[PoT] Kirihara x Marui Out Loud.
Title: Out Loud.
Pairing: Kirihara Akaya x Marui Bunta.
Rating/Contains/Word count: Nc-17/sex, pwp/623
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I make profit from Prince of Tennis.
Summary: Niou steals Kirihara's towel. Bunta helps him get cleaned up.
Notes: originally for fuefuki_san. Pulling double duty with the citrus_taste Halloween mini challenge. Comments and feedback appreciated.
A/N (2): Amazing art that inspired this ficlet: By fuefuki_san Art is explicit and rated Nc-17 See the art here. Please leave her wonderful comments. She deserves it.
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Kirihara muttered as he tied a knot in the towel around his waist, securing it tightly. Niou-senpai had run off with his other towel, and Kirihara figured it would be safer to walk through the locker room with soaking wet hair, than a bare ass. Sure enough, as soon as Kirihara was out of the showers, there was a sharp sound of damp cloth connecting with his skin. He glared, rubbing the red mark on his side. Niou only pursed his lips, blowing a kiss at him.
"Don't be an ass, senpai." Kirihara sat heavily on the bench in front of the lockers, still glaring.
"Akaya," Yagani-senpai reprimanded him quietly. "You were the one who left it unattended."
Kirihara's vision was obscured by the fluffy yellow towel when Yagani-senpai threw it at him. "Yeah, but senpai, it doesn't mean he can take it whenever he wants." Peering out from under the cloth, Kirihara found that the others had gone.
"You practically dared him to take it." Bunta's voice startled him. He rubbed at Kirihara's hair, "I thought even you would have been able to see that." Bunta smirked at him, tossing the towel into the laundry bin.
"Doesn't mean he had to do it." Kirihara's scowl deepened. He was momentarily distracted from his irritation when he realized Bunta-senpai was standing very close to him. More importantly, Bunta was naked- and wet. He reached out fingertips trailing after a few droplets of water. Kirihara smirked when he felt Bunta's breath hitch.
"Let me use your towel." Bunta tugged at the knot, fumbling as he managed to get it undone.
"Where's yours, senpai?" Kirihara leaned closer, tongue darting out to lick at the water clinging to Bunta's chest. He didn’t quite hear Bunta's response; rather, focusing on the soft sounds that came from the other boy. Kirihara groaned, sound muffled when Bunta's hands slid into his hair. He licked lazily at one of Bunta's nipples, rolling the other between his fingers.
"Niou said something about flying the Rikkai colors on enemy territory. I figured it's best not to ask." Bunta's voice was breathy, hands tightening more in Kirihara's hair. "That- that's not helping me dry off though."
"Do you want me to stop?" Kirihara nipped at Bunta's side, liking the way the other boy squirmed. "We're going to have to take another shower afterward…"
Kirihara trailed off as Bunta's hand moved down his body, fingers teasing over his stomach. He gasped sharply, hips immediately rocking up into the hand stroking him. Kirihara leaned back, shoulders hitting the lockers behind them. He shifted, legs falling open, allowing Bunta to move closer.
"No."
"Bunta-senpai…." Kirihara mouthed at the other boy's collar bone. He trembled, Bunta's fingers pushing into him, stretching him out. Kirihara pressed kisses to Bunta's neck, landing a sloppy kiss on the other boy's mouth. His hands twisted into damp red hair, twirling the short stands around his fingers. Another soft moan was muffled against their kiss, Bunta slowly easing his fingers from Kirihara's body.
"Shh… it's okay." Bunta nipped at Kirihara's lower lip. Kirihara rubbed against the upperclassman, wanting the contact back. "I've got you." Bunta kissed him softly, hands gripping Kirihara's hips. Kirihara cried out, head tipping back, hitting the lockers when Bunta thrust into him. It was hard, and fast, the sounds of skin against skin, and Kirihara's increasingly loud cries filling the locker room. It didn't take long before Bunta came, slumping against Kirihara. Instinctively, he wrapped around the older boy, holding him close as he too, came.
"Bunta?" Kirihara asked, heart beating too fast, pleasure still coursing through him. He was aware of Bunta kissing at his neck- Bunta's hands cushioning his head against the locker. "Isn't that Sanada-fukubuchou's tennis bag?"
Pairing: Kirihara Akaya x Marui Bunta.
Rating/Contains/Word count: Nc-17/sex, pwp/623
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I make profit from Prince of Tennis.
Summary: Niou steals Kirihara's towel. Bunta helps him get cleaned up.
Notes: originally for fuefuki_san. Pulling double duty with the citrus_taste Halloween mini challenge. Comments and feedback appreciated.
A/N (2): Amazing art that inspired this ficlet: By fuefuki_san Art is explicit and rated Nc-17 See the art here. Please leave her wonderful comments. She deserves it.
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Kirihara muttered as he tied a knot in the towel around his waist, securing it tightly. Niou-senpai had run off with his other towel, and Kirihara figured it would be safer to walk through the locker room with soaking wet hair, than a bare ass. Sure enough, as soon as Kirihara was out of the showers, there was a sharp sound of damp cloth connecting with his skin. He glared, rubbing the red mark on his side. Niou only pursed his lips, blowing a kiss at him.
"Don't be an ass, senpai." Kirihara sat heavily on the bench in front of the lockers, still glaring.
"Akaya," Yagani-senpai reprimanded him quietly. "You were the one who left it unattended."
Kirihara's vision was obscured by the fluffy yellow towel when Yagani-senpai threw it at him. "Yeah, but senpai, it doesn't mean he can take it whenever he wants." Peering out from under the cloth, Kirihara found that the others had gone.
"You practically dared him to take it." Bunta's voice startled him. He rubbed at Kirihara's hair, "I thought even you would have been able to see that." Bunta smirked at him, tossing the towel into the laundry bin.
"Doesn't mean he had to do it." Kirihara's scowl deepened. He was momentarily distracted from his irritation when he realized Bunta-senpai was standing very close to him. More importantly, Bunta was naked- and wet. He reached out fingertips trailing after a few droplets of water. Kirihara smirked when he felt Bunta's breath hitch.
"Let me use your towel." Bunta tugged at the knot, fumbling as he managed to get it undone.
"Where's yours, senpai?" Kirihara leaned closer, tongue darting out to lick at the water clinging to Bunta's chest. He didn’t quite hear Bunta's response; rather, focusing on the soft sounds that came from the other boy. Kirihara groaned, sound muffled when Bunta's hands slid into his hair. He licked lazily at one of Bunta's nipples, rolling the other between his fingers.
"Niou said something about flying the Rikkai colors on enemy territory. I figured it's best not to ask." Bunta's voice was breathy, hands tightening more in Kirihara's hair. "That- that's not helping me dry off though."
"Do you want me to stop?" Kirihara nipped at Bunta's side, liking the way the other boy squirmed. "We're going to have to take another shower afterward…"
Kirihara trailed off as Bunta's hand moved down his body, fingers teasing over his stomach. He gasped sharply, hips immediately rocking up into the hand stroking him. Kirihara leaned back, shoulders hitting the lockers behind them. He shifted, legs falling open, allowing Bunta to move closer.
"No."
"Bunta-senpai…." Kirihara mouthed at the other boy's collar bone. He trembled, Bunta's fingers pushing into him, stretching him out. Kirihara pressed kisses to Bunta's neck, landing a sloppy kiss on the other boy's mouth. His hands twisted into damp red hair, twirling the short stands around his fingers. Another soft moan was muffled against their kiss, Bunta slowly easing his fingers from Kirihara's body.
"Shh… it's okay." Bunta nipped at Kirihara's lower lip. Kirihara rubbed against the upperclassman, wanting the contact back. "I've got you." Bunta kissed him softly, hands gripping Kirihara's hips. Kirihara cried out, head tipping back, hitting the lockers when Bunta thrust into him. It was hard, and fast, the sounds of skin against skin, and Kirihara's increasingly loud cries filling the locker room. It didn't take long before Bunta came, slumping against Kirihara. Instinctively, he wrapped around the older boy, holding him close as he too, came.
"Bunta?" Kirihara asked, heart beating too fast, pleasure still coursing through him. He was aware of Bunta kissing at his neck- Bunta's hands cushioning his head against the locker. "Isn't that Sanada-fukubuchou's tennis bag?"