[PoT]- fanfic.
Title: Dignity.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis.
Pairing: Overall? Rikkai/Kirihara. (Jackal/Kirihara, Sanada/Kirihara, Yagani/Kirihara, Niou/Yagyu/Kirihara, Yukimura/Kirihara, Bunta/Kirihara)
Rating/Warning/Word count: Nc-17/ dub-con, sex, oral, orgasm denial cum-swapping, felching, multiple partners/ 2,984
Disclaimer: Please read the warnings. I do not own, nor do I make profit from Prince of Tennis.
Summary: Kirihara loses. Yukimura decides to use Rikkai to discipline him.
Notes: Again, please, please read the warnings. For illbegot's kink meme. Comments and con-crit are appreciated.
Kirihara stood under the shower head, letting the hot water pound at his body. He had officially been named captain, and in a fit of either stupidity- or sheer genius, he hadn’t yet decided, he extended an invitation to Seigaku for a practice match. It had gone well, Kirihara’s line up being successful, each match going to Rikkai. Until he stepped on to the court. Kirihara blamed it on nerves, thinking that the pressure of actually running a team had gotten to him. He had lost. He hadn’t just lost, he had lost gloriously, spectacularly, game after game going to Seigaku’s new captain. Kirihara had barely managed to keep his emotions in check, having the underclassmen clean the courts, and waiting for the rest of the team to leave before entering the club room.
The showers had been turned on full blast, water temperature as hot as Kirihara could take it. His skin was pink, fingers pruny, hair plastered to the back of his neck and forehead. It would have been one thing if he had won, and the rest of the team had lost, but he was the buchou. He had to win. Yukimura-buchou never lost. Well he did to Echizen, but everyone lost to Echizen. Kirihara muttered to himself, reaching out to turn off the spray. If he hurried home, he could half ass his homework and then take to the street courts and play for a few hours before his mom started calling him to come home.
He knotted a towel tightly around his waist, rubbing at his hair with another towel vigorously. Kirihara paused, peering out from under the towel, stomach sinking when he saw just who was sitting on the bench. "Bu-buchou." The towel slipped from his fingertips, letting it fall to the floor. His heartbeat sped up, catching sight of the look on Yukimura’s face.
"Akaya, your loss was unsightly." Sanada, not Yukimura spoke first. Kirihara glanced to his left, where Sanada was leaning against the lockers, arms crossed over his chest.
"You’re the buchou now," Yukimura cut Sanada off with a look, the other boy falling silent, glaring at Kirihara from under his cap. "You, most of all, cannot lose."
Kirihara shifted, swallowing hard, his voice cracking slightly when he did manage to speak. "It was just a practice match." His voice sounded loud to his ears, panicked, words spilling out before they could be stopped. "It doesn’t really count."
"A loss is a loss, Akaya." Yagani voice came from somewhere behind him. "I don’t think you need to be reminded of your promise to Seiichi when you accepted your roll as captain." Kirihara wanted so desperately to turn, to try to reason with Yagani, but he couldn’t look away from Yukimura-buchou.
"Come here, Kirihara-kun." Yukimura’s lips twitched upward, the smile bright and easy, not quite meeting his eyes. Kirihara shuffled forward, body acting on his own. Yukimura pointed to the floor in front of him, Kirihara’s body responding once more, and he knelt at his buchou’s feet. Yukimura rose from the bench, moving behind Kirihara, long fingers twisting in his hair. Kirihara winced a little bit, as the other boy worked through a couple of wet tangles.
Jackal sat on the bench, in front of Kirihara. Yukimura’s fingers continued to smooth through Kirihara’s hair. "You lost. Losing is not tolerated, even if it is just a practice match." The calm gentle touches, were contrasted by Yukimura’s sharp tone, words clipped. "Kirihara-kun, punishment is in order. You know this."
Jackal reached for him, hand cupping Kirihara’s chin.
"Move closer." Yukimura yanked on his hair, Kirihara wincing as he scooted forward, the tiled floor squeaking under his knees. Jackal looked past Kirihara, presumably at Yukimura, sighed and unzipped his pants. Kirihara stared at Jackal’s crotch, watching as his senpai stroked himself. "You know what to do Kirihara." Yukimura’s voice outright dripped with sugary sweetness, his hands knotted in Kirihara’s hair.
Kirihara blinked, glancing up at Jackal, who didn’t look entirely happy to be there either. Another sharp tug, and Kirihara leaned in, mouth closing around the head of Jackal’s cock. It was a little weird, to be doing this with Jackal-senpai. Jackal’s cock was thicker than he was used to, and Kirihara almost felt a little bad about the sloppy, slobbery blow job he was giving. Almost. Kirihara could hear Jackal’s ragged panting, feeling senpai’s thighs tremble under his fingers.
"Relax your throat." Yukimura’s voice purred into Kirihara’s ear, weight pressing against his back. The hand tightened in Kirihara’s hair, forcing his head down faster. Kirihara sputtered, Jackal’s cock being forced down his throat. Yukimura forced Kirihara’s head up and down, fingers tangled in his hair, Kirihara taking Jackal faster.
Kirihara was pulled off of Jackal’s cock with a thick wet sound. He gasped for breath, opening his eyes to look up at Jackal. "Do it." Yukimura’s voice was strained, lower than normal. Jackal smirked, hand tipping Kirihara’s chin up once more. He groaned, sound echoing through the quiet locker room, and came. Kirihara closed his eyes at the last moment, shuddering as the hot, sticky fluid hit his face. He could feel it dripping off of his chin, splattered across his nose and cheeks. Jackal’s nervous laughter bounced around in Kirihara’s head, Yukimura pulling him to his feet.
"Look at me." Yukimura’s hand closed around one of Kirihara’s wrist, turning him around. Kirihara grimaced, feeling Jackal’s come drip from his chin to his chest, sliding down his torso. He met Yukimura’s eyes, managing to not look away. Yukimura smiled again, Kirihara likening the expression to prey being targeted by a predator. Yukimura lead Kirihara to the wall, pulling him flush to his body. Kirihara raised his hand to wipe at his face, Yukimura gripped both of his wrists. "Leave it."
The knot in the towel was loosened, it fell heavily to the ground. Yukimura eased Kirihara’s hands backward, placing them on his back. “Spread your ass.” Yukimura licked along the curve of Kirihara’s neck, teeth pinching as he went. Kirihara paused, Yukimura’s nip shifted, the boy biting at his shoulder, hard enough to make Kirihara cry out in pain. Hands shaking, he did as he was told, spreading himself apart. Yukimura’s soft laugh slid along his skin, thin arms curling around him, fingers drifting down, one fingertip pressing inside. Kirihara jerked against Yukimura as cold, thick liquid slid down the small over his back, Yukimura’s finger pushing it inside of him. “It’s just lube.”
Larger hands skimmed down Kirihara’s back. Warm, and calloused, touch lingering, smoothing along Kirihara’s skin. A dry kiss was pressed to his shoulder blade, Sanada’s middle finger pushing into him the same instant Yukimura’s finger slid free of his body. Kirihara whimpered, pressing tighter to Yukimura.
"Relax, Akaya." Sanada’s voice rumbled in his chest, the vibrations sending shivers down Kirihara’s back. Sanada’s finger thrust in and out, stretching him. Kirihara hissed, feeling the slow burn, and not unpleasant, yet awkwardly weird sensation of being stretched further as Yukimura’s finger pushed into him as well. Sanada’s out, Yukimura’s in, working in tandem. Kirihara sagged against Yukimura, head tipped back, neck exposed, hips rocking against Sanada’s as they toyed with him. He could feel Yukimura’s erection against his hip, Sanada’s cock hard against Kirihara’s ass.
Kirihara couldn’t help but flinch, when he felt Yukimura’s breath on his cheek. Wet heat as Yukimura’s tongue darted out, licking at the come on Kirihara’s face. Another one of Sanada’s fingers pushed into him, Yukimura’s index finger curling slightly inside as Sanada continued to finger Kirihara’s ass. Yukimura hummed quietly, licking the cooling come from Kirihara’s skin, swallowing as he went. His hold on Kirihara tightened, Kirihara groaning as Sanada’s and Yukimura’s fingers left his body. He shook slightly, feeling very exposed, not daring to move his hands from his ass. He felt Sanada sigh, shift behind him.
Sanada’s hands gripped Kirihara’s hips, thrusting into him all at once. Kirihara yelped, hands scrambling at Yukimura, gripping white-knuckled at the boy’s shoulders. "Akaya," Sanada’s voice was oddly gentle but at the same time strained.
"Breathe." Yukimura whispered, tongue dragging over Kirihara’s lower lip. “It’ll feel better that way.”
The grip on Kirihara’s hips tightened, Sanada thrusting into him, slow at first, then faster. Kirihara panted, mouth smearing along Yukimura’s shoulder, numb to everything but the sound of skin slapping against skin. Sanada’s weight slammed against his back, crushing him against Yukimura, who held Kirihara, stroking his hands gently over Kirihara’s body. Kirihara rubbed against Yukimura, grinding his hips against the other boy, desperate for some sort of relief. Sanada continued to fuck him, hips angling upward, hitting the spot that made Kirihara tremble- electric like shocks coursing through his body. Kirihara felt Sanada tense, the boy’s groan ruffling his hair, hands relaxing their grip as he came. Sanada slumped against him, Kirihara vaguely aware of Yukimura leaning close to kiss Sanada over his shoulder.
Kirihara felt Sanada pull out, his knees giving way, Yukimura supported him, delicate hands still petting at his hair. Sweat dripped down Kirihara’s face, his body aching, heart beating frantically against his ribcage. He turned his head, not lifting up off of Yukimura’s shoulder, biting back a quiet moan when he saw the look on his buchou’s face. Sanada gently turned him around, thumb brushing over Kirihara’s cheek.
"Come here." Sanada’s hand closed around Kirihara’s wrist, tugging him away from Yukimura. Kirihara followed on wobbly legs.
"Sanada-fukubuchou." Kirihara’s voice cracked, his mouth dry. If Sanada heard him, he didn’t respond, rather stopped, stepping to the side. Yagani looked first at Sanada, then past them at Yukimura. Kirihara squirmed, the full force of Yagani’s gaze finally landing on him. Sanada let go of Kirihara’s wrist, Kirihara taking the last few shaky steps toward Yagani-senpai.
Yagani’s hands on his skin felt cool, long fingers stroking up Kirihara’s sides, palms smoothing over his chest, Yagani’s fingers pinching at Kirihara’s nipples. "Come closer, Akaya."
Again, Kirihara’s body acted on it’s own, shuffling closer, closing the space between them. He could feel Yagani’s breath on his stomach, the long line of wet left behind as his senpai licked up his torso. Yagani’s hands drifted to Kirihara’s hips, pressing just slightly above the red marks left from Sanada’s hands. Kirihara bit his lip, stifling a quiet groan. Yagani’s mouth on his skin felt kind of good- really kind of good. He lowered his head, feeling the blush burn across his cheeks.
"Straddle his lap." Yukimura said, voice still calm. Kirihara heard Yukimura push off of the lockers, his footsteps approaching them.
Kirihara steadied himself, hand resting on Yagani’s shoulder as he moved onto his lap. Yagani shifted under Kirihara, easing his cock into him as Kirihara settled onto his lap. Kirihara dropped his head, resting it against Yagani’s chest, panting softly. His thighs burned, legs stretched out over Yagani’s. There was pressure, Yukimura’s hands on Kirihara’s shoulders, pushing downward, forcing Kirihara onto Yagani faster. Kirihara cried out then, Yagani-senpai was longer than Sanada-fukubuchou, not as thick, but it still hurt.
Yukimura’s hands moved between them, nimble fingers working something over, around, Kirihara’s cock. It was tight, and it hurt, Kirihara gasping, panting in a mix of pleasure pain as Yagani slowly started to rock his hips up. Kirihara managed to open his eyes just enough to see the silicone ring around his cock. "Punishment." Another flash of pain, Yukimura’s teeth pinching at the shell of Kirihara’s ear.
Yagani’s hands rested on Kirihara’s hips, urging him to roll into the thrusts, riding as Yagani fucked him. Kirihara closed his eyes tight, body on edge, muscles straining, trembling shivers coursing down his spine as Yagani-senpai continued to touch. Yagani kissed him, mouth soft and gentle, tongue coaxing past Kirihara’s lips, one hand sliding into his hair, the other pressing to the small of Kirihara’s back, easing the tension there.
Kirihara mouthed at Yagani’s jaw, body tensing, releasing as his orgasm rolled over him without the release of ejaculating. He cried out, harshly hips rocking harder against Yukimura, moving against the other boy on his own, desperate for relief. He was partially aware of Yagani trying to slow him down, his low voice whispering at Kirihara to stop. Yagani’s body shook under Kirihara, the boy coming further warning. Yagani’s arms tightened around him, Kirihara’s head pressed to his chest, the frantic beating of Yagani’s heart pounding through Kirihara’s head.
"Kirihara-kun." Yukimura spoke, fingertips brushing down Kirihara’s back. There was a pause, two of Yukimura’s fingers pushing into him as Yagani lifted Kirihara off of his cock. "Please get on the bench. Face down." The fingers slid from his body, Kirihara moving just to appease his buchou. The bench was hard, cold against his skin, Kirihara laying face down. Yukimura’s hands were on his thighs, spreading his legs, Kirihara wincing as he felt senpai’s come slide from his ass, down his legs. Yukimura chuckled, one hand bracing between Kirihara’s shoulders, pinning him to the bench, the other urging his hips up, Kirihara’s ass in the air.
Yukimura slid into him with a groan, Kirihara’s eyes closed tightly, feeling how easily his buchou moved inside his body, the sounds coming from his body as Yukimura thrust. In and out, Kirihara’s body rocking with the force of the thrusts, his cheek rubbing against the bench- thinking wildly how glad he was that it was plastic rather than wood. Yukimura’s harsh panting filled the quiet, punctuated only by the wet sounds accompanying each thrust.
"As buchou, you do not lose." Yukimura’s hips were flush against Kirihara’s ass. Long fingers teased down Kirihara’s stomach, touch feather light over his cock. Kirihara jerked, agonizing pain tearing through his body. His cock was so hard it hurt, body responding, muscles trembling, contracting, releasing, the thin band preventing him from getting off completely. "Rikkai will not lose." Yukimura’s thrusts shifted, the hand between his shoulders moving to Kirihara’s hair, tugging sharply, forcing his head from the bench.
"You embarrassed us." Another harsh tug on his hair, Kirihara gritting his teeth. "You embarrassed Rikkai." Yukimura’s continued to touch Kirihara’s cock with his left hand. “You’ve done so well with this, though.” A soft laugh, Yukimura’s thrusts slowing. "Better than others."
Kirihara tensed, Yukimura’s words cutting through the fog of everything around him. Yukimura’s body rested against his back, hips still moving against Kirihara. "That’s right. Whenever someone embarrasses the team, they are punished." Yukimura’s breath slid along Kirihara’s skin, sweat dropping against the back of his neck. His voice was soft, words spoken sweetly, "Each loss that embarrasses the team." A longer pause, Kirihara’s heart pounding in his chest. "Figure it out yet?" Yukimura’s laugh was no more than a breathless sound.
The sound of the slap resonated through the locker room. Bunta’s grunt of pain carrying over to Kirihara. "Of course, some people don’t agree with it." Yukimura’s weight pressed closer, pinning Kirihara to the bench. Kirihara could hear Bunta’s breathing, harsh and uneven. "But we had problems with him when he was in your position." Yukimura’s rhythm became uneven, Kirihara could hear the strain in the boy’s voice as he carried on. Kirihara’s stomach twisted in knots, as he struggled under Yukimura. Another sharp tug, Kirihara closing his eyes tight against the tears threatening to spill over. Yukimura came, Kirihara’s name whispered fondly in the boy’s ear.
Kirihara lay on the bench, wanting so badly to move, crawl his way to the showers and let the water wash over him. A low pained sound came from him when he felt not one, but two sets of hands on him. Gently, he was lifted off the bench. One arm slung over Niou-senpai’s shoulders, the other over Yagyu-senpai’s. Kirihara was half carried, half dragged through the locker room, the dry floor switching to slick wet tile as they entered the showers. Yagyu stood behind Kirihara, cradling the boy to his chest. Kirihara watched warily as Niou sank to his knees in front of them. His hands were gentle, jaw twitching as he worked the ring from around Kirihara’s cock. Kirihara slumped, Yagyu held him tighter, hands petting Kirihara’s chest. He could feel Niou’s breath on over sensitive skin, the flick of his tongue against Kirihara’s cock, made the boy cry out harshly.
Niou looked up, hands petting Kirihara’s thighs as he licked the boy’s cock. Kirihara whimpered, head tipping back, Yagyu trailing light kisses along his neck. "It’s okay." Niou’s mouth closed around Kirihara’s cock, sucking lightly, tongue teasing over the boy’s length. Yagyu’s hands roamed over Kirihara’s body, teasing and drawing small sounds of pleasure from Kirihara. Niou hummed, vibrations coursing through Kirihara’s body, and it wasn’t long before he was coming again. Soft sobs came from Kirihara, body shaking as he came into Niou’s mouth. Niou stood, winked at Yagyu, and kissed him. Kirihara watched eyes half open as the two kissed, their hand sliding over his body. They separated, Niou’s thumb brushing along Yagyu’s lower lip.
Yagyu’s mouth eased slowly over Kirihara’s, kiss slow, and easy, mouth opening as Kirihara responded. Kirihara’s body arched under Yagyu’s touches, groaning into the kiss. He sputtered, as his come slid into his mouth, Yagyu grinning wickedly. Kirihara swallowed compulsively, grimacing at the bitter taste. Yagyu licked the corner of Kirihara’s mouth, hand ruffling his hair. "Get cleaned up, Kirihara-kun."
Kirihara jumped, the showers turning on behind him. He turned to see Bunta, the left side of the boy’s face bright red. Bunta took a couple steps toward him, posture relaxed, hands gently taking Kirihara’s. The water was cool, washing away sweat and other fluids. Kirihara shuddered, trying not to think about it too hard. Bunta’s touch was light, the familiar feeling of the boy’s hands tracing along Kirihara’s body made him relax. Kirihara reached, wrapping his arms around the other boy, surprised that Bunta was dressed- clothing now soaked and clinging to the boy’s frame.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis.
Pairing: Overall? Rikkai/Kirihara. (Jackal/Kirihara, Sanada/Kirihara, Yagani/Kirihara, Niou/Yagyu/Kirihara, Yukimura/Kirihara, Bunta/Kirihara)
Rating/Warning/Word count: Nc-17/ dub-con, sex, oral, orgasm denial cum-swapping, felching, multiple partners/ 2,984
Disclaimer: Please read the warnings. I do not own, nor do I make profit from Prince of Tennis.
Summary: Kirihara loses. Yukimura decides to use Rikkai to discipline him.
Notes: Again, please, please read the warnings. For illbegot's kink meme. Comments and con-crit are appreciated.
Kirihara stood under the shower head, letting the hot water pound at his body. He had officially been named captain, and in a fit of either stupidity- or sheer genius, he hadn’t yet decided, he extended an invitation to Seigaku for a practice match. It had gone well, Kirihara’s line up being successful, each match going to Rikkai. Until he stepped on to the court. Kirihara blamed it on nerves, thinking that the pressure of actually running a team had gotten to him. He had lost. He hadn’t just lost, he had lost gloriously, spectacularly, game after game going to Seigaku’s new captain. Kirihara had barely managed to keep his emotions in check, having the underclassmen clean the courts, and waiting for the rest of the team to leave before entering the club room.
The showers had been turned on full blast, water temperature as hot as Kirihara could take it. His skin was pink, fingers pruny, hair plastered to the back of his neck and forehead. It would have been one thing if he had won, and the rest of the team had lost, but he was the buchou. He had to win. Yukimura-buchou never lost. Well he did to Echizen, but everyone lost to Echizen. Kirihara muttered to himself, reaching out to turn off the spray. If he hurried home, he could half ass his homework and then take to the street courts and play for a few hours before his mom started calling him to come home.
He knotted a towel tightly around his waist, rubbing at his hair with another towel vigorously. Kirihara paused, peering out from under the towel, stomach sinking when he saw just who was sitting on the bench. "Bu-buchou." The towel slipped from his fingertips, letting it fall to the floor. His heartbeat sped up, catching sight of the look on Yukimura’s face.
"Akaya, your loss was unsightly." Sanada, not Yukimura spoke first. Kirihara glanced to his left, where Sanada was leaning against the lockers, arms crossed over his chest.
"You’re the buchou now," Yukimura cut Sanada off with a look, the other boy falling silent, glaring at Kirihara from under his cap. "You, most of all, cannot lose."
Kirihara shifted, swallowing hard, his voice cracking slightly when he did manage to speak. "It was just a practice match." His voice sounded loud to his ears, panicked, words spilling out before they could be stopped. "It doesn’t really count."
"A loss is a loss, Akaya." Yagani voice came from somewhere behind him. "I don’t think you need to be reminded of your promise to Seiichi when you accepted your roll as captain." Kirihara wanted so desperately to turn, to try to reason with Yagani, but he couldn’t look away from Yukimura-buchou.
"Come here, Kirihara-kun." Yukimura’s lips twitched upward, the smile bright and easy, not quite meeting his eyes. Kirihara shuffled forward, body acting on his own. Yukimura pointed to the floor in front of him, Kirihara’s body responding once more, and he knelt at his buchou’s feet. Yukimura rose from the bench, moving behind Kirihara, long fingers twisting in his hair. Kirihara winced a little bit, as the other boy worked through a couple of wet tangles.
Jackal sat on the bench, in front of Kirihara. Yukimura’s fingers continued to smooth through Kirihara’s hair. "You lost. Losing is not tolerated, even if it is just a practice match." The calm gentle touches, were contrasted by Yukimura’s sharp tone, words clipped. "Kirihara-kun, punishment is in order. You know this."
Jackal reached for him, hand cupping Kirihara’s chin.
"Move closer." Yukimura yanked on his hair, Kirihara wincing as he scooted forward, the tiled floor squeaking under his knees. Jackal looked past Kirihara, presumably at Yukimura, sighed and unzipped his pants. Kirihara stared at Jackal’s crotch, watching as his senpai stroked himself. "You know what to do Kirihara." Yukimura’s voice outright dripped with sugary sweetness, his hands knotted in Kirihara’s hair.
Kirihara blinked, glancing up at Jackal, who didn’t look entirely happy to be there either. Another sharp tug, and Kirihara leaned in, mouth closing around the head of Jackal’s cock. It was a little weird, to be doing this with Jackal-senpai. Jackal’s cock was thicker than he was used to, and Kirihara almost felt a little bad about the sloppy, slobbery blow job he was giving. Almost. Kirihara could hear Jackal’s ragged panting, feeling senpai’s thighs tremble under his fingers.
"Relax your throat." Yukimura’s voice purred into Kirihara’s ear, weight pressing against his back. The hand tightened in Kirihara’s hair, forcing his head down faster. Kirihara sputtered, Jackal’s cock being forced down his throat. Yukimura forced Kirihara’s head up and down, fingers tangled in his hair, Kirihara taking Jackal faster.
Kirihara was pulled off of Jackal’s cock with a thick wet sound. He gasped for breath, opening his eyes to look up at Jackal. "Do it." Yukimura’s voice was strained, lower than normal. Jackal smirked, hand tipping Kirihara’s chin up once more. He groaned, sound echoing through the quiet locker room, and came. Kirihara closed his eyes at the last moment, shuddering as the hot, sticky fluid hit his face. He could feel it dripping off of his chin, splattered across his nose and cheeks. Jackal’s nervous laughter bounced around in Kirihara’s head, Yukimura pulling him to his feet.
"Look at me." Yukimura’s hand closed around one of Kirihara’s wrist, turning him around. Kirihara grimaced, feeling Jackal’s come drip from his chin to his chest, sliding down his torso. He met Yukimura’s eyes, managing to not look away. Yukimura smiled again, Kirihara likening the expression to prey being targeted by a predator. Yukimura lead Kirihara to the wall, pulling him flush to his body. Kirihara raised his hand to wipe at his face, Yukimura gripped both of his wrists. "Leave it."
The knot in the towel was loosened, it fell heavily to the ground. Yukimura eased Kirihara’s hands backward, placing them on his back. “Spread your ass.” Yukimura licked along the curve of Kirihara’s neck, teeth pinching as he went. Kirihara paused, Yukimura’s nip shifted, the boy biting at his shoulder, hard enough to make Kirihara cry out in pain. Hands shaking, he did as he was told, spreading himself apart. Yukimura’s soft laugh slid along his skin, thin arms curling around him, fingers drifting down, one fingertip pressing inside. Kirihara jerked against Yukimura as cold, thick liquid slid down the small over his back, Yukimura’s finger pushing it inside of him. “It’s just lube.”
Larger hands skimmed down Kirihara’s back. Warm, and calloused, touch lingering, smoothing along Kirihara’s skin. A dry kiss was pressed to his shoulder blade, Sanada’s middle finger pushing into him the same instant Yukimura’s finger slid free of his body. Kirihara whimpered, pressing tighter to Yukimura.
"Relax, Akaya." Sanada’s voice rumbled in his chest, the vibrations sending shivers down Kirihara’s back. Sanada’s finger thrust in and out, stretching him. Kirihara hissed, feeling the slow burn, and not unpleasant, yet awkwardly weird sensation of being stretched further as Yukimura’s finger pushed into him as well. Sanada’s out, Yukimura’s in, working in tandem. Kirihara sagged against Yukimura, head tipped back, neck exposed, hips rocking against Sanada’s as they toyed with him. He could feel Yukimura’s erection against his hip, Sanada’s cock hard against Kirihara’s ass.
Kirihara couldn’t help but flinch, when he felt Yukimura’s breath on his cheek. Wet heat as Yukimura’s tongue darted out, licking at the come on Kirihara’s face. Another one of Sanada’s fingers pushed into him, Yukimura’s index finger curling slightly inside as Sanada continued to finger Kirihara’s ass. Yukimura hummed quietly, licking the cooling come from Kirihara’s skin, swallowing as he went. His hold on Kirihara tightened, Kirihara groaning as Sanada’s and Yukimura’s fingers left his body. He shook slightly, feeling very exposed, not daring to move his hands from his ass. He felt Sanada sigh, shift behind him.
Sanada’s hands gripped Kirihara’s hips, thrusting into him all at once. Kirihara yelped, hands scrambling at Yukimura, gripping white-knuckled at the boy’s shoulders. "Akaya," Sanada’s voice was oddly gentle but at the same time strained.
"Breathe." Yukimura whispered, tongue dragging over Kirihara’s lower lip. “It’ll feel better that way.”
The grip on Kirihara’s hips tightened, Sanada thrusting into him, slow at first, then faster. Kirihara panted, mouth smearing along Yukimura’s shoulder, numb to everything but the sound of skin slapping against skin. Sanada’s weight slammed against his back, crushing him against Yukimura, who held Kirihara, stroking his hands gently over Kirihara’s body. Kirihara rubbed against Yukimura, grinding his hips against the other boy, desperate for some sort of relief. Sanada continued to fuck him, hips angling upward, hitting the spot that made Kirihara tremble- electric like shocks coursing through his body. Kirihara felt Sanada tense, the boy’s groan ruffling his hair, hands relaxing their grip as he came. Sanada slumped against him, Kirihara vaguely aware of Yukimura leaning close to kiss Sanada over his shoulder.
Kirihara felt Sanada pull out, his knees giving way, Yukimura supported him, delicate hands still petting at his hair. Sweat dripped down Kirihara’s face, his body aching, heart beating frantically against his ribcage. He turned his head, not lifting up off of Yukimura’s shoulder, biting back a quiet moan when he saw the look on his buchou’s face. Sanada gently turned him around, thumb brushing over Kirihara’s cheek.
"Come here." Sanada’s hand closed around Kirihara’s wrist, tugging him away from Yukimura. Kirihara followed on wobbly legs.
"Sanada-fukubuchou." Kirihara’s voice cracked, his mouth dry. If Sanada heard him, he didn’t respond, rather stopped, stepping to the side. Yagani looked first at Sanada, then past them at Yukimura. Kirihara squirmed, the full force of Yagani’s gaze finally landing on him. Sanada let go of Kirihara’s wrist, Kirihara taking the last few shaky steps toward Yagani-senpai.
Yagani’s hands on his skin felt cool, long fingers stroking up Kirihara’s sides, palms smoothing over his chest, Yagani’s fingers pinching at Kirihara’s nipples. "Come closer, Akaya."
Again, Kirihara’s body acted on it’s own, shuffling closer, closing the space between them. He could feel Yagani’s breath on his stomach, the long line of wet left behind as his senpai licked up his torso. Yagani’s hands drifted to Kirihara’s hips, pressing just slightly above the red marks left from Sanada’s hands. Kirihara bit his lip, stifling a quiet groan. Yagani’s mouth on his skin felt kind of good- really kind of good. He lowered his head, feeling the blush burn across his cheeks.
"Straddle his lap." Yukimura said, voice still calm. Kirihara heard Yukimura push off of the lockers, his footsteps approaching them.
Kirihara steadied himself, hand resting on Yagani’s shoulder as he moved onto his lap. Yagani shifted under Kirihara, easing his cock into him as Kirihara settled onto his lap. Kirihara dropped his head, resting it against Yagani’s chest, panting softly. His thighs burned, legs stretched out over Yagani’s. There was pressure, Yukimura’s hands on Kirihara’s shoulders, pushing downward, forcing Kirihara onto Yagani faster. Kirihara cried out then, Yagani-senpai was longer than Sanada-fukubuchou, not as thick, but it still hurt.
Yukimura’s hands moved between them, nimble fingers working something over, around, Kirihara’s cock. It was tight, and it hurt, Kirihara gasping, panting in a mix of pleasure pain as Yagani slowly started to rock his hips up. Kirihara managed to open his eyes just enough to see the silicone ring around his cock. "Punishment." Another flash of pain, Yukimura’s teeth pinching at the shell of Kirihara’s ear.
Yagani’s hands rested on Kirihara’s hips, urging him to roll into the thrusts, riding as Yagani fucked him. Kirihara closed his eyes tight, body on edge, muscles straining, trembling shivers coursing down his spine as Yagani-senpai continued to touch. Yagani kissed him, mouth soft and gentle, tongue coaxing past Kirihara’s lips, one hand sliding into his hair, the other pressing to the small of Kirihara’s back, easing the tension there.
Kirihara mouthed at Yagani’s jaw, body tensing, releasing as his orgasm rolled over him without the release of ejaculating. He cried out, harshly hips rocking harder against Yukimura, moving against the other boy on his own, desperate for relief. He was partially aware of Yagani trying to slow him down, his low voice whispering at Kirihara to stop. Yagani’s body shook under Kirihara, the boy coming further warning. Yagani’s arms tightened around him, Kirihara’s head pressed to his chest, the frantic beating of Yagani’s heart pounding through Kirihara’s head.
"Kirihara-kun." Yukimura spoke, fingertips brushing down Kirihara’s back. There was a pause, two of Yukimura’s fingers pushing into him as Yagani lifted Kirihara off of his cock. "Please get on the bench. Face down." The fingers slid from his body, Kirihara moving just to appease his buchou. The bench was hard, cold against his skin, Kirihara laying face down. Yukimura’s hands were on his thighs, spreading his legs, Kirihara wincing as he felt senpai’s come slide from his ass, down his legs. Yukimura chuckled, one hand bracing between Kirihara’s shoulders, pinning him to the bench, the other urging his hips up, Kirihara’s ass in the air.
Yukimura slid into him with a groan, Kirihara’s eyes closed tightly, feeling how easily his buchou moved inside his body, the sounds coming from his body as Yukimura thrust. In and out, Kirihara’s body rocking with the force of the thrusts, his cheek rubbing against the bench- thinking wildly how glad he was that it was plastic rather than wood. Yukimura’s harsh panting filled the quiet, punctuated only by the wet sounds accompanying each thrust.
"As buchou, you do not lose." Yukimura’s hips were flush against Kirihara’s ass. Long fingers teased down Kirihara’s stomach, touch feather light over his cock. Kirihara jerked, agonizing pain tearing through his body. His cock was so hard it hurt, body responding, muscles trembling, contracting, releasing, the thin band preventing him from getting off completely. "Rikkai will not lose." Yukimura’s thrusts shifted, the hand between his shoulders moving to Kirihara’s hair, tugging sharply, forcing his head from the bench.
"You embarrassed us." Another harsh tug on his hair, Kirihara gritting his teeth. "You embarrassed Rikkai." Yukimura’s continued to touch Kirihara’s cock with his left hand. “You’ve done so well with this, though.” A soft laugh, Yukimura’s thrusts slowing. "Better than others."
Kirihara tensed, Yukimura’s words cutting through the fog of everything around him. Yukimura’s body rested against his back, hips still moving against Kirihara. "That’s right. Whenever someone embarrasses the team, they are punished." Yukimura’s breath slid along Kirihara’s skin, sweat dropping against the back of his neck. His voice was soft, words spoken sweetly, "Each loss that embarrasses the team." A longer pause, Kirihara’s heart pounding in his chest. "Figure it out yet?" Yukimura’s laugh was no more than a breathless sound.
The sound of the slap resonated through the locker room. Bunta’s grunt of pain carrying over to Kirihara. "Of course, some people don’t agree with it." Yukimura’s weight pressed closer, pinning Kirihara to the bench. Kirihara could hear Bunta’s breathing, harsh and uneven. "But we had problems with him when he was in your position." Yukimura’s rhythm became uneven, Kirihara could hear the strain in the boy’s voice as he carried on. Kirihara’s stomach twisted in knots, as he struggled under Yukimura. Another sharp tug, Kirihara closing his eyes tight against the tears threatening to spill over. Yukimura came, Kirihara’s name whispered fondly in the boy’s ear.
Kirihara lay on the bench, wanting so badly to move, crawl his way to the showers and let the water wash over him. A low pained sound came from him when he felt not one, but two sets of hands on him. Gently, he was lifted off the bench. One arm slung over Niou-senpai’s shoulders, the other over Yagyu-senpai’s. Kirihara was half carried, half dragged through the locker room, the dry floor switching to slick wet tile as they entered the showers. Yagyu stood behind Kirihara, cradling the boy to his chest. Kirihara watched warily as Niou sank to his knees in front of them. His hands were gentle, jaw twitching as he worked the ring from around Kirihara’s cock. Kirihara slumped, Yagyu held him tighter, hands petting Kirihara’s chest. He could feel Niou’s breath on over sensitive skin, the flick of his tongue against Kirihara’s cock, made the boy cry out harshly.
Niou looked up, hands petting Kirihara’s thighs as he licked the boy’s cock. Kirihara whimpered, head tipping back, Yagyu trailing light kisses along his neck. "It’s okay." Niou’s mouth closed around Kirihara’s cock, sucking lightly, tongue teasing over the boy’s length. Yagyu’s hands roamed over Kirihara’s body, teasing and drawing small sounds of pleasure from Kirihara. Niou hummed, vibrations coursing through Kirihara’s body, and it wasn’t long before he was coming again. Soft sobs came from Kirihara, body shaking as he came into Niou’s mouth. Niou stood, winked at Yagyu, and kissed him. Kirihara watched eyes half open as the two kissed, their hand sliding over his body. They separated, Niou’s thumb brushing along Yagyu’s lower lip.
Yagyu’s mouth eased slowly over Kirihara’s, kiss slow, and easy, mouth opening as Kirihara responded. Kirihara’s body arched under Yagyu’s touches, groaning into the kiss. He sputtered, as his come slid into his mouth, Yagyu grinning wickedly. Kirihara swallowed compulsively, grimacing at the bitter taste. Yagyu licked the corner of Kirihara’s mouth, hand ruffling his hair. "Get cleaned up, Kirihara-kun."
Kirihara jumped, the showers turning on behind him. He turned to see Bunta, the left side of the boy’s face bright red. Bunta took a couple steps toward him, posture relaxed, hands gently taking Kirihara’s. The water was cool, washing away sweat and other fluids. Kirihara shuddered, trying not to think about it too hard. Bunta’s touch was light, the familiar feeling of the boy’s hands tracing along Kirihara’s body made him relax. Kirihara reached, wrapping his arms around the other boy, surprised that Bunta was dressed- clothing now soaked and clinging to the boy’s frame.