Word count: Hard R/ Hand job/ 857
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I make profit from Prince of Tennis
Summary: Sanada and Atobe go to the movies.
Notes: For darkelfgrl comments and con-crit are appreciated.
Sanada stood outside the movie theater, arms crossed over his chest, knowing that if he looked at his watch, only a few minutes had passed. People hurried past, Sanada catching snippets of conversations, letting his mind wander as he people watched. He and Atobe had discussed going to the movies, and somehow he had managed to talk Atobe into going to a public theater for a date. Sanada had let Atobe pick the movie, knowing that a little compromise would go a long way with the other boy.
"Have you been here long?" Atobe was at his side, lips quirked upward in a smirk.
Sanada shook his head, unfolding his arms and pulling a ticket out of his pocket to hand to Atobe. "What? No driver today?"
Atobe’s smirk grew, edges softening into a grin. "Since you insisted on such a common activity I took the train, and walked from the station."
"I don’t know what’s more shocking; the fact that you walked to the theater, or that you took the train without getting lost."
"I am capable of reading a map." Atobe took the offered ticket, fingers brushing over the back of Sanada’s hand. Sanada snorted as they headed into the theater.
Sanada knew better than to comment on, or acknowledge the way Atobe’s hand joined with his, the hesitant way their fingers laced together. Atobe tugged him past the concessions line, leading Sanada to their theater. It was empty, Atobe leading Sanada, still by hand, down the center aisle, to the absolute middle of the theater.
"We should have used my theater." Atobe settled into a seat, raising the arm of the chair that separated their seats. Sanada sat next to him, Atobe’s body a solid line of warmth against his body. "There, we wouldn’t have to worry about someone sitting in front of us."
"Atobe."
"Or have to deal with children screaming for candy, or kicking the back of the chair. The popcorn is fresh too, not stale and coated with imitation butter that’s been sitting in a heated tub for who knows how long." Atobe crossed his legs, scowling when his knee hit the seat in front of him.
"Atobe."
"The chairs at home are soft imported leather. Heated too."
Sanada stood up, started to walk toward the main aisle, when Atobe’s hand closed around his elbow. "Where do you think you’re going?"
"If we leave now we can get the tickets refunded, and go watch movies at your house." Sanada took a few steps backward when Atobe jerked his arm.
Sanada sat back in his seat, sprawling a bit, his knee touching Atobe’s. The lights dimmed, previews flickering on the screen. Slowly, Sanada leaned closer to Atobe, one arm draped over the other boy’s shoulders. "If you just watch the movie, you may accidentally enjoy it." Sanada’s other hand was on his thigh, inching toward Atobe’s leg. By the time the third preview had ended, his hand rested on Atobe’s thigh, his eyes trained toward the screen.
The chair emitted a high pitched whine as Atobe moved, leaning closer, his shoulder touching Sanada’s chest. Atobe’s hips shifted, legs spreading as Sanada’s fingers traced small circles, touches lingering as they moved up the inside of Atobe’s thigh. The opening credits started, Sanada’s hand centimeters away from Atobe’s groin. Atobe shifted again, lips brushing against Sanada’s jaw. Sanada grinned, leaning in for a kiss, licking at Atobe’s lower lip when he pulled away. "Watch the movie, Atobe." Teeth nipped at Atobe’s ear, Sanada’s fingers slowly sliding the zipper of Atobe’s jeans down.
Sanada worked his hand into Atobe’s pants, fingers tracing over the outline of Atobe’s cock, teasing, enjoying the way the Atobe’s hips rocked up, the other boy’s soft moans barely audible over the dialogue of the movie. Sanada paused long enough to unbutton Atobe’s jeans, hand creeping into the other boy’s shorts. He kept the touch light, fingers barely brushing over soft skin, thumb skimming the tip of Atobe’s length. Atobe’s legs fell open, his head tipped back, lips parted as he panted. Sanada smiled again, easing his mouth over Atobe’s in an easy kiss. His tongue pushed past Atobe’s lips, teasing over the other boy’s tongue. Atobe’s hands tangled in Sanada’s hair, Sanada’s fingers closing around Atobe’s erection, stroking.
Atobe broke the kiss, crying out softly, hips moving upward, thrusting into Sanada’s hand. Sanada’s grip tightened, hand speeding up. His eyes were on Atobe, watching as the faint blush on the boy’s cheeks spread to his neck. Atobe turned his head, breaking eye contact, mouthing at Sanada’s shoulder. Sanada nuzzled Atobe’s hair, feeling the other boy tremble as he came, spilling over Sanada’s hand.
They stayed curled around each other for a few minutes, Sanada feeling Atobe’s breathing evening out. The other boy lifted his head, straightening in his seat. Sanada’s hand was wiped off, Atobe stuffing the handkerchief into a cup a couple of seats over. There was a sharp poke to Sanada’s side.
"You better explain this to me when we leave." Atobe’s words were whispered, lips brushing against Sanada’s ear, then mouth, before settling back against him.