Eyeshield 21- "Style of Play"
It's um, still not midnight on the West coast but HA it is here so I'm going to use my time zone advantage to say it first (maybe). HAPPY BIRTHDAY EMI!
Title: Style of Play
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: TakamixSakuraba
Word Count: 826
Warning/s: No real spoilers I can imagine right now.
Summary: Takami is the planner.
Dedication: garuru- HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I’m sorry I suck so much. ^^;;
A/N: I’m so behind on Eyeshield so forgive me if this is inane. I WISH THEY WOULD SUB FASTER.
The first time Takami kissed Sakuraba, he knew exactly how Sakuraba would react.
Takami was a planner after all, had spent hour after hour at his computer watching, analyzing, theorizing, preparing. All of the team’s game tapes, highlight tapes, paper stats, still photos. It was what he did to prepare, what gave him an edge when his physical abilities were limited in comparison to some other athletes, when he knew he didn’t have as much talent as other boys. He used what he did have-knowledge, preparation, dedication.
And so he knew without having to look that the muscles in the blond’s arms would immediately flex in surprise when they kissed, that his hands would fist and his breath would hitch for just a breath. And they did.
He knew how to counter those movements too, knew Sakuraba well enough to take those physical reactions-that shock, surprise, etc.-and use every bit of it to his own advantage.
So at the first touch of their lips he maneuvered those arms against his chest-wrapped his own around them-- so that they could tense against his chest, so that the other boy’s hands would fist in his shirt. And he took advantage of Sakuraba’s gasp-that one breath that hitched in his throat-- to push forward a little more, tip the blond’s head backwards so that his chin came up and his mouth was gently forced open.
Takami kept kissing Sakuraba even when the receiver didn’t respond right away, knew that the other boy’s personality was similar to his in that they were both thinkers, knew that a million thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute with no coherency through the blond’s head right now as he tried to adjust or evade, overpower or slip away.
Takami and Sakuraba were both thinkers. Takami knew that.
But of the two… Takami was the planner.
And so he knew the locker room wall was exactly two steps backwards from their current position (as he’d previously theorized would be the best place to spring his attack), and while Sakuraba was still pliable, still too busy thinking, he gently guided the blond backwards-one, two-- until his shoulders bumped the plaster.
The shift surprised the blond, he pulled back with a huge gasp of air then-- like Takami had expected he would-- stood leaning against the wall panting, wide-eyed and flushed, lips kiss swollen and very vaguely pink around the tips of his ears. “T-takami-senpai?” he breathed, and reached up dumbly to touch his own lips like he couldn’t quite believe himself.
Takami smiled slowly then, adjusted his glasses. “Done thinking yet?” he asked calmly, and knew by hands that had loosened their grip on the front of his shirt somewhat that that was just about the case. One more push, maybe two, and he’d have an answer.
“What are you doing?” Sakuraba asked quietly, and sounded puzzled and embarrassed rather than angry.
Takami laughed, and with just one lingering glance, noticed every detail about Sakuraba’s body-how he was shaking just a tiny bit, how he licked his lips, how he couldn’t look Takami in the eye. How his blush went all the way down his neck, disappearing under the practice jersey to go on for however long on that pale skin that it did.
Takami wanted to find out.
“I’m kissing you,” he responded after a breath instead, and knew Sakuraba was still thinking a hundred miles per second, trying to figure this out, what to do, where to run or how to cut.
But Takami had studied the receiver meticulously for a long time now. And as the planner, knew that there was nowhere to go for the blond just yet.
“I…” Sakuraba coughed then, to make his voice sound stronger than it felt. “I don’t know… I mean… I…”
“Keep thinking about it,” Takami encouraged him gently, and reached up to touch his cheek. “No rush.”
Sakuraba chuckled at that a little bit, though it might have been to hide the slight shudder that went up and down his spine from the feather light movements of the quarterback’s fingers against the line of his jaw. “I…”
Takami kissed him again.
He was the planner after all. And after countless hours of patiently watching all that footage, studying all those stats, analyzing all those interviews, he thought he had a pretty good grasp on Sakuraba’s style of play, on the way the receiver went about things when it came right down to it. When everything was on the line. Third and inches, play clock running down.
Like the back of his own hand, Takami knew these things about Sakuaraba.
He knew that he was a thinker, for one.
And for another, he knew that he did his best work under pressure.
So he smiled into the kiss, put the pressure on, and waited for his player to give him something great.
Sakuraba didn’t let him down.
END
EDITS PLZ.
Title: Style of Play
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Character/s: TakamixSakuraba
Word Count: 826
Warning/s: No real spoilers I can imagine right now.
Summary: Takami is the planner.
Dedication: garuru- HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I’m sorry I suck so much. ^^;;
A/N: I’m so behind on Eyeshield so forgive me if this is inane. I WISH THEY WOULD SUB FASTER.
The first time Takami kissed Sakuraba, he knew exactly how Sakuraba would react.
Takami was a planner after all, had spent hour after hour at his computer watching, analyzing, theorizing, preparing. All of the team’s game tapes, highlight tapes, paper stats, still photos. It was what he did to prepare, what gave him an edge when his physical abilities were limited in comparison to some other athletes, when he knew he didn’t have as much talent as other boys. He used what he did have-knowledge, preparation, dedication.
And so he knew without having to look that the muscles in the blond’s arms would immediately flex in surprise when they kissed, that his hands would fist and his breath would hitch for just a breath. And they did.
He knew how to counter those movements too, knew Sakuraba well enough to take those physical reactions-that shock, surprise, etc.-and use every bit of it to his own advantage.
So at the first touch of their lips he maneuvered those arms against his chest-wrapped his own around them-- so that they could tense against his chest, so that the other boy’s hands would fist in his shirt. And he took advantage of Sakuraba’s gasp-that one breath that hitched in his throat-- to push forward a little more, tip the blond’s head backwards so that his chin came up and his mouth was gently forced open.
Takami kept kissing Sakuraba even when the receiver didn’t respond right away, knew that the other boy’s personality was similar to his in that they were both thinkers, knew that a million thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute with no coherency through the blond’s head right now as he tried to adjust or evade, overpower or slip away.
Takami and Sakuraba were both thinkers. Takami knew that.
But of the two… Takami was the planner.
And so he knew the locker room wall was exactly two steps backwards from their current position (as he’d previously theorized would be the best place to spring his attack), and while Sakuraba was still pliable, still too busy thinking, he gently guided the blond backwards-one, two-- until his shoulders bumped the plaster.
The shift surprised the blond, he pulled back with a huge gasp of air then-- like Takami had expected he would-- stood leaning against the wall panting, wide-eyed and flushed, lips kiss swollen and very vaguely pink around the tips of his ears. “T-takami-senpai?” he breathed, and reached up dumbly to touch his own lips like he couldn’t quite believe himself.
Takami smiled slowly then, adjusted his glasses. “Done thinking yet?” he asked calmly, and knew by hands that had loosened their grip on the front of his shirt somewhat that that was just about the case. One more push, maybe two, and he’d have an answer.
“What are you doing?” Sakuraba asked quietly, and sounded puzzled and embarrassed rather than angry.
Takami laughed, and with just one lingering glance, noticed every detail about Sakuraba’s body-how he was shaking just a tiny bit, how he licked his lips, how he couldn’t look Takami in the eye. How his blush went all the way down his neck, disappearing under the practice jersey to go on for however long on that pale skin that it did.
Takami wanted to find out.
“I’m kissing you,” he responded after a breath instead, and knew Sakuraba was still thinking a hundred miles per second, trying to figure this out, what to do, where to run or how to cut.
But Takami had studied the receiver meticulously for a long time now. And as the planner, knew that there was nowhere to go for the blond just yet.
“I…” Sakuraba coughed then, to make his voice sound stronger than it felt. “I don’t know… I mean… I…”
“Keep thinking about it,” Takami encouraged him gently, and reached up to touch his cheek. “No rush.”
Sakuraba chuckled at that a little bit, though it might have been to hide the slight shudder that went up and down his spine from the feather light movements of the quarterback’s fingers against the line of his jaw. “I…”
Takami kissed him again.
He was the planner after all. And after countless hours of patiently watching all that footage, studying all those stats, analyzing all those interviews, he thought he had a pretty good grasp on Sakuraba’s style of play, on the way the receiver went about things when it came right down to it. When everything was on the line. Third and inches, play clock running down.
Like the back of his own hand, Takami knew these things about Sakuaraba.
He knew that he was a thinker, for one.
And for another, he knew that he did his best work under pressure.
So he smiled into the kiss, put the pressure on, and waited for his player to give him something great.
Sakuraba didn’t let him down.
END
EDITS PLZ.