PoT Fic: "Overheard in the Locker Room" (R) - Kawamura/Fuji, Seigaku Ensemble
Title: "Overheard in the Locker Room" 
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Kawamura/Fuji, Seigaku Ensemble
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,939
Spoilers/Warnings: If you don't have a dirty mind, surprisingly few.
Summary: The Seigaku regulars eavesdrop on some interesting activities in the locker room.
Overheard in the Locker Room
by Kantayra
“Next time,” Momoshiro declared when they reached the locker room, “I’m going to get you back for breaking my serve.”
Echizen walked beside him with his hands buried deep in his pockets, not looking particularly concerned by this challenge. “Whatever.”
Momoshiro glared at him. “What, you don’t think I can do it?”
Echizen just shrugged, although he ducked his head so that the bill of his cap concealed the amused quirk of his lips from Momoshiro’s view.
“Brat,” Momoshiro started to get worked up in his usual jovial way. “When I show you the new move I’ve been-”
The details of exactly how Momoshiro would hypothetically trounce Echizen came to an abrupt halt when the locker room door flew open, and Kikumaru burst forth. Momoshiro tried to let out a startled noise, but Kikumaru clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Shh, shh, shh!” Kikumaru hissed, glancing nervously back into the locker room.
Momoshiro pushed Kikumaru’s hand aside. “What-?”
“Shh!” Kikumaru insisted and waved his hands at Momoshiro to quiet him down. His voice dropped to a whisper. “We can’t let them know we’re listening.” He put a finger to his lips and pantomimed sneaking into the locker room.
Momoshiro was taken aback for one second; in the next, his eyes gleamed with unholy enthusiasm for overhearing whatever juicy gossip Kikumaru was about to expose them to.
“Eh,” Echizen sighed wearily.
Momoshiro grabbed his arm forcefully and dragged him after Kikumaru.
“Can’t you two eavesdrop on your own?” Echizen complained.
“Shh!” Kikumaru and Momoshiro hushed him in unison.
Echizen dug his heels in, but Momoshiro and Kikumaru shoved him along, anyway; there were definite disadvantages to being roughly half the size of most of his teammates.
The locker room appeared to be empty when they entered, and Momoshiro gave Kikumaru a questioning glance. Kikumaru simply beckoned them behind the line of lockers toward the back of the clubhouse. There, they found Inui, who was crouched down next to the closed door of the small storage room, his ear pressed to the wood. Inui turned his head slightly to acknowledge their arrival, but he never removed his ear from the door for even a second.
Kikumaru made some more gestures with his hands that either indicated that Momoshiro and Echizen were supposed to listen in at the door, too, or that Kikumaru was trying to recreate a full three-ring circus using only his fingers. Momoshiro opted for the former and pressed his ear to the door. He dragged Echizen along with him, for good measure. Across from them, Kikumaru listened in next to Inui.
And that’s when they heard it.
“Oh! Oh, yes!” a muffled moan sounded from behind the closed door.
Momoshiro’s eyes widened in surprise. Surely, he wasn’t hearing…?
“Right there! Just like that!” the ecstatic moans continued.
Momoshiro gulped. Echizen’s eyes widened. Kikumaru grinned like he’d just been crowned Gossip King of Seigaku. Inui’s glasses reflected the overhead lights in a way that looked downright demonic.
“A little bit more… Oh, yeah,” the voice behind the door sighed.
It was definitely a masculine voice. In fact, it sounded like…
“Is that good, Fuji?” a second male voice, deeper and huskier, cut in.
“Mmm…” the first voice hummed in agreement.
Momoshiro put a hand to his mouth to cut off the startled exclamation that instinctively came to his lips. He stared at Kikumaru and Inui in stunned disbelief. Kikumaru and Inui graced him with nearly identical wicked smiles in response. It took Momoshiro a few seconds, but slowly a particularly evil smile crossed his face as well. Volumes were spoken between them in that instant, all boiling down to: We now have teasing material for life.
Echizen’s face, which had turned beet red at hearing Fuji’s impassioned moans, turned even redder at the general immaturity of his teammates.
Who? Momoshiro mouthed across the door to Kikumaru.
Kikumaru gave him a frustrated look, like Momoshiro wasn’t using his brain at all.
Inui was taking notes.
Unfortunately, Echizen’s brain couldn’t turn itself off, even when he was doing his damned best to ignore Seigaku’s latest antics. Fuji had left practice about half an hour early after he’d strained something. He’d been helped back to the clubhouse by…
“Mmm, right there, Taka…” Fuji hissed in ecstasy.
Momoshiro choked a little. Inui scribbled furiously. Kikumaru giggled behind his hand. Echizen tried to bleach his brain.
At that moment, voices sounded from outside the clubhouse door. The rest of the regulars, Echizen’s persistent, non-bleached brain supplied, had only been a little ways behind him and Momoshiro.
Kikumaru and Momoshiro, on some kind of synchronized, busybody instinct, dashed after their teammates in unison to run interference. Inui turned his attention from the doorway for half a second to analyze whether the two of them might, against the merciless logic of the universe itself, make a good doubles team, after all.
Echizen took the opportunity to try to run away. Unfortunately, the door was now blocked by Kikumaru, who had all but tackled Oishi from behind, and Momoshiro, who was equally manhandling Kaidoh. Kaidoh was putting up significantly more of a struggle than Oishi was, so Echizen decided to dodge around the Kikumaru/Oishi pair; there was less danger of getting caught in the crossfire.
Kikumaru seemed to have an unnatural number of unusually long and flexible limbs, however, and one of them managed to snag Echizen’s collar just as he’d almost made it out the door to freedom. He pulled a flailing Echizen back along with him, together with Oishi. Echizen wondered if Kikumaru had been an octopus in a past life. A hyperactive, annoying, nosy octopus…
Momoshiro had, meanwhile, somehow managed to shove Kaidoh in the right direction. Kaidoh hissed up at him from where he’d landed with his back against the storage room door. At that moment, however, Kawamura decided to let out a doozy:
“Your ass is so tight, Fuji…”
Any fighting instinct Kaidoh had was instantly dispelled by the blush that started at his bandana and went all the way down his face, to his neck, below his collar, and finally emerged again when even his arms and legs turned bright red. His eyes widened, and his jaw went slack. Kaidoh was paralyzed with embarrassment and down for the count.
“What is-?” Oishi began.
Kikumaru landed on his back, and the two of them ended up with ears pressed to the door in an impromptu piggy-back ride.
Echizen escaped Kikumaru’s clutches only long enough to be recaptured by Momoshiro’s.
“That’s the spot,” Fuji gasped. “Yes, Taka… Just a little bit deeper.”
The sound of a creaking bench could be heard behind the door. Pretty much everyone recalled in that instant that the reason the room was used for storage was that one of the screws in the bench kept coming loose. It was making its presence quite known now, with a rhythmic ‘squeak, squeak, squeak.’
Oishi, belatedly realizing what was going on and that theoretically he was supposed to be in some position of authority, took it upon himself to cover Echizen’s eyes.
“I already can’t see anything,” Echizen complained.
Oishi looked too stunned to get Echizen’s point. The fact that he’d covered Echizen’s eyes instead of his ears, like any sane person would have, had probably been a clue that Oishi wasn’t going to be of any help in his current dazed state.
“Harder!” Fuji demanded.
“This is some kink you’ve got,” Kawamura’s rough voice followed.
“Almost, almost… Yes! That’s it!”
At Fuji’s proclamation, the hard squeaking of the bench came to an abrupt halt. Everyone held their breaths and pressed their ears harder to the door.
“What is going on here?” a very stern, very unamused voice cut in from behind them.
In unison, the six teammates piled up against the door turned and paled at the sight of the perpetually stoic face of their captain.
“T-Tezuka!” Oishi snapped back to some sort of sanity at the sight. Belatedly, he took his hands off Echizen’s eyes and put them over his ears instead.
“It’s too late for that now,” Echizen complained.
Tezuka’s eyes narrowed.
The team gulped.
Then, Tezuka headed purposefully for the storage room door. The Seigaku regulars parted before him faster than the Red Sea. He threw the door open.
Despite the mortal fear of having to run infinity laps, everyone peered into the storage room around Tezuka. There they found Fuji and Kawamura, still damp from their showers, wearing nothing but white towels around their waists. Fuji was lying face down, straddling the squeaky bench. Kawamura sat behind him, between his spread legs, and was just closing the bottle of massage oil.
Before gossip-inclined minds could draw the wrong conclusion, Tezuka calmly asked, “How’s the cramp, Fuji?”
Fuji smiled up at him pleasantly. “Taka finally got the knot out.”
Tezuka grunted. “Next time, be sure to stretch properly before practice.”
“I will,” Fuji promised, sitting up. He stretched his leg and thigh out pointedly, checking the muscles. “The cramp’s gone now.”
Tezuka grunted again and vanished off to wherever Tezuka went off to when he wasn’t making everyone run laps. Most of his teammates had never been very clear on where that was.
Oishi sighed in relief as the embarrassment left his body. He really hadn’t been looking forward to dealing with the repercussions if Fuji and Kawamura had been doing what it sounded like. “All right, everybody.” He clapped his hands. “Show’s over. Let’s hit the showers.”
No one argued with him, although Momoshiro and Kikumaru had particularly long faces that their latest bout of eavesdropping had been for naught. Inui scowled down at his now-useless notes where, once again, he’d failed to acquire accurate data on Fuji.
Echizen’s eyes darted back to where Kawamura was looking at them all, honestly puzzled, and Fuji was still beaming benignly, pretending like nothing unusual had just happened. An inkling of suspicion stirred in the back of Echizen’s mind, but finally - blissfully - his brain managed to shut off, and he gave it no further thought.
“Huh.” Kawamura scratched the back of his neck as he watched them all go. “What do you suppose that was all about?”
“I have no idea,” Fuji lied.
“Tezuka was right, you know,” Kawamura chided lightly. “We can’t have you getting injured right before Regionals.”
Fuji graced him with his most angelic smile. “You always take such good care of me.”
Kawamura blushed and moved to put the rubdown lotion away. However, as he twisted, a flare of pain shot through his thigh, and he winced.
“What’s wrong?” Fuji was instantly at his side, almost dainty-looking hands holding him up. Those hands concealed surprising strength.
“Ah, nothing.” Kawamura tried to shake him off. “I didn’t cool down properly. I think it’s just a spasm in my groin muscle.”
Fuji’s smile brightened, which most everyone knew meant that Fuji had come up with something particularly evil. “Lie down and spread your legs,” he practically purred, guiding Kawamura back down onto the squeaky bench. He flipped open the top of the massage oil. “I’ll take care of all your kinks.”
Kawamura happily lay back and let Fuji have his way.
And that was how, half an hour later, after the first years had finally cleaned up the courts and put the nets away after practice, the rest of the team suffered the exact same trauma when returning to the locker room.
“Oh, baby!” Kawamura cried out in bliss. “Your hands are amazing, Fuji!”
“That’s it, Taka… Tell me just where you like it…”
And Horio’s face turned a very interesting shade of maroon.
Teenage boys being idiots = ♥. As always, feedback is much appreciated.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Kawamura/Fuji, Seigaku Ensemble
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,939
Spoilers/Warnings: If you don't have a dirty mind, surprisingly few.
Summary: The Seigaku regulars eavesdrop on some interesting activities in the locker room.
Overheard in the Locker Room
by Kantayra
“Next time,” Momoshiro declared when they reached the locker room, “I’m going to get you back for breaking my serve.”
Echizen walked beside him with his hands buried deep in his pockets, not looking particularly concerned by this challenge. “Whatever.”
Momoshiro glared at him. “What, you don’t think I can do it?”
Echizen just shrugged, although he ducked his head so that the bill of his cap concealed the amused quirk of his lips from Momoshiro’s view.
“Brat,” Momoshiro started to get worked up in his usual jovial way. “When I show you the new move I’ve been-”
The details of exactly how Momoshiro would hypothetically trounce Echizen came to an abrupt halt when the locker room door flew open, and Kikumaru burst forth. Momoshiro tried to let out a startled noise, but Kikumaru clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Shh, shh, shh!” Kikumaru hissed, glancing nervously back into the locker room.
Momoshiro pushed Kikumaru’s hand aside. “What-?”
“Shh!” Kikumaru insisted and waved his hands at Momoshiro to quiet him down. His voice dropped to a whisper. “We can’t let them know we’re listening.” He put a finger to his lips and pantomimed sneaking into the locker room.
Momoshiro was taken aback for one second; in the next, his eyes gleamed with unholy enthusiasm for overhearing whatever juicy gossip Kikumaru was about to expose them to.
“Eh,” Echizen sighed wearily.
Momoshiro grabbed his arm forcefully and dragged him after Kikumaru.
“Can’t you two eavesdrop on your own?” Echizen complained.
“Shh!” Kikumaru and Momoshiro hushed him in unison.
Echizen dug his heels in, but Momoshiro and Kikumaru shoved him along, anyway; there were definite disadvantages to being roughly half the size of most of his teammates.
The locker room appeared to be empty when they entered, and Momoshiro gave Kikumaru a questioning glance. Kikumaru simply beckoned them behind the line of lockers toward the back of the clubhouse. There, they found Inui, who was crouched down next to the closed door of the small storage room, his ear pressed to the wood. Inui turned his head slightly to acknowledge their arrival, but he never removed his ear from the door for even a second.
Kikumaru made some more gestures with his hands that either indicated that Momoshiro and Echizen were supposed to listen in at the door, too, or that Kikumaru was trying to recreate a full three-ring circus using only his fingers. Momoshiro opted for the former and pressed his ear to the door. He dragged Echizen along with him, for good measure. Across from them, Kikumaru listened in next to Inui.
And that’s when they heard it.
“Oh! Oh, yes!” a muffled moan sounded from behind the closed door.
Momoshiro’s eyes widened in surprise. Surely, he wasn’t hearing…?
“Right there! Just like that!” the ecstatic moans continued.
Momoshiro gulped. Echizen’s eyes widened. Kikumaru grinned like he’d just been crowned Gossip King of Seigaku. Inui’s glasses reflected the overhead lights in a way that looked downright demonic.
“A little bit more… Oh, yeah,” the voice behind the door sighed.
It was definitely a masculine voice. In fact, it sounded like…
“Is that good, Fuji?” a second male voice, deeper and huskier, cut in.
“Mmm…” the first voice hummed in agreement.
Momoshiro put a hand to his mouth to cut off the startled exclamation that instinctively came to his lips. He stared at Kikumaru and Inui in stunned disbelief. Kikumaru and Inui graced him with nearly identical wicked smiles in response. It took Momoshiro a few seconds, but slowly a particularly evil smile crossed his face as well. Volumes were spoken between them in that instant, all boiling down to: We now have teasing material for life.
Echizen’s face, which had turned beet red at hearing Fuji’s impassioned moans, turned even redder at the general immaturity of his teammates.
Who? Momoshiro mouthed across the door to Kikumaru.
Kikumaru gave him a frustrated look, like Momoshiro wasn’t using his brain at all.
Inui was taking notes.
Unfortunately, Echizen’s brain couldn’t turn itself off, even when he was doing his damned best to ignore Seigaku’s latest antics. Fuji had left practice about half an hour early after he’d strained something. He’d been helped back to the clubhouse by…
“Mmm, right there, Taka…” Fuji hissed in ecstasy.
Momoshiro choked a little. Inui scribbled furiously. Kikumaru giggled behind his hand. Echizen tried to bleach his brain.
At that moment, voices sounded from outside the clubhouse door. The rest of the regulars, Echizen’s persistent, non-bleached brain supplied, had only been a little ways behind him and Momoshiro.
Kikumaru and Momoshiro, on some kind of synchronized, busybody instinct, dashed after their teammates in unison to run interference. Inui turned his attention from the doorway for half a second to analyze whether the two of them might, against the merciless logic of the universe itself, make a good doubles team, after all.
Echizen took the opportunity to try to run away. Unfortunately, the door was now blocked by Kikumaru, who had all but tackled Oishi from behind, and Momoshiro, who was equally manhandling Kaidoh. Kaidoh was putting up significantly more of a struggle than Oishi was, so Echizen decided to dodge around the Kikumaru/Oishi pair; there was less danger of getting caught in the crossfire.
Kikumaru seemed to have an unnatural number of unusually long and flexible limbs, however, and one of them managed to snag Echizen’s collar just as he’d almost made it out the door to freedom. He pulled a flailing Echizen back along with him, together with Oishi. Echizen wondered if Kikumaru had been an octopus in a past life. A hyperactive, annoying, nosy octopus…
Momoshiro had, meanwhile, somehow managed to shove Kaidoh in the right direction. Kaidoh hissed up at him from where he’d landed with his back against the storage room door. At that moment, however, Kawamura decided to let out a doozy:
“Your ass is so tight, Fuji…”
Any fighting instinct Kaidoh had was instantly dispelled by the blush that started at his bandana and went all the way down his face, to his neck, below his collar, and finally emerged again when even his arms and legs turned bright red. His eyes widened, and his jaw went slack. Kaidoh was paralyzed with embarrassment and down for the count.
“What is-?” Oishi began.
Kikumaru landed on his back, and the two of them ended up with ears pressed to the door in an impromptu piggy-back ride.
Echizen escaped Kikumaru’s clutches only long enough to be recaptured by Momoshiro’s.
“That’s the spot,” Fuji gasped. “Yes, Taka… Just a little bit deeper.”
The sound of a creaking bench could be heard behind the door. Pretty much everyone recalled in that instant that the reason the room was used for storage was that one of the screws in the bench kept coming loose. It was making its presence quite known now, with a rhythmic ‘squeak, squeak, squeak.’
Oishi, belatedly realizing what was going on and that theoretically he was supposed to be in some position of authority, took it upon himself to cover Echizen’s eyes.
“I already can’t see anything,” Echizen complained.
Oishi looked too stunned to get Echizen’s point. The fact that he’d covered Echizen’s eyes instead of his ears, like any sane person would have, had probably been a clue that Oishi wasn’t going to be of any help in his current dazed state.
“Harder!” Fuji demanded.
“This is some kink you’ve got,” Kawamura’s rough voice followed.
“Almost, almost… Yes! That’s it!”
At Fuji’s proclamation, the hard squeaking of the bench came to an abrupt halt. Everyone held their breaths and pressed their ears harder to the door.
“What is going on here?” a very stern, very unamused voice cut in from behind them.
In unison, the six teammates piled up against the door turned and paled at the sight of the perpetually stoic face of their captain.
“T-Tezuka!” Oishi snapped back to some sort of sanity at the sight. Belatedly, he took his hands off Echizen’s eyes and put them over his ears instead.
“It’s too late for that now,” Echizen complained.
Tezuka’s eyes narrowed.
The team gulped.
Then, Tezuka headed purposefully for the storage room door. The Seigaku regulars parted before him faster than the Red Sea. He threw the door open.
Despite the mortal fear of having to run infinity laps, everyone peered into the storage room around Tezuka. There they found Fuji and Kawamura, still damp from their showers, wearing nothing but white towels around their waists. Fuji was lying face down, straddling the squeaky bench. Kawamura sat behind him, between his spread legs, and was just closing the bottle of massage oil.
Before gossip-inclined minds could draw the wrong conclusion, Tezuka calmly asked, “How’s the cramp, Fuji?”
Fuji smiled up at him pleasantly. “Taka finally got the knot out.”
Tezuka grunted. “Next time, be sure to stretch properly before practice.”
“I will,” Fuji promised, sitting up. He stretched his leg and thigh out pointedly, checking the muscles. “The cramp’s gone now.”
Tezuka grunted again and vanished off to wherever Tezuka went off to when he wasn’t making everyone run laps. Most of his teammates had never been very clear on where that was.
Oishi sighed in relief as the embarrassment left his body. He really hadn’t been looking forward to dealing with the repercussions if Fuji and Kawamura had been doing what it sounded like. “All right, everybody.” He clapped his hands. “Show’s over. Let’s hit the showers.”
No one argued with him, although Momoshiro and Kikumaru had particularly long faces that their latest bout of eavesdropping had been for naught. Inui scowled down at his now-useless notes where, once again, he’d failed to acquire accurate data on Fuji.
Echizen’s eyes darted back to where Kawamura was looking at them all, honestly puzzled, and Fuji was still beaming benignly, pretending like nothing unusual had just happened. An inkling of suspicion stirred in the back of Echizen’s mind, but finally - blissfully - his brain managed to shut off, and he gave it no further thought.
“Huh.” Kawamura scratched the back of his neck as he watched them all go. “What do you suppose that was all about?”
“I have no idea,” Fuji lied.
“Tezuka was right, you know,” Kawamura chided lightly. “We can’t have you getting injured right before Regionals.”
Fuji graced him with his most angelic smile. “You always take such good care of me.”
Kawamura blushed and moved to put the rubdown lotion away. However, as he twisted, a flare of pain shot through his thigh, and he winced.
“What’s wrong?” Fuji was instantly at his side, almost dainty-looking hands holding him up. Those hands concealed surprising strength.
“Ah, nothing.” Kawamura tried to shake him off. “I didn’t cool down properly. I think it’s just a spasm in my groin muscle.”
Fuji’s smile brightened, which most everyone knew meant that Fuji had come up with something particularly evil. “Lie down and spread your legs,” he practically purred, guiding Kawamura back down onto the squeaky bench. He flipped open the top of the massage oil. “I’ll take care of all your kinks.”
Kawamura happily lay back and let Fuji have his way.
And that was how, half an hour later, after the first years had finally cleaned up the courts and put the nets away after practice, the rest of the team suffered the exact same trauma when returning to the locker room.
“Oh, baby!” Kawamura cried out in bliss. “Your hands are amazing, Fuji!”
“That’s it, Taka… Tell me just where you like it…”
And Horio’s face turned a very interesting shade of maroon.
Teenage boys being idiots = ♥. As always, feedback is much appreciated.