[PoT] :: fanfic.
Title: In the Sand.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Marui Bunta x Kirihara Akaya.
Rating/Warning/Word count: Pg/No warnings/300
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I make profit from Prince of Tennis
Summary: Kirihara considers the future.
Notes: For drabble123 Comments and con-crit are appreciated.
The sun had gone down hours ago, the moon obscured by wispy clouds. The sand was cool, damp, the tide slowly crawling back in, the beach disappearing under each gently rolling wave. Kirihara shivered, watching as a wave washed over the sand, a soft hissing sound as the water retreated, only to be replaced by the crash of another swell of murky water. He stretched out, head pillowed by his arms as he stared up at the sky. A few stars were visible through the clouds and the haze of summer. Time was at a standstill- his senpai had graduated, leaving the team in his hands.
Innumerable possibilities lay in front of him, as well as the responsibility of the team, and Rikkai’s victory in the upcoming season. Kirihara closed his eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of the waves. His phone vibrated in his pocket, he knew it was his mother asking what he was doing out past curfew, and ignored it. For the moment there were things far more important than curfew- things more important than himself.
Kirihara felt the sand give next to him, a heavy sigh to his left as another person sat on the sand next to him. The faint scent of apple, a soft pop as a bubble collapsed. "Your mom’s worried about you." Warmth as Bunta-senpai ruffled his hair, getting more sand into it.
"Did she call you?"
"And Jackal, and Renji and Sanada too."
Kirihara sat up, brushed sand from his hair.
Bunta’s hand covered his, their fingers laced together. Kirihara’s heart skipped a beat, his attention focused on the way Bunta’s skin was so much paler than his own. The soft, dry brush of lips against his cheek, paired with Bunta’s hand squeezing his just slightly- made everything else seem irrelevant.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Marui Bunta x Kirihara Akaya.
Rating/Warning/Word count: Pg/No warnings/300
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I make profit from Prince of Tennis
Summary: Kirihara considers the future.
Notes: For drabble123 Comments and con-crit are appreciated.
The sun had gone down hours ago, the moon obscured by wispy clouds. The sand was cool, damp, the tide slowly crawling back in, the beach disappearing under each gently rolling wave. Kirihara shivered, watching as a wave washed over the sand, a soft hissing sound as the water retreated, only to be replaced by the crash of another swell of murky water. He stretched out, head pillowed by his arms as he stared up at the sky. A few stars were visible through the clouds and the haze of summer. Time was at a standstill- his senpai had graduated, leaving the team in his hands.
Innumerable possibilities lay in front of him, as well as the responsibility of the team, and Rikkai’s victory in the upcoming season. Kirihara closed his eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of the waves. His phone vibrated in his pocket, he knew it was his mother asking what he was doing out past curfew, and ignored it. For the moment there were things far more important than curfew- things more important than himself.
Kirihara felt the sand give next to him, a heavy sigh to his left as another person sat on the sand next to him. The faint scent of apple, a soft pop as a bubble collapsed. "Your mom’s worried about you." Warmth as Bunta-senpai ruffled his hair, getting more sand into it.
"Did she call you?"
"And Jackal, and Renji and Sanada too."
Kirihara sat up, brushed sand from his hair.
Bunta’s hand covered his, their fingers laced together. Kirihara’s heart skipped a beat, his attention focused on the way Bunta’s skin was so much paler than his own. The soft, dry brush of lips against his cheek, paired with Bunta’s hand squeezing his just slightly- made everything else seem irrelevant.