[Fanfic] 6-0, 6-1, 5-7 ( Happy Birthday Sanada!)
Title: 6-0, 6-1, 5-7
Aka: When Gold is really just Mustard Yellow
Author: Marourin
Pairing: Sanada x Tezuka
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: 2192
Author’s Notes: Angsty shower schmex because you know, Sanada’s bday without porn just shouldn’t happen. I suck at writing it-but he needs porn >:
(ironically enough Sanada, my old laptop, used to crash every time I read porny yaoi manga…)
Sanada’s knees were killing him though he refused any help as he stiffly strode to the showers. He was hot and sticky and in pain and he wanted water on his body like a man dying of thirst wanted a drink. He ached more than he ever remembered himself aching-even more than when his grandfather pummeled him in judo or kendo, even more than when he lost to Yukimura in practice matches.
And to think he won.
He thought of Tezuka’s elbow, swollen and angry red in color, and of the grimace of pain the brunette tried to hide as they shook hands after their match. He swallowed thickly and reminded himself that Tezuka was the one slacking to let himself get into such a state--the Seigaku captain should have known better than to aggravate the injury.
Sanada told himself this again as he set his bag down on the bench, then himself so he could toe his shoes off. He frowned at the sight of his wrapped knees and ran his hand over them, rubbing at them lightly in hopes of assuaging some of the throbbing pain.
“You shouldn’t be walking around so much like that.”
Sanada glanced up at the softly spoken words. He took in how fingers clenched a little tighter on a blue bag and tipped his head in acknowledgment of Seigaku’s captain.
Tezuka, he reminded himself. Captaincy came and went, but he knew the other boy first as Tezuka Kunimitsu, the boy that sauntered in and wrecked his life with two simple games. He spent three years unsatisfied by every win he ever had because of this boy.
But that was over. He conquered his mountain and that settled his wrongs. They were even now.
Sanada swallowed a little thickly as he recalled looking down at Tezuka, and how the other boy looked up at him from the ground as their hands clasped.
You ran away. Tezuka’s piercing eyes told him.
The dark haired boy had to look away from Tezuka, busying himself with tugging off his socks.
It was my duty as Emperor to win. It’s not just about me.
Rikkai’s feared vice-captain suddenly felt his throat tightening as he remembered the biting words Seigaku had hurled at him. Cheater. Coward. Dirty.
He clenched his jaw.
He won.
He repeated that to himself.
He won.
Shoulders squaring, Sanada lifted his head and glanced at Tezuka, studying the other boy who was methodically laying out his towel and toiletries for a shower. It was a tennis match and he won for his team. That was what mattered. He still bested the brunette before him and he had nothing to be sorry for, even if he abandoned their personal match--that too was part of FuuRinKaZan. Only a fool didn’t change his approach when a better path appeared.
“Tezuka.” Sanada stood up and not so much walked as stiffly stalked over to the other boy, placing a hand on his shoulder, grip tighter than he would have wanted in his determination to lay it out and straight and put the matter, the other boy, behind him for good.
“I’m not blaming you.”
Sanada blinked slowly at Tezuka’s words and suddenly realized how thin the other boy was and how the shoulder beneath his hand wasn’t as imposing as it appeared to be from across the net.
“Disappointed perhaps, but you did what you had to. It was a good match and I lost.”
Sanada’s brows drew tightly in frustration. He had conquered this mountain. He didn’t need to hear words that were suspiciously sounding like Tezuka was trying to reassure him about his decision.
Perhaps he was as surprised as Tezuka was at his actions. His fingers tightened again and his head bent down, capturing the brunette’s lips in a harsh, awkward kiss.
Sanada winced as his wrist was caught in a tight grip, the pain jolting him from his single minded focus on Tezuka’s warm mouth. His eyes flicked up and met a gaze blazing with anger and indignation and something else that made Sanada swallow again and turn his wrist to wrench it from tight fingers. He reached forward to grab Tezuka’s shoulders again and was only half way aware of Tezuka’s hands blocking his path. Instead of pulling back, he locked the other boy’s fingers with his own, then pushed Tezuka against the locker with a clang and bowed his head to claim lips parted in castigation.
The other boy was too thin, Sanada thought idly. He was lean and wiry but too thin for all the power he had on the court. A dim part of his mind was telling him not to press so hard, that Tezuka’s elbow was injured--but baser thought functions only told him that it weakened the push against him from Tezuka’s left arm and made it easier for him to lean his weight against Tezuka’s right. He could hold Tezuka down that way while his mouth pushed at the other boy’s urgently.
There was a minute shift under him and a thrill went through Sanada as he realized the other boy’s muscles were still warm from their match, burning through their sweat stained uniforms against his skin. Sanada’s palms were sweating and his heart was pounding in his chest. He had conquered this mountain.
Drowning in the taste of Tezuka’s mouth and tongue, Sanada had forgotten that he was kissing Tezuka Kunimitsu, the grandson of Tezuka Kunikaze and therefore heir to the old man’s judo prowess. He had forgotten also that his own knees were weak from the throbbing pain that he was getting better at ignoring.
It was in this oversight that he found himself breathless and dazed as his back hit the shower wall sharply from Tezuka’s throw. The tiles were cool under his heated back as Sanada stared at the other boy and took in how dark those piercing eyes were and how his lips were reddened.
Sanada wondered if it were Tezuka’s first kiss.
Unconsciously licking his lips, Sanada sincerely hoped so.
He watched the slighter boy stalk into the shower stall after him and he found his eyes fixed on the brunette that had ruined his life 6-0, 6-1. There was no net between them now but Tezuka was as he always saw him, facing him with those burning, unreadable eyes and looking at him as if he were ready to fight to the death.
Sanada didn’t know why his heart skipped a beat as he felt Tezuka’s soft lips crushing down on his. His arms came up to pull the other boy closer but he felt Tezuka’s fingers catch his hands and push them back against the tile wall. He tugged only half heartedly, more intent on invading Tezuka’s mouth than he was on holding the other boy.
In his mind, Sanada replayed the match between them and felt his body keying up even higher, his mouth more insistent as he finally got Tezuka’s lips to part to his tongue.
‘Invade like fire’ was always his favorite battle tactic.
Dimly, he was aware of being wet and that in their jostling for position, one or both of them had hit the shower knobs and the small stall was soon filled with the sound of water hitting tile and their heavy breathing. He groaned as he felt one of Tezuka’s hands slip down to cup him through his shorts, a pulse of pleasure sharp and intense shooting up his body. He reached down to help push his pants down but felt the other boy slap his hand aside. A spark of anger flared in him before the curl of Tezuka’s fingers solidly around his cock made his mind blank.
Hips bucking to the tight grip and grinding eagerly to Tezuka’s calloused fingers, Sanada had to lean heavily against the tile to keep his weakened knees from crumpling. He grit his teeth against another moan and clenched his hands tight on Tezuka’s shoulders as the other boy stroked him roughly. He felt like he was on the court again, getting dragged left and right by Tezuka’s Zone even as he fiercely tried to pound straight down the center of the line.
He hated it.
The surprise in Tezuka’s eyes satisfied something in Sanada as he turned them again, pressing all his weight down on the brunette’s shoulders and pinning him to the tile. He was breathing hard and he could feel the warning tension in Tezuka’s fingers around his aching cock.
Sanada only found himself more turned on as he roughly took the other boy’s mouth, plundering even as his hand moved down and shoved down Tezuka’s white shorts. He could feel heat there and he tugged the other boy free from his shorts with a grunt of satisfaction. He squeezed and rubbed his thumb over the exposed head of the brunette’s cock, liking how Tezuka’s hand faltered at the action. He shifted his hips until his own cock bumped against the other boy’s, then ground them together with short, awkward thrusts.
He was surprised at how good the hot, wet slip of the other boy’s cock against his own felt. His hand closed around the both of them, making the friction tighter as his movements grew more frantic. He loved this, Sanada realized, loved how the smaller boy’s lips were parting in gasps for breath and how fingers curled in his shirt, white knuckled and shaking. His head lowered, letting Tezuka breathe in a fit of generosity, and he mouthed at the bared expanse of skin between brown hair and the blue collar of Tezuka’s uniform. He was just beginning to draw hard on the skin, thrilling at the thought of leaving a mark on the untouched skin, when he felt fingers wind in his hair and pull sharply, forcing his head up and away from his goal.
He swung a hard glare at Tezuka, irritated at the interruption, and parted his lips to voice his displeasure with the other boy when he was stilled with cool fingers cradling his face.
Suddenly his mouth was dry and all he could see were Tezuka’s darkened eyes looking at him through tangled tendrils of sopping wet hair. He forgot the scathing words he had prepared as their lips met again, softly, tenderly, and took his breath away like a punch to the solar plexus. Sanada desperately wondered if Tezuka’s lips were always that soft and if his tongue always felt so good and what that taste in his mouth was…and then his thoughts dissolved to nothing as his cock twitched and he pulsed his release in a mess over their stomachs.
Sanada’s gaze was lowered, watching the water wash over their bodies and taking away the physical evidence his climax and the golden afterglow with it.
He offered no resistance as Tezuka pushed up this time and leaned his back against the tile. He watched the other boy tug white shorts carefully up and lean down to pick up the blue bag he set on the bench when he first stepped into the locker room.
When Tezuka picked up a towel from the floor and ran it over his wet hair, Sanada realized that the boy had picked up the wrong one-it was his Rikkai emblem waving sadly against the rich brown of Tezuka’s hair. Blinking slowly, Sanada came to another realization-the yellow was a really ugly color. He always used to proclaim it Rikkai gold but now with the poor light of the locker room as witness, Sanada could only say that the color was really just an ugly shade of mustard yellow.
Disturbed by this thought, Sanada refocused his gaze on the boy holding the towel. The dark haired boy took in how Tezuka’s lips were pressed in a tense line and he couldn’t help but remember how sweet those lips tasted when parted and swollen from kisses. He couldn’t help but think about that lean, lithely muscled body pressed under his own with their cocks slipping slickly together. He began to fantasize about what more could have happened-how good those soft lips would have felt on places other than his mouth or what the brunette’s firm ass would feel like to grind against. He wet his lips, eyes dark as his gaze followed the other boy when he made his way to the door.
Tezuka was a mountain he had conquered, Sanada had to remind himself. The other boy was behind him now-he had conquered him, the boy who ruined his life in two games.
Three, a voice whispered.
“You’re slacking.” He said towards Tezuka’s back but the brunette didn’t turn around--he didn’t even pause as he stepped out the door. Sanada felt a stab in his chest.
He remembered the softness of Tezuka’s lips when he kissed him and felt the heat run through his body. He remembered eyes staring him down from across the net, ready to fight him to the death, and he covered his eyes with his hand in a faintly pained gesture.
6-0, 6-1, 5-7 and his life was ruined.
[End]
Aka: When Gold is really just Mustard Yellow
Author: Marourin
Pairing: Sanada x Tezuka
Rating: Hard R
Word Count: 2192
Author’s Notes: Angsty shower schmex because you know, Sanada’s bday without porn just shouldn’t happen. I suck at writing it-but he needs porn >:
(ironically enough Sanada, my old laptop, used to crash every time I read porny yaoi manga…)
Sanada’s knees were killing him though he refused any help as he stiffly strode to the showers. He was hot and sticky and in pain and he wanted water on his body like a man dying of thirst wanted a drink. He ached more than he ever remembered himself aching-even more than when his grandfather pummeled him in judo or kendo, even more than when he lost to Yukimura in practice matches.
And to think he won.
He thought of Tezuka’s elbow, swollen and angry red in color, and of the grimace of pain the brunette tried to hide as they shook hands after their match. He swallowed thickly and reminded himself that Tezuka was the one slacking to let himself get into such a state--the Seigaku captain should have known better than to aggravate the injury.
Sanada told himself this again as he set his bag down on the bench, then himself so he could toe his shoes off. He frowned at the sight of his wrapped knees and ran his hand over them, rubbing at them lightly in hopes of assuaging some of the throbbing pain.
“You shouldn’t be walking around so much like that.”
Sanada glanced up at the softly spoken words. He took in how fingers clenched a little tighter on a blue bag and tipped his head in acknowledgment of Seigaku’s captain.
Tezuka, he reminded himself. Captaincy came and went, but he knew the other boy first as Tezuka Kunimitsu, the boy that sauntered in and wrecked his life with two simple games. He spent three years unsatisfied by every win he ever had because of this boy.
But that was over. He conquered his mountain and that settled his wrongs. They were even now.
Sanada swallowed a little thickly as he recalled looking down at Tezuka, and how the other boy looked up at him from the ground as their hands clasped.
You ran away. Tezuka’s piercing eyes told him.
The dark haired boy had to look away from Tezuka, busying himself with tugging off his socks.
It was my duty as Emperor to win. It’s not just about me.
Rikkai’s feared vice-captain suddenly felt his throat tightening as he remembered the biting words Seigaku had hurled at him. Cheater. Coward. Dirty.
He clenched his jaw.
He won.
He repeated that to himself.
He won.
Shoulders squaring, Sanada lifted his head and glanced at Tezuka, studying the other boy who was methodically laying out his towel and toiletries for a shower. It was a tennis match and he won for his team. That was what mattered. He still bested the brunette before him and he had nothing to be sorry for, even if he abandoned their personal match--that too was part of FuuRinKaZan. Only a fool didn’t change his approach when a better path appeared.
“Tezuka.” Sanada stood up and not so much walked as stiffly stalked over to the other boy, placing a hand on his shoulder, grip tighter than he would have wanted in his determination to lay it out and straight and put the matter, the other boy, behind him for good.
“I’m not blaming you.”
Sanada blinked slowly at Tezuka’s words and suddenly realized how thin the other boy was and how the shoulder beneath his hand wasn’t as imposing as it appeared to be from across the net.
“Disappointed perhaps, but you did what you had to. It was a good match and I lost.”
Sanada’s brows drew tightly in frustration. He had conquered this mountain. He didn’t need to hear words that were suspiciously sounding like Tezuka was trying to reassure him about his decision.
Perhaps he was as surprised as Tezuka was at his actions. His fingers tightened again and his head bent down, capturing the brunette’s lips in a harsh, awkward kiss.
Sanada winced as his wrist was caught in a tight grip, the pain jolting him from his single minded focus on Tezuka’s warm mouth. His eyes flicked up and met a gaze blazing with anger and indignation and something else that made Sanada swallow again and turn his wrist to wrench it from tight fingers. He reached forward to grab Tezuka’s shoulders again and was only half way aware of Tezuka’s hands blocking his path. Instead of pulling back, he locked the other boy’s fingers with his own, then pushed Tezuka against the locker with a clang and bowed his head to claim lips parted in castigation.
The other boy was too thin, Sanada thought idly. He was lean and wiry but too thin for all the power he had on the court. A dim part of his mind was telling him not to press so hard, that Tezuka’s elbow was injured--but baser thought functions only told him that it weakened the push against him from Tezuka’s left arm and made it easier for him to lean his weight against Tezuka’s right. He could hold Tezuka down that way while his mouth pushed at the other boy’s urgently.
There was a minute shift under him and a thrill went through Sanada as he realized the other boy’s muscles were still warm from their match, burning through their sweat stained uniforms against his skin. Sanada’s palms were sweating and his heart was pounding in his chest. He had conquered this mountain.
Drowning in the taste of Tezuka’s mouth and tongue, Sanada had forgotten that he was kissing Tezuka Kunimitsu, the grandson of Tezuka Kunikaze and therefore heir to the old man’s judo prowess. He had forgotten also that his own knees were weak from the throbbing pain that he was getting better at ignoring.
It was in this oversight that he found himself breathless and dazed as his back hit the shower wall sharply from Tezuka’s throw. The tiles were cool under his heated back as Sanada stared at the other boy and took in how dark those piercing eyes were and how his lips were reddened.
Sanada wondered if it were Tezuka’s first kiss.
Unconsciously licking his lips, Sanada sincerely hoped so.
He watched the slighter boy stalk into the shower stall after him and he found his eyes fixed on the brunette that had ruined his life 6-0, 6-1. There was no net between them now but Tezuka was as he always saw him, facing him with those burning, unreadable eyes and looking at him as if he were ready to fight to the death.
Sanada didn’t know why his heart skipped a beat as he felt Tezuka’s soft lips crushing down on his. His arms came up to pull the other boy closer but he felt Tezuka’s fingers catch his hands and push them back against the tile wall. He tugged only half heartedly, more intent on invading Tezuka’s mouth than he was on holding the other boy.
In his mind, Sanada replayed the match between them and felt his body keying up even higher, his mouth more insistent as he finally got Tezuka’s lips to part to his tongue.
‘Invade like fire’ was always his favorite battle tactic.
Dimly, he was aware of being wet and that in their jostling for position, one or both of them had hit the shower knobs and the small stall was soon filled with the sound of water hitting tile and their heavy breathing. He groaned as he felt one of Tezuka’s hands slip down to cup him through his shorts, a pulse of pleasure sharp and intense shooting up his body. He reached down to help push his pants down but felt the other boy slap his hand aside. A spark of anger flared in him before the curl of Tezuka’s fingers solidly around his cock made his mind blank.
Hips bucking to the tight grip and grinding eagerly to Tezuka’s calloused fingers, Sanada had to lean heavily against the tile to keep his weakened knees from crumpling. He grit his teeth against another moan and clenched his hands tight on Tezuka’s shoulders as the other boy stroked him roughly. He felt like he was on the court again, getting dragged left and right by Tezuka’s Zone even as he fiercely tried to pound straight down the center of the line.
He hated it.
The surprise in Tezuka’s eyes satisfied something in Sanada as he turned them again, pressing all his weight down on the brunette’s shoulders and pinning him to the tile. He was breathing hard and he could feel the warning tension in Tezuka’s fingers around his aching cock.
Sanada only found himself more turned on as he roughly took the other boy’s mouth, plundering even as his hand moved down and shoved down Tezuka’s white shorts. He could feel heat there and he tugged the other boy free from his shorts with a grunt of satisfaction. He squeezed and rubbed his thumb over the exposed head of the brunette’s cock, liking how Tezuka’s hand faltered at the action. He shifted his hips until his own cock bumped against the other boy’s, then ground them together with short, awkward thrusts.
He was surprised at how good the hot, wet slip of the other boy’s cock against his own felt. His hand closed around the both of them, making the friction tighter as his movements grew more frantic. He loved this, Sanada realized, loved how the smaller boy’s lips were parting in gasps for breath and how fingers curled in his shirt, white knuckled and shaking. His head lowered, letting Tezuka breathe in a fit of generosity, and he mouthed at the bared expanse of skin between brown hair and the blue collar of Tezuka’s uniform. He was just beginning to draw hard on the skin, thrilling at the thought of leaving a mark on the untouched skin, when he felt fingers wind in his hair and pull sharply, forcing his head up and away from his goal.
He swung a hard glare at Tezuka, irritated at the interruption, and parted his lips to voice his displeasure with the other boy when he was stilled with cool fingers cradling his face.
Suddenly his mouth was dry and all he could see were Tezuka’s darkened eyes looking at him through tangled tendrils of sopping wet hair. He forgot the scathing words he had prepared as their lips met again, softly, tenderly, and took his breath away like a punch to the solar plexus. Sanada desperately wondered if Tezuka’s lips were always that soft and if his tongue always felt so good and what that taste in his mouth was…and then his thoughts dissolved to nothing as his cock twitched and he pulsed his release in a mess over their stomachs.
Sanada’s gaze was lowered, watching the water wash over their bodies and taking away the physical evidence his climax and the golden afterglow with it.
He offered no resistance as Tezuka pushed up this time and leaned his back against the tile. He watched the other boy tug white shorts carefully up and lean down to pick up the blue bag he set on the bench when he first stepped into the locker room.
When Tezuka picked up a towel from the floor and ran it over his wet hair, Sanada realized that the boy had picked up the wrong one-it was his Rikkai emblem waving sadly against the rich brown of Tezuka’s hair. Blinking slowly, Sanada came to another realization-the yellow was a really ugly color. He always used to proclaim it Rikkai gold but now with the poor light of the locker room as witness, Sanada could only say that the color was really just an ugly shade of mustard yellow.
Disturbed by this thought, Sanada refocused his gaze on the boy holding the towel. The dark haired boy took in how Tezuka’s lips were pressed in a tense line and he couldn’t help but remember how sweet those lips tasted when parted and swollen from kisses. He couldn’t help but think about that lean, lithely muscled body pressed under his own with their cocks slipping slickly together. He began to fantasize about what more could have happened-how good those soft lips would have felt on places other than his mouth or what the brunette’s firm ass would feel like to grind against. He wet his lips, eyes dark as his gaze followed the other boy when he made his way to the door.
Tezuka was a mountain he had conquered, Sanada had to remind himself. The other boy was behind him now-he had conquered him, the boy who ruined his life in two games.
Three, a voice whispered.
“You’re slacking.” He said towards Tezuka’s back but the brunette didn’t turn around--he didn’t even pause as he stepped out the door. Sanada felt a stab in his chest.
He remembered the softness of Tezuka’s lips when he kissed him and felt the heat run through his body. He remembered eyes staring him down from across the net, ready to fight him to the death, and he covered his eyes with his hand in a faintly pained gesture.
6-0, 6-1, 5-7 and his life was ruined.
[End]