PoT Fic: "A Pun Goes Out the Door…and Then Comes Innuendo" (PG-13) - Amane, Bane, All-Cast Ensemble
Title: "A Pun Goes Out the Door…and Then Comes Innuendo" 
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Amane, Kurobane, All-Cast Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,000
Spoilers/Warnings: Crack, horrible puns, Kurobane-on-Amane pun-related violence.
Summary: Amane learns the fine art of innuendo and unleashes it upon the junior high tennis world in the form of bad gay puns. The junior high tennis world is not amused.
Notes: The title of this fic is shamelessly stolen from Groucho Marx' atrocious pun from the 1931 film 'Monkey Business': "Love goes out the door, when money comes innuendo." I figured Davide would approve. :P
A Pun Goes Out the Door…and Then Comes Innuendo
by Kantayra
The day after Amane’s fifteenth birthday, the tennis world trembled in dread.
It started off, innocently enough, with Saeki approaching him at tennis camp as soon as he arrived that morning. “Hey, Davide,” Saeki smiled. “Can I borrow your racket for a minute? I need something longer to try to beat Fuji’s latest counter.” He gestured to his equally smiling practice partner across the net.
Behind Amane, Kurobane’s eyes widened in alarm. “Nooo-!” he started to shout out, running to try to stop Amane in time. He was too late, of course.
“Are you sure you want my extra-long stick to beat Fuji?” Amane retorted and made an obscene spanking gesture, before snorting at his joke.
Saeki blinked in disbelief.
“Knock it off!” Kurobane arrived a second too late and bashed Amane over the head.
Amane, still laughing, ran off.
Saeki still stood there, stunned. Slowly, his cheeks began to flush. “Did he just…?” he began numbly.
“I believe he did,” Fuji agreed, his own eyes cracked open with outward menace at Amane’s retreating form.
***
“Stop messing around and get your footwork right!” Sanada snapped at Kirihara for the fourth time that morning.
Kirihara, unfortunately, was distracted by Sanada’s stentorian command and stumbled over his own feet yet again.
“What did I just say?” Sanada demanded, arms crossed over his chest.
Kirihara gulped.
“What am I missing?” Yukimura chose that moment to sneak up behind Sanada, smiling sweetly.
Sanada started. “Captain, where did you come from?”
Unfortunately, Amane - still on the run from Kurobane - stumbled upon the scene at the same time. “It’s pretty rude of you to ask,” Amane cut in, “but given the way he was snuck up from behind, it’s pretty obvious he came from Uranus!”
Yukimura’s jaw dropped. Sanada stood, stunned. It didn’t look much different from how Sanada usually stood, but everyone could tell he was stunned by the subtle way he didn’t immediately punch Amane in the face.
Kurobane was not so subtle. “You’re not funny!” he screamed, rushing in on the scene and leveling a kick at Amane’s head.
Amane ducked under him and, still chuckling to himself, ran off to the far courts, Kurobane hot on his heels.
“Genichiro?” Yukimura blinked.
“Yes?”
“He is dead,” Yukimura snarled.
“Yes,” Sanada agreed with a very firm nod.
***
“Hurry up with my bag,” Atobe announced, alighting from the limo. “We’re already fashionably late.”
“Yes,” Kabaji agreed obediently, trailing after Atobe and carrying both their tennis bags.
At that moment, there was a rustling in the bushes. Atobe and Kabaji both looked at them suspiciously, and then Amane burst forth.
“Hey, hey!” he ran out and came to a stop in front of Atobe.
Atobe didn’t look impressed.
“Maybe the reason he follows you around all the time,” Amane pointed to Kabaji, “is because he likes to hold your balls!”
“Excuse me?” Atobe screeched at a pitch guaranteed to garner the most attention.
“Will you shut up already?” Kurobane stormed out of the bushes Amane had emerged from and then tackled him into the bushes on the other side of the path.
Atobe was left to throw his dramatic hissy-fit to no one but Kabaji. “It’s absurd,” he insisted, pressing his fingers to his forehead like Amane was the most trying individual he’d ever encountered. For once, Atobe probably wasn’t exaggerating.
Kabaji just blushed.
Atobe’s eyes widened. “You are not serious!”
Kabaji blushed more, coughed, and looked pointedly off to the side.
***
“Here,” Shishido said, coming up to stand directly behind Ohtori, “like this.” He pressed his body along Ohtori’s back and guided his arm through the swing.
Ohtori got the hang of it after a few tries. “It just feels so unnatural, like it won’t go over the net at all.”
“It will,” Shishido assured him, “you just have to get the strength and angle right.” He led Ohtori through the motion one more time. “Like I am. You just…tap.” He breathed against the back of Ohtori’s ear.
“He’s tapping at right,” Amane burst through. “Tapping your ass!”
“Come back here so I can hit you!” Kurobane screamed, running after him.
Shishido and Ohtori froze, Shishido still wrapped around Ohtori’s back. Then, they exchanged a shocked look, and leapt apart.
“I-I… I wasn’t!”
“Of course not!”
“I respect you far, far too much to ever take advantage of you like that, Chotaro!” Shishido insisted fervently.
“Oh, Shishido…” Ohtori sighed dreamily.
***
“Haha!” Momoshiro jeered. “Viper missed an easy backhand!”
“He’s still got lots to work on, eh?” Echizen joined in the teasing. Because the two of them could never learn, they’d volunteered to be doubles partners again for this practice match.
“Shut up, morons,” Kaidoh hissed. “I’ll show you my snake!”
“Oh no…” Kurobane’s eyes widened in horror, and he ran faster in an effort to stop the impending disaster. This one was just too easy.
“Did you hear that?” Amane grinned. “He said he wants to show the two of you his snake!”
Kaidoh blinked at him, puzzled. “I just said that.”
Amane looked equally flummoxed. “You want to show them your snake,” he repeated very slowly.
“Yeah?” Kaidoh glared at him.
Amane scratched his head.
Then Inui leaned over and whispered something in Kaidoh’s ear. Kaidoh’s eyes widened, and his entire face turned red.
“Haha!” Momoshiro taunted him again. “Viper didn’t even get it until now!”
“Why, you!” Kaidoh had been about to lunge for Amane, but Momoshiro’s taunt distracted him, and he went after him instead, letting Amane escape.
“Will you just leave everyone alone for once?” Kurobane shouted after him, chasing Amane onto the next court.
***
“Try to keep up, baldy,” Marui teased, hitting a vicious slice.
Kuwahara dashed to the far side of the court and hit the return easily. “If you weren’t so fat, maybe I would actually have to try,” he retorted good-naturally.
Marui ran as fast as he could to the back corner to catch the volley in time. “Is that the best you can do?” he sneered.
Kuwahara happened to catch the perfect position to hit the living daylights out of the ball. Marui tried to run over in time, but the ball bounced sharply and caught Marui under the chin in response. He fell back onto the court, dazed.
“Marui!” Kuwahara said in alarm, rushing over to check on his teammate. “Are you all right?”
Marui nodded slowly and rubbed his head cautiously.
At that moment, Amane ran through the courts. “Maybe he reason he’s so fat is because you just knocked him up!” he chortled to himself. He ran right on by.
“Davide!” Kurobane screamed as he ran through. He dashed right past Marui and Kuwahara, too.
“Huh?” Kuwahara blinked.
“That was…surreal,” Marui agreed, but he snapped his gum angrily in the direction that Amane had gone.
***
“Here, Eiji,” Oishi pointed to a page in the latest book on doubles he’d checked out from the library. “I think we should try it.”
Eiji frowned at the illustrations of the new formation. “A new doubles position, huh?” he said excitedly.
Amane barged in, leaping right between them. “He wants to try a new doubles position with you, all right!” He snickered. “Doggy-style!”
“Davide!” Kurobane screeched and leapt right between Oishi and Kikumaru as well. “I’m going to kill you!”
Baffled, Oishi and Kikumaru watched the Rokkaku pair chase each other off to the next courts.
“Oi, Oishi?” Kikumaru blinked. “I’ve never heard of doggy-style, but maybe we should try it, huh?”
Oishi’s entire body turned red.
***
“This time,” Tachibana announced, hitting a killer smash, “I will top you.”
Across the court from him, Tezuka’s eyes narrowed. He pulled the next ball from his pocket and, with the sort of precision one would expect from Tezuka, served a perfect ace into the left corner.
Tachibana gaped a bit at the impossibility of hitting that serve.
“No,” Tezuka taunted back, perfectly dryly, “it is I who will top you.” He prepared for his next serve.
He stopped abruptly mid-way through, though, when Amane suddenly came out of nowhere and leapt right over the net. “If it’s causing such a lovers’ quarrel,” Amane snickered, “maybe you should take turns topping!”
Tezuka blinked as Amane scampered back off the court. He was about to serve again when Kurobane suddenly leapt over the net, too.
“Die!” Kurobane screamed at his retreating doubles partner’s back.
Tezuka’s eyes narrowed. Tachibana scowled.
“He really,” Tezuka said very slowly and dangerously, “shouldn’t let his guard down like that…”
***
“It’s just not working today!” Yuta exclaimed in frustration, letting his racket clatter to the ground.
“Hey, don’t get discouraged,” Mizuki came up behind him and slung an arm around Yuta’s shoulders. “We’ll work it out.”
Yuta let out a frustrated huff.
“I’ll work all night with you, if that’s what it takes,” Mizuki promised.
Yuta looked somewhat mollified.
Needless to say, that was when Amane ran by. “He wants to spend the night with you!” he jeered gleefully before high-tailing it out of there.
“Come back here!” Kurobane screamed, waving his racket over in head wildly in a vain attempt to finally smack Amane into submission.
Yuta’s eyes widened in alarm. “Mizuki…” he began nervously. “You didn’t mean it like that, right?”
Mizuki hastily dropped his hand from Yuta’s shoulder. “Of course not,” he lied before growling at Amane’s fleeing form.
***
“Ah, lucky!” Sengoku grinned when his final return landed right on the baseline.
Muromachi slumped. He’d thought he’d been improving lately, but it seemed it wasn’t enough. “I can’t believe you took me in a love game,” he sighed.
“But it’s your serve now!” Sengoku encouraged him.
Before Muromachi could serve, of course, Amane dashed by. “He took you in a love game, yeah!” He rolled his hips in an appropriately obscene way. “Give it to him good now!” And he was off.
“Shut up!” Bane screamed after him.
Sengoku’s face turned even redder than his hair. “I-I didn’t… I mean… I…”
Muromachi scowled down at his racket. He sure as hell couldn’t serve to Sengoku now.
***
“I’m in the rhythm!” Kamio shouted out, crossing the court with lightning speed to hit a brutal backhand.
On the other side of the net, Kawamura yelled, “Bu-u-u-u-urning!” at the top of his lungs and all but threw the ball back at them.
Ibu caught the return, but the force of it sent his racket spiraling out of his hands.
“Aww, yeah, baby!” Kawamura cheered.
“The things they say,” Ibu muttered to himself as he picked up his fallen racket and returned to service position, “they don’t make any sense. Am I the only one who realizes they don’t make sense?”
Fortunately, Amane was there to make sense of them for him: “He’s in the rhythm for you, woo-hoo!” he shouted to Kawamura, before thrusting his hips suggestively. “In, out, in, out!”
Kamio sputtered.
“And don’t you worry,” Amane said to him. “He’s so hot for you, he’s burning, baby!” He half bent over with laughter and ran on by.
“I… Didn’t… Not like that!” Kamio continued to sputter.
In his shock, Kawamura had dropped his racket. “Well, what I really meant was that I was very excited to play,” he mumbled under his breath bashfully, blushing all the while.
“Sadly enough, that crazy man who is about to be murdered by his doubles partner makes more sense than these two usually do,” Ibu continued to mutter to himself as he watched Kurobane race after Amane. “Why do they say these non-sensical things all the time? I just don’t understand…”
***
“Ha!” Mukahi flipped backward and twisted in mid-air. He caught the ball with a neat backhand that resulted in an unreturnable drop shot.
That didn’t stop Nioh from running helplessly after it, of course. He was too late, though.
“40-15,” Oshitari announced, pushing his glasses up to the brim of his nose before he moved to serve again.
“My fault,” Nioh panted, even though that shot had been impossible. Nothing was supposed to be impossible, though, at least not for Rikkaidai.
“That was useful,” Yanagi said, perfectly monotone. “I was able to accurately calculate his speed of rotation through a counterbalanced somersault.”
Oshitari served, and Yanagi sliced it back at him efficiently.
“Good data…”
“Did you hear that?” Amane stormed through the tennis courts just then, with Kurobane merely inches behind him now. He turned abruptly on his heel halfway through the court and ran back in the other direction. Kurobane skidded and lost several seconds before he was on Amane’s tail once more, but this time much further back. “Yanagi likes to watch Mukahi’s counterbalance!” He let out a whoop and dashed on by.
Mukahi blinked. “Huh?”
“Hmm,” Oshitari considered. “I believe the implication is that the gluteus maximus, as the largest of the gluteal muscles, acts as your counterbalance.”
“Huh?” Mukahi blinked again.
Oshitari sighed wearily. “He was checking out your ass,” he clarified.
“Ha!” Nioh called from across the court. “All this time we thought the professor here was so smart, but he’s actually just a perv!”
Yanagi blushed. “It was vital data!” he insisted. “For-”
“Getting your rocks off!” Nioh jeered.
Mukahi sulked and crossed his arms over his chest. “If he really wanted to check out my ass, there’s no substitute for the hand’s on experience.”
“Indeed,” Oshitari’s glasses gleamed.
***
“Smooth or rough?” Atsushi asked, poised to spin his racket.
Ryo considered this for a moment.
It was all the time Amane needed to run through, shout out, “Smooth, then rough, then smooth again, ooh!” and run out again with Kurobane screaming on his heels.
Ryo’s cheeks flushed deep red.
“See?” Atsushi ranted. “This is why I transferred to another school in the first place!”
Ryo turned an evil eye in the direction Amane had gone.
***
“Ah, ah!” Dan flailed under a pile of equipment boxes roughly twice as tall as he was. “Akutsu-senpai, help!”
Just as he was about to topple over, Akutsu - who was definitely not there to play tennis, because tennis was for losers and he’d quit, even though he always hung around tennis courts and teams all the time - reached out with one pinky to stabilize the tower of boxes once more.
“Thank you, Akutsu-senpai!” Dan beamed up at him, like Akutsu was his sun and moon. “You’re so big and strong.”
Akutsu looked away pointedly. He swore that sometimes when Dan said things like that, there was this creepy hunger in his eyes. “Whatever,” he grumbled, trying not to think about it. “It was child’s play.”
That was Amane’s cue to run through. “And Akutsu would know all about child’s play, because he likes to play with children.” He gyrated his hips pointedly and ran on by.
Akutsu gaped.
“Oh, Akutsu-senpai!” Dan’s rosy little cheeks flushed happily. “Is it true?” He fluttered his eyelashes hopefully.
Kurobane rushed by to witness Amane’s most recent damage, and he let out a scream of outrage.
“Gah!” Akutsu screamed in horror, stumbling backwards.
“Maybe,” Dan asked slyly, “after training camp is over, we can go back to my place?”
Akutsu screamed and, because he clearly had to pummel something for making him suffer like this, took off after Amane as well.
He quickly he realized that he was in ample company.
“He’s going to die,” Kaidoh hissed, running at the front of the mob.
Sanada grunted in agreement.
“It’s absolutely absurd,” Atobe insisted behind him in his purple, floral-print Hawaiian shirt. “As if I could be gay!”
Mizuki, who was right behind him in the designer knock-off of the exact same shirt, grunted in agreement.
“He’s gone too far this time,” Tachibana decided.
“I’ll claw his eyes out!” Marui shouted.
Fuji just smiled.
Everyone else from the camp was there, too.
As one, the mob came upon a fallen form. Kurobane, exhausted from chasing Amane around all day, had finally passed out in the middle of the courts.
“Which way did he go?” Akutsu crackled his knuckles.
Kurobane just pointed.
***
By the time Kurobane finally found the energy to move again, the sun was setting. Warily, he made his way over to the gates, where he’d heard shouts of triumph hours earlier. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug at the sight that awaited him there.
Amane stood, stripped completely naked, duct-taped to the flagpole. As Kurobane approached him from behind, he could see that someone had written on Amane’s back in blue permanent marker, “Here’s where you can stick your stupid innuendoes.” There was an arrow pointing straight down at Amane’s ass hole.
Amane mumbled hopefully when he saw Kurobane approaching. He had a bunch of papers shoved in his mouth, and they were acting as a very effective gag. Kurobane winced when he noticed that some particularly malicious individual had put duct tape all over Amane’s crotch, too. He didn’t even want to think about how painful that would be to pull off.
“Mmph-mmm-mmfuu!” Amane mumbled at him.
Kurobane reached him and realized, belatedly, that the papers in Amane’s mouth were pages from the book on innuendoes he’d received from a particularly sadistic uncle for his birthday the day before. It seemed the book and been ripped to shreds, its cover had been trampled upon, and - if Kurobane interpreted the still-burning cinders on the asphalt correctly - the pages not gagging Amane had been burned. Clearly, a ritual murder.
With a sigh, Kurobane removed the remaining pages from Amane’s mouth. “I told you so!” he snapped irritably.
Amane wetted his lips and then croaked out, “Tennis players must be really kinky, because they sure enjoyed giving me my punishment!” He tried to chuckle, but it came out as a wheeze instead.
Kurobane’s eyes widened in disbelief, and he shoved the pages right back in Amane’s mouth. “And they can stay like that until you finally learn your lesson!” he shouted.
Amane’s eyes just gleamed with laughter. Clearly, that day was never going to come.
So, I may just have a weak spot for bad puns. :P As always, feedback is most appreciated.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Amane, Kurobane, All-Cast Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,000
Spoilers/Warnings: Crack, horrible puns, Kurobane-on-Amane pun-related violence.
Summary: Amane learns the fine art of innuendo and unleashes it upon the junior high tennis world in the form of bad gay puns. The junior high tennis world is not amused.
Notes: The title of this fic is shamelessly stolen from Groucho Marx' atrocious pun from the 1931 film 'Monkey Business': "Love goes out the door, when money comes innuendo." I figured Davide would approve. :P
A Pun Goes Out the Door…and Then Comes Innuendo
by Kantayra
The day after Amane’s fifteenth birthday, the tennis world trembled in dread.
It started off, innocently enough, with Saeki approaching him at tennis camp as soon as he arrived that morning. “Hey, Davide,” Saeki smiled. “Can I borrow your racket for a minute? I need something longer to try to beat Fuji’s latest counter.” He gestured to his equally smiling practice partner across the net.
Behind Amane, Kurobane’s eyes widened in alarm. “Nooo-!” he started to shout out, running to try to stop Amane in time. He was too late, of course.
“Are you sure you want my extra-long stick to beat Fuji?” Amane retorted and made an obscene spanking gesture, before snorting at his joke.
Saeki blinked in disbelief.
“Knock it off!” Kurobane arrived a second too late and bashed Amane over the head.
Amane, still laughing, ran off.
Saeki still stood there, stunned. Slowly, his cheeks began to flush. “Did he just…?” he began numbly.
“I believe he did,” Fuji agreed, his own eyes cracked open with outward menace at Amane’s retreating form.
***
“Stop messing around and get your footwork right!” Sanada snapped at Kirihara for the fourth time that morning.
Kirihara, unfortunately, was distracted by Sanada’s stentorian command and stumbled over his own feet yet again.
“What did I just say?” Sanada demanded, arms crossed over his chest.
Kirihara gulped.
“What am I missing?” Yukimura chose that moment to sneak up behind Sanada, smiling sweetly.
Sanada started. “Captain, where did you come from?”
Unfortunately, Amane - still on the run from Kurobane - stumbled upon the scene at the same time. “It’s pretty rude of you to ask,” Amane cut in, “but given the way he was snuck up from behind, it’s pretty obvious he came from Uranus!”
Yukimura’s jaw dropped. Sanada stood, stunned. It didn’t look much different from how Sanada usually stood, but everyone could tell he was stunned by the subtle way he didn’t immediately punch Amane in the face.
Kurobane was not so subtle. “You’re not funny!” he screamed, rushing in on the scene and leveling a kick at Amane’s head.
Amane ducked under him and, still chuckling to himself, ran off to the far courts, Kurobane hot on his heels.
“Genichiro?” Yukimura blinked.
“Yes?”
“He is dead,” Yukimura snarled.
“Yes,” Sanada agreed with a very firm nod.
***
“Hurry up with my bag,” Atobe announced, alighting from the limo. “We’re already fashionably late.”
“Yes,” Kabaji agreed obediently, trailing after Atobe and carrying both their tennis bags.
At that moment, there was a rustling in the bushes. Atobe and Kabaji both looked at them suspiciously, and then Amane burst forth.
“Hey, hey!” he ran out and came to a stop in front of Atobe.
Atobe didn’t look impressed.
“Maybe the reason he follows you around all the time,” Amane pointed to Kabaji, “is because he likes to hold your balls!”
“Excuse me?” Atobe screeched at a pitch guaranteed to garner the most attention.
“Will you shut up already?” Kurobane stormed out of the bushes Amane had emerged from and then tackled him into the bushes on the other side of the path.
Atobe was left to throw his dramatic hissy-fit to no one but Kabaji. “It’s absurd,” he insisted, pressing his fingers to his forehead like Amane was the most trying individual he’d ever encountered. For once, Atobe probably wasn’t exaggerating.
Kabaji just blushed.
Atobe’s eyes widened. “You are not serious!”
Kabaji blushed more, coughed, and looked pointedly off to the side.
***
“Here,” Shishido said, coming up to stand directly behind Ohtori, “like this.” He pressed his body along Ohtori’s back and guided his arm through the swing.
Ohtori got the hang of it after a few tries. “It just feels so unnatural, like it won’t go over the net at all.”
“It will,” Shishido assured him, “you just have to get the strength and angle right.” He led Ohtori through the motion one more time. “Like I am. You just…tap.” He breathed against the back of Ohtori’s ear.
“He’s tapping at right,” Amane burst through. “Tapping your ass!”
“Come back here so I can hit you!” Kurobane screamed, running after him.
Shishido and Ohtori froze, Shishido still wrapped around Ohtori’s back. Then, they exchanged a shocked look, and leapt apart.
“I-I… I wasn’t!”
“Of course not!”
“I respect you far, far too much to ever take advantage of you like that, Chotaro!” Shishido insisted fervently.
“Oh, Shishido…” Ohtori sighed dreamily.
***
“Haha!” Momoshiro jeered. “Viper missed an easy backhand!”
“He’s still got lots to work on, eh?” Echizen joined in the teasing. Because the two of them could never learn, they’d volunteered to be doubles partners again for this practice match.
“Shut up, morons,” Kaidoh hissed. “I’ll show you my snake!”
“Oh no…” Kurobane’s eyes widened in horror, and he ran faster in an effort to stop the impending disaster. This one was just too easy.
“Did you hear that?” Amane grinned. “He said he wants to show the two of you his snake!”
Kaidoh blinked at him, puzzled. “I just said that.”
Amane looked equally flummoxed. “You want to show them your snake,” he repeated very slowly.
“Yeah?” Kaidoh glared at him.
Amane scratched his head.
Then Inui leaned over and whispered something in Kaidoh’s ear. Kaidoh’s eyes widened, and his entire face turned red.
“Haha!” Momoshiro taunted him again. “Viper didn’t even get it until now!”
“Why, you!” Kaidoh had been about to lunge for Amane, but Momoshiro’s taunt distracted him, and he went after him instead, letting Amane escape.
“Will you just leave everyone alone for once?” Kurobane shouted after him, chasing Amane onto the next court.
***
“Try to keep up, baldy,” Marui teased, hitting a vicious slice.
Kuwahara dashed to the far side of the court and hit the return easily. “If you weren’t so fat, maybe I would actually have to try,” he retorted good-naturally.
Marui ran as fast as he could to the back corner to catch the volley in time. “Is that the best you can do?” he sneered.
Kuwahara happened to catch the perfect position to hit the living daylights out of the ball. Marui tried to run over in time, but the ball bounced sharply and caught Marui under the chin in response. He fell back onto the court, dazed.
“Marui!” Kuwahara said in alarm, rushing over to check on his teammate. “Are you all right?”
Marui nodded slowly and rubbed his head cautiously.
At that moment, Amane ran through the courts. “Maybe he reason he’s so fat is because you just knocked him up!” he chortled to himself. He ran right on by.
“Davide!” Kurobane screamed as he ran through. He dashed right past Marui and Kuwahara, too.
“Huh?” Kuwahara blinked.
“That was…surreal,” Marui agreed, but he snapped his gum angrily in the direction that Amane had gone.
***
“Here, Eiji,” Oishi pointed to a page in the latest book on doubles he’d checked out from the library. “I think we should try it.”
Eiji frowned at the illustrations of the new formation. “A new doubles position, huh?” he said excitedly.
Amane barged in, leaping right between them. “He wants to try a new doubles position with you, all right!” He snickered. “Doggy-style!”
“Davide!” Kurobane screeched and leapt right between Oishi and Kikumaru as well. “I’m going to kill you!”
Baffled, Oishi and Kikumaru watched the Rokkaku pair chase each other off to the next courts.
“Oi, Oishi?” Kikumaru blinked. “I’ve never heard of doggy-style, but maybe we should try it, huh?”
Oishi’s entire body turned red.
***
“This time,” Tachibana announced, hitting a killer smash, “I will top you.”
Across the court from him, Tezuka’s eyes narrowed. He pulled the next ball from his pocket and, with the sort of precision one would expect from Tezuka, served a perfect ace into the left corner.
Tachibana gaped a bit at the impossibility of hitting that serve.
“No,” Tezuka taunted back, perfectly dryly, “it is I who will top you.” He prepared for his next serve.
He stopped abruptly mid-way through, though, when Amane suddenly came out of nowhere and leapt right over the net. “If it’s causing such a lovers’ quarrel,” Amane snickered, “maybe you should take turns topping!”
Tezuka blinked as Amane scampered back off the court. He was about to serve again when Kurobane suddenly leapt over the net, too.
“Die!” Kurobane screamed at his retreating doubles partner’s back.
Tezuka’s eyes narrowed. Tachibana scowled.
“He really,” Tezuka said very slowly and dangerously, “shouldn’t let his guard down like that…”
***
“It’s just not working today!” Yuta exclaimed in frustration, letting his racket clatter to the ground.
“Hey, don’t get discouraged,” Mizuki came up behind him and slung an arm around Yuta’s shoulders. “We’ll work it out.”
Yuta let out a frustrated huff.
“I’ll work all night with you, if that’s what it takes,” Mizuki promised.
Yuta looked somewhat mollified.
Needless to say, that was when Amane ran by. “He wants to spend the night with you!” he jeered gleefully before high-tailing it out of there.
“Come back here!” Kurobane screamed, waving his racket over in head wildly in a vain attempt to finally smack Amane into submission.
Yuta’s eyes widened in alarm. “Mizuki…” he began nervously. “You didn’t mean it like that, right?”
Mizuki hastily dropped his hand from Yuta’s shoulder. “Of course not,” he lied before growling at Amane’s fleeing form.
***
“Ah, lucky!” Sengoku grinned when his final return landed right on the baseline.
Muromachi slumped. He’d thought he’d been improving lately, but it seemed it wasn’t enough. “I can’t believe you took me in a love game,” he sighed.
“But it’s your serve now!” Sengoku encouraged him.
Before Muromachi could serve, of course, Amane dashed by. “He took you in a love game, yeah!” He rolled his hips in an appropriately obscene way. “Give it to him good now!” And he was off.
“Shut up!” Bane screamed after him.
Sengoku’s face turned even redder than his hair. “I-I didn’t… I mean… I…”
Muromachi scowled down at his racket. He sure as hell couldn’t serve to Sengoku now.
***
“I’m in the rhythm!” Kamio shouted out, crossing the court with lightning speed to hit a brutal backhand.
On the other side of the net, Kawamura yelled, “Bu-u-u-u-urning!” at the top of his lungs and all but threw the ball back at them.
Ibu caught the return, but the force of it sent his racket spiraling out of his hands.
“Aww, yeah, baby!” Kawamura cheered.
“The things they say,” Ibu muttered to himself as he picked up his fallen racket and returned to service position, “they don’t make any sense. Am I the only one who realizes they don’t make sense?”
Fortunately, Amane was there to make sense of them for him: “He’s in the rhythm for you, woo-hoo!” he shouted to Kawamura, before thrusting his hips suggestively. “In, out, in, out!”
Kamio sputtered.
“And don’t you worry,” Amane said to him. “He’s so hot for you, he’s burning, baby!” He half bent over with laughter and ran on by.
“I… Didn’t… Not like that!” Kamio continued to sputter.
In his shock, Kawamura had dropped his racket. “Well, what I really meant was that I was very excited to play,” he mumbled under his breath bashfully, blushing all the while.
“Sadly enough, that crazy man who is about to be murdered by his doubles partner makes more sense than these two usually do,” Ibu continued to mutter to himself as he watched Kurobane race after Amane. “Why do they say these non-sensical things all the time? I just don’t understand…”
***
“Ha!” Mukahi flipped backward and twisted in mid-air. He caught the ball with a neat backhand that resulted in an unreturnable drop shot.
That didn’t stop Nioh from running helplessly after it, of course. He was too late, though.
“40-15,” Oshitari announced, pushing his glasses up to the brim of his nose before he moved to serve again.
“My fault,” Nioh panted, even though that shot had been impossible. Nothing was supposed to be impossible, though, at least not for Rikkaidai.
“That was useful,” Yanagi said, perfectly monotone. “I was able to accurately calculate his speed of rotation through a counterbalanced somersault.”
Oshitari served, and Yanagi sliced it back at him efficiently.
“Good data…”
“Did you hear that?” Amane stormed through the tennis courts just then, with Kurobane merely inches behind him now. He turned abruptly on his heel halfway through the court and ran back in the other direction. Kurobane skidded and lost several seconds before he was on Amane’s tail once more, but this time much further back. “Yanagi likes to watch Mukahi’s counterbalance!” He let out a whoop and dashed on by.
Mukahi blinked. “Huh?”
“Hmm,” Oshitari considered. “I believe the implication is that the gluteus maximus, as the largest of the gluteal muscles, acts as your counterbalance.”
“Huh?” Mukahi blinked again.
Oshitari sighed wearily. “He was checking out your ass,” he clarified.
“Ha!” Nioh called from across the court. “All this time we thought the professor here was so smart, but he’s actually just a perv!”
Yanagi blushed. “It was vital data!” he insisted. “For-”
“Getting your rocks off!” Nioh jeered.
Mukahi sulked and crossed his arms over his chest. “If he really wanted to check out my ass, there’s no substitute for the hand’s on experience.”
“Indeed,” Oshitari’s glasses gleamed.
***
“Smooth or rough?” Atsushi asked, poised to spin his racket.
Ryo considered this for a moment.
It was all the time Amane needed to run through, shout out, “Smooth, then rough, then smooth again, ooh!” and run out again with Kurobane screaming on his heels.
Ryo’s cheeks flushed deep red.
“See?” Atsushi ranted. “This is why I transferred to another school in the first place!”
Ryo turned an evil eye in the direction Amane had gone.
***
“Ah, ah!” Dan flailed under a pile of equipment boxes roughly twice as tall as he was. “Akutsu-senpai, help!”
Just as he was about to topple over, Akutsu - who was definitely not there to play tennis, because tennis was for losers and he’d quit, even though he always hung around tennis courts and teams all the time - reached out with one pinky to stabilize the tower of boxes once more.
“Thank you, Akutsu-senpai!” Dan beamed up at him, like Akutsu was his sun and moon. “You’re so big and strong.”
Akutsu looked away pointedly. He swore that sometimes when Dan said things like that, there was this creepy hunger in his eyes. “Whatever,” he grumbled, trying not to think about it. “It was child’s play.”
That was Amane’s cue to run through. “And Akutsu would know all about child’s play, because he likes to play with children.” He gyrated his hips pointedly and ran on by.
Akutsu gaped.
“Oh, Akutsu-senpai!” Dan’s rosy little cheeks flushed happily. “Is it true?” He fluttered his eyelashes hopefully.
Kurobane rushed by to witness Amane’s most recent damage, and he let out a scream of outrage.
“Gah!” Akutsu screamed in horror, stumbling backwards.
“Maybe,” Dan asked slyly, “after training camp is over, we can go back to my place?”
Akutsu screamed and, because he clearly had to pummel something for making him suffer like this, took off after Amane as well.
He quickly he realized that he was in ample company.
“He’s going to die,” Kaidoh hissed, running at the front of the mob.
Sanada grunted in agreement.
“It’s absolutely absurd,” Atobe insisted behind him in his purple, floral-print Hawaiian shirt. “As if I could be gay!”
Mizuki, who was right behind him in the designer knock-off of the exact same shirt, grunted in agreement.
“He’s gone too far this time,” Tachibana decided.
“I’ll claw his eyes out!” Marui shouted.
Fuji just smiled.
Everyone else from the camp was there, too.
As one, the mob came upon a fallen form. Kurobane, exhausted from chasing Amane around all day, had finally passed out in the middle of the courts.
“Which way did he go?” Akutsu crackled his knuckles.
Kurobane just pointed.
***
By the time Kurobane finally found the energy to move again, the sun was setting. Warily, he made his way over to the gates, where he’d heard shouts of triumph hours earlier. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug at the sight that awaited him there.
Amane stood, stripped completely naked, duct-taped to the flagpole. As Kurobane approached him from behind, he could see that someone had written on Amane’s back in blue permanent marker, “Here’s where you can stick your stupid innuendoes.” There was an arrow pointing straight down at Amane’s ass hole.
Amane mumbled hopefully when he saw Kurobane approaching. He had a bunch of papers shoved in his mouth, and they were acting as a very effective gag. Kurobane winced when he noticed that some particularly malicious individual had put duct tape all over Amane’s crotch, too. He didn’t even want to think about how painful that would be to pull off.
“Mmph-mmm-mmfuu!” Amane mumbled at him.
Kurobane reached him and realized, belatedly, that the papers in Amane’s mouth were pages from the book on innuendoes he’d received from a particularly sadistic uncle for his birthday the day before. It seemed the book and been ripped to shreds, its cover had been trampled upon, and - if Kurobane interpreted the still-burning cinders on the asphalt correctly - the pages not gagging Amane had been burned. Clearly, a ritual murder.
With a sigh, Kurobane removed the remaining pages from Amane’s mouth. “I told you so!” he snapped irritably.
Amane wetted his lips and then croaked out, “Tennis players must be really kinky, because they sure enjoyed giving me my punishment!” He tried to chuckle, but it came out as a wheeze instead.
Kurobane’s eyes widened in disbelief, and he shoved the pages right back in Amane’s mouth. “And they can stay like that until you finally learn your lesson!” he shouted.
Amane’s eyes just gleamed with laughter. Clearly, that day was never going to come.
So, I may just have a weak spot for bad puns. :P As always, feedback is most appreciated.