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I've invested in a dryer. It gave me an idea for something (which I didn't end up writing this time around, unfortunately). I was going to have that short Ryoma fellow beta the first one, but I believe he said he felt too aroused. Or was it embarrassed? I don't quite recall.
I suppose I should say that I've stopped naming my fics. It's a waste of time, wouldn't you say? I certainly would. Numbers will do just fine.
Title: One
Author: SsssSSSssSSSss
Fandom: Tennis Fandom
People: Kevin/Ryoma
Rating: I for I could go for some of this.
The stall door is cold against Ryoma's back when Kevin presses him against it, hands slipping underneath his shirt and scratching the hot, wet skin. He stands still, eyes open in surprise and shock when Kevin kisses him, fast and feverish. Kevin pulls back and glares.
"You're supposed to keep your eyes closed," he says in an annoyed tone.
"Why are you kissing me in the first place?" asks Ryoma, feeling awkward.
"Because I feel like it," answers Kevin before he leans in again. This kiss is softer, less demanding than the first one. Ryoma's eyes close, body relaxing against Kevin's. His hands are at his sides and Kevin pushes off his hat, letting it land on the floor. Ryoma growls and Kevin bites down, making Ryoma squirm. Kevin begins to pull back and Ryoma grabs him by the waist, pulling them closer together.
He likes the biting.
Kevin's hands are quick, slipping between their bodies, pulling down the thin white tennis shorts. Ryoma's breath hitches when Kevin thrusts against him, hard and warm, one hand circling both their erections. Kevin bites down and Ryoma's hands clench, fingernails dragging against Kevin's hips in long red marks. The door is still cold but Ryoma doesn't care - he doesn't want this to stop, not when it feels so good.
...not when Kevin is down so much it hurts and they both moan, until Ryoma exhales against Kevin's mouth, coming in fast, quick spurts and Kevin moans against his neck, coating Ryoma's stomach in thin streams of white.
"Che," says Ryoma when they break apart. "You always like doing stuff like this in public places."
"Pfft," says Kevin, pushing open the door and heading to the sink. "Like you don't."
I suppose this second one might have been in better taste. I don't quite know these two personally but they seem to have a following.
Title: Two
Author: SsssSSSssSSSss
Fandom: Tenisu
People: Kevin/Akaya
Rating: T for Tell me when this finally happens
Notes: If you are stuck on the ending, please encourage your mind to think of a four-letter word that begins with L and ends with E. I assure you it isn't difficult to come up with the answer.
The cutest thing about Kevin is that he never knows how to ask. When he tries, his face gets red and he mumbles, looking up shyly in random intervals. Akaya never tells him how much he wants to hold him during those times - how he wants to kiss and touch and say yes.
Kevin's kisses are less hesitant, almost violent. The intensity is overwhelming, making Akaya hard almost every time. He tries to stick to hand-holding in public, too embarrassed to think about what might happen if he didn't.
In his room it's different. It's hard to tell when Kevin will look at him, his eyes expectant and lips wet. As the weeks turn into months, Kevin takes more chances, still asking silently but with less hesitation. Akaya kisses back every time, wanting more of the angry pink lips against his own.
He remembers the first time he realises he isn't the only one affected when their tongues meet and slide wetly between their mouths: they are sitting on the floor, a movie playing in the background and Kevin slides into his lap, straddling him. Akaya stops momentarily, his heart tightening in shock when Kevin pushes against him, his erection hard and obvious. Kevin pulls away and Akaya blushes, both stammering apologies and sitting at opposite sides of the room.
The second time is just as surprising, but Akaya's been hoping for it. Two weeks of shy kisses and hesitant hugs lead to Akaya's bed, where Kevin bends his neck back to kiss him and Akaya slides his hand along Kevin's knee - sliding higher when Kevin's fingers trail through his hair, fisting the strands loosely. Akaya acts on impulse, wondering if Kevin will push him away as he leans Kevin backward, against his pillows, leaning his weight against Kevin's body, his erection just barely pressing against his hip.
Instead of pushing him away, Kevin moans and Akaya doesn't think he's ever heard anything so hot. His hands move to Kevin's back and both shift closer. Akaya slides one leg between Kevin's, urging Kevin's leg around his waist. He holds onto him tightly, enjoying the slide of his cock against Kevin's.
When Kevin squirms, Akaya's eyes open. Breath hard, he looks at Kevin, taking in the sight of swollen lips and mussed blond hair. He likes seeing Kevin like this but he doesn't say that, instead asking if everything is okay.
Kevin's eyes are serious and determined. "I...uh. I want to...touch you."
Akaya flushes a little. "Okay."
They sit up a little, Kevin pulling off Akaya's shirt before taking off his own. Akaya works on their zippers, pulling both down. He waits.
Kevin lies back down on the bed, on his side. Akaya does the same, watching him closely, unable to think about anything other than Kevin's words. He wants to say something but Kevin's hands are quicker, sliding beneath the fabric of his jeans. Akaya gasps when Kevin starts stroking him.
"How fast should I go?" whispers Kevin.
Akaya knows that Kevin is looking at him, even with his eyes closed. Being watched isn't something he normally likes (outside of tennis) but with Kevin it's different somehow - not calculating, but curious. Careful.
"You...can go a little...faster," breathes Akaya, having trouble forming words. He almost forgets; his hands move beneath the cargo pants Kevin wears and he slides cautious fingers around the waiting cock. It's hard to focus on speed, his body so close to finishing but Akaya tries, his eyes opening every now and again to watch the pained-pleasured look on Kevin's face.
He tugs Kevin's pants down a little more, shifting his own lower, kicking them off completely after a few seconds of frustration at not being able to move. Kevin's leg wraps around him once more, hands moving in near unison, hearts shuddering at the overdose of skin-to-skin contact.
Kevin comes with a high moan, "Kirihara" spilling from his lips three times. Akaya kisses him when he comes, come splashing thinly against Kevin's stomach and thighs.
He throws the covers over them, shoving their clothing beneath, just in case. He knows his mother will be up to check on them sooner than he wants, but he doesn't care just then. He wraps his arms around Kevin, sticky, tired and a little sweaty; kisses him on the forehead, then on the lips.
Kevin mumbles something against his neck, something in English - something three words long. Akaya doesn't know many words, but he knows the one spoken clearest from tired, twelve-year-old lips. He blushes and says, "Yeah, me too."
And as a SPECIAL REQUEST from princeofwriting, I've written the following. I don't normally do GRAPHIC SMUTTY SMUT for people, but since he SEEMED SO DESPERATE, I took pity and gave him this bit of graphic literature:
Title: Three
Author: SsssSSSssSSSss
Fandom: Tennis Boys
Sexing Between: Atobe/Ryoma
Rating: S for sex, sweat, semen, and - well, I don't want to spoil you entirely. ;)
Note to Ryoma: Please let me know if there's any other way I can further your masturbation material in the future. ♥
"Why do you have to have such bad taste in music?" asks Ryoma.
Atobe raises an eyebrow. "My taste is incomparible," he says with a laugh that suggests he is humouring Ryoma. "It's cultured."
"It sucks," says Ryoma, sitting down on the couch next to him. He doesn't like spending time at Atobe's - sure, they have more privacy but Atobe always insists on doing things to "culture" him. Meanwhile Ryoma is so sick of culture he wants to gag, preferably on the ugly threaded carpet just outside of Atobe's room. "What about going swimming?"
"Ore-sama already took a shower today," answers Atobe. "Two is too much."
Ryoma sighs and pulls his hat down over his eyes. If he has to stay here, maybe he can at least take a nap...
"If you're going to sleep, use the bed," says Atobe tersely.
Ryoma yawns, stretching his hands over his head. He waffles over to the luxurious bedspreads, ignoring the fine embroidery as he pulls them back, taking off his hat and slipping beneath them.
He feels the weight shift on the bed and is unsurprised when he hears Atobe's voice at his ear. "What are you doing?"
"Sleeping," says Ryoma, growing irritated. "If I still have to go to that stupid ballet thing, at least let me take a nap during this weird music."
Ryoma is shifted onto his back. He opens his eyes and sees Atobe, grinning down at him. "Ore-sama would be willing to exchange the ballet for something else."
A smile creeps along Ryoma's mouth but he tries to hide it. "Pervert."
Atobe bypasses Ryoma's lips for his neck, dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin, making Ryoma shudder. He reaches up, wrapping his arms around Atobe's neck, growing hard as Atobe licks and sucks at the base of his neck. He shrugs out of his clothing quickly, then undoes the buttons of Atobe's shirt and trousers, pulling the fabric back quickly, anxious for more skin. Atobe carefully removes his clothing placing it neatly at the edge of the bed before lying back on top of Ryoma, his cock hard, the tip wet with precome.
His fingers are long, sliding inside Ryoma - first one, then two, and Ryoma bites down on Atobe's shoulder. It always takes him a while to adjust before Atobe slides in the third finger, slow and deliberate, never going all the way in. Ryoma turns, warm at the feel of Atobe's chest against his back before Atobe slides in, all the way until he's buried within Ryoma. The pillows are soft beneath their heads as Atobe thrusts inside, pushing in and out, over and over, one hand sliding along the shaft of Ryoma's cock. Ryoma always comes first, his head buried in Atobe's pillows, muffling the screams he feels in the middle of his throat. Atobe takes longer to come, kissing Ryoma's neck and shoulders, running his fingers along Ryoma's chest and stomach, touching and feeling everything before spilling into the smaller body, filling him with wet warmth.
"We're still going to the ballet," Atobe says after.
"I knew you were lying," says Ryoma with a yawn, curling up against Atobe as he gives over to sleep.
I suppose I should say that I've stopped naming my fics. It's a waste of time, wouldn't you say? I certainly would. Numbers will do just fine.
Title: One
Author: SsssSSSssSSSss
Fandom: Tennis Fandom
People: Kevin/Ryoma
Rating: I for I could go for some of this.
The stall door is cold against Ryoma's back when Kevin presses him against it, hands slipping underneath his shirt and scratching the hot, wet skin. He stands still, eyes open in surprise and shock when Kevin kisses him, fast and feverish. Kevin pulls back and glares.
"You're supposed to keep your eyes closed," he says in an annoyed tone.
"Why are you kissing me in the first place?" asks Ryoma, feeling awkward.
"Because I feel like it," answers Kevin before he leans in again. This kiss is softer, less demanding than the first one. Ryoma's eyes close, body relaxing against Kevin's. His hands are at his sides and Kevin pushes off his hat, letting it land on the floor. Ryoma growls and Kevin bites down, making Ryoma squirm. Kevin begins to pull back and Ryoma grabs him by the waist, pulling them closer together.
He likes the biting.
Kevin's hands are quick, slipping between their bodies, pulling down the thin white tennis shorts. Ryoma's breath hitches when Kevin thrusts against him, hard and warm, one hand circling both their erections. Kevin bites down and Ryoma's hands clench, fingernails dragging against Kevin's hips in long red marks. The door is still cold but Ryoma doesn't care - he doesn't want this to stop, not when it feels so good.
...not when Kevin is down so much it hurts and they both moan, until Ryoma exhales against Kevin's mouth, coming in fast, quick spurts and Kevin moans against his neck, coating Ryoma's stomach in thin streams of white.
"Che," says Ryoma when they break apart. "You always like doing stuff like this in public places."
"Pfft," says Kevin, pushing open the door and heading to the sink. "Like you don't."
I suppose this second one might have been in better taste. I don't quite know these two personally but they seem to have a following.
Title: Two
Author: SsssSSSssSSSss
Fandom: Tenisu
People: Kevin/Akaya
Rating: T for Tell me when this finally happens
Notes: If you are stuck on the ending, please encourage your mind to think of a four-letter word that begins with L and ends with E. I assure you it isn't difficult to come up with the answer.
The cutest thing about Kevin is that he never knows how to ask. When he tries, his face gets red and he mumbles, looking up shyly in random intervals. Akaya never tells him how much he wants to hold him during those times - how he wants to kiss and touch and say yes.
Kevin's kisses are less hesitant, almost violent. The intensity is overwhelming, making Akaya hard almost every time. He tries to stick to hand-holding in public, too embarrassed to think about what might happen if he didn't.
In his room it's different. It's hard to tell when Kevin will look at him, his eyes expectant and lips wet. As the weeks turn into months, Kevin takes more chances, still asking silently but with less hesitation. Akaya kisses back every time, wanting more of the angry pink lips against his own.
He remembers the first time he realises he isn't the only one affected when their tongues meet and slide wetly between their mouths: they are sitting on the floor, a movie playing in the background and Kevin slides into his lap, straddling him. Akaya stops momentarily, his heart tightening in shock when Kevin pushes against him, his erection hard and obvious. Kevin pulls away and Akaya blushes, both stammering apologies and sitting at opposite sides of the room.
The second time is just as surprising, but Akaya's been hoping for it. Two weeks of shy kisses and hesitant hugs lead to Akaya's bed, where Kevin bends his neck back to kiss him and Akaya slides his hand along Kevin's knee - sliding higher when Kevin's fingers trail through his hair, fisting the strands loosely. Akaya acts on impulse, wondering if Kevin will push him away as he leans Kevin backward, against his pillows, leaning his weight against Kevin's body, his erection just barely pressing against his hip.
Instead of pushing him away, Kevin moans and Akaya doesn't think he's ever heard anything so hot. His hands move to Kevin's back and both shift closer. Akaya slides one leg between Kevin's, urging Kevin's leg around his waist. He holds onto him tightly, enjoying the slide of his cock against Kevin's.
When Kevin squirms, Akaya's eyes open. Breath hard, he looks at Kevin, taking in the sight of swollen lips and mussed blond hair. He likes seeing Kevin like this but he doesn't say that, instead asking if everything is okay.
Kevin's eyes are serious and determined. "I...uh. I want to...touch you."
Akaya flushes a little. "Okay."
They sit up a little, Kevin pulling off Akaya's shirt before taking off his own. Akaya works on their zippers, pulling both down. He waits.
Kevin lies back down on the bed, on his side. Akaya does the same, watching him closely, unable to think about anything other than Kevin's words. He wants to say something but Kevin's hands are quicker, sliding beneath the fabric of his jeans. Akaya gasps when Kevin starts stroking him.
"How fast should I go?" whispers Kevin.
Akaya knows that Kevin is looking at him, even with his eyes closed. Being watched isn't something he normally likes (outside of tennis) but with Kevin it's different somehow - not calculating, but curious. Careful.
"You...can go a little...faster," breathes Akaya, having trouble forming words. He almost forgets; his hands move beneath the cargo pants Kevin wears and he slides cautious fingers around the waiting cock. It's hard to focus on speed, his body so close to finishing but Akaya tries, his eyes opening every now and again to watch the pained-pleasured look on Kevin's face.
He tugs Kevin's pants down a little more, shifting his own lower, kicking them off completely after a few seconds of frustration at not being able to move. Kevin's leg wraps around him once more, hands moving in near unison, hearts shuddering at the overdose of skin-to-skin contact.
Kevin comes with a high moan, "Kirihara" spilling from his lips three times. Akaya kisses him when he comes, come splashing thinly against Kevin's stomach and thighs.
He throws the covers over them, shoving their clothing beneath, just in case. He knows his mother will be up to check on them sooner than he wants, but he doesn't care just then. He wraps his arms around Kevin, sticky, tired and a little sweaty; kisses him on the forehead, then on the lips.
Kevin mumbles something against his neck, something in English - something three words long. Akaya doesn't know many words, but he knows the one spoken clearest from tired, twelve-year-old lips. He blushes and says, "Yeah, me too."
And as a SPECIAL REQUEST from princeofwriting, I've written the following. I don't normally do GRAPHIC SMUTTY SMUT for people, but since he SEEMED SO DESPERATE, I took pity and gave him this bit of graphic literature:
Title: Three
Author: SsssSSSssSSSss
Fandom: Tennis Boys
Sexing Between: Atobe/Ryoma
Rating: S for sex, sweat, semen, and - well, I don't want to spoil you entirely. ;)
Note to Ryoma: Please let me know if there's any other way I can further your masturbation material in the future. ♥
"Why do you have to have such bad taste in music?" asks Ryoma.
Atobe raises an eyebrow. "My taste is incomparible," he says with a laugh that suggests he is humouring Ryoma. "It's cultured."
"It sucks," says Ryoma, sitting down on the couch next to him. He doesn't like spending time at Atobe's - sure, they have more privacy but Atobe always insists on doing things to "culture" him. Meanwhile Ryoma is so sick of culture he wants to gag, preferably on the ugly threaded carpet just outside of Atobe's room. "What about going swimming?"
"Ore-sama already took a shower today," answers Atobe. "Two is too much."
Ryoma sighs and pulls his hat down over his eyes. If he has to stay here, maybe he can at least take a nap...
"If you're going to sleep, use the bed," says Atobe tersely.
Ryoma yawns, stretching his hands over his head. He waffles over to the luxurious bedspreads, ignoring the fine embroidery as he pulls them back, taking off his hat and slipping beneath them.
He feels the weight shift on the bed and is unsurprised when he hears Atobe's voice at his ear. "What are you doing?"
"Sleeping," says Ryoma, growing irritated. "If I still have to go to that stupid ballet thing, at least let me take a nap during this weird music."
Ryoma is shifted onto his back. He opens his eyes and sees Atobe, grinning down at him. "Ore-sama would be willing to exchange the ballet for something else."
A smile creeps along Ryoma's mouth but he tries to hide it. "Pervert."
Atobe bypasses Ryoma's lips for his neck, dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin, making Ryoma shudder. He reaches up, wrapping his arms around Atobe's neck, growing hard as Atobe licks and sucks at the base of his neck. He shrugs out of his clothing quickly, then undoes the buttons of Atobe's shirt and trousers, pulling the fabric back quickly, anxious for more skin. Atobe carefully removes his clothing placing it neatly at the edge of the bed before lying back on top of Ryoma, his cock hard, the tip wet with precome.
His fingers are long, sliding inside Ryoma - first one, then two, and Ryoma bites down on Atobe's shoulder. It always takes him a while to adjust before Atobe slides in the third finger, slow and deliberate, never going all the way in. Ryoma turns, warm at the feel of Atobe's chest against his back before Atobe slides in, all the way until he's buried within Ryoma. The pillows are soft beneath their heads as Atobe thrusts inside, pushing in and out, over and over, one hand sliding along the shaft of Ryoma's cock. Ryoma always comes first, his head buried in Atobe's pillows, muffling the screams he feels in the middle of his throat. Atobe takes longer to come, kissing Ryoma's neck and shoulders, running his fingers along Ryoma's chest and stomach, touching and feeling everything before spilling into the smaller body, filling him with wet warmth.
"We're still going to the ballet," Atobe says after.
"I knew you were lying," says Ryoma with a yawn, curling up against Atobe as he gives over to sleep.