Prince of Tennis: Oishi/Eiji
Title: Synchronicity
Author: Lexie / nachtmusik
Theme: #3 - Passion
Rating: PG-13
A look, a glance, a flash of skin. The happy flush of exertion, panted breaths moving a finely sculpted chest. The rush of adrenaline, blood pounding with a primal beat, drowning out all other sound. And this was just on the tennis court.
Their doubles, their synchronicity, it had become unparalleled. This heightened awareness of one another had its drawbacks, though. The clubroom had become something akin to a torture chamber, where each movement, each breath, each look became a tease that had the both of them on edge.
One day it came to be too much, Eiji's nerves too raw to handle being near Oishi as he changed back into his school clothes, so he stalked outside again to work on his serve, supposedly. Returning a half hour later, decidedly more worn out than before, dark red hairs clinging to his face, jersey askew and breathing labored. He went through the motions of changing, wanting nothing more than to go home and have a long soak in the tub to release any leftover tension.
Oishi had other plans.
Starting at hearing someone moving in the room, which he had previously thought empty, Eiji froze at the look in Oishi's eyes, deep green seemingly on fire with some unnamed emotion. He tried to speak, but his voice wouldn't work, and so he just stood there, holding his sweat-soaked jersey in his hands, and waiting, though for what he wasn't quite sure.
In three steps, Oishi had crossed the length of the room, and when both their lips met in a heated kiss, it was then that they learned what true passion, true synchronicity was, both on the courts and off.
Author: Lexie / nachtmusik
Theme: #3 - Passion
Rating: PG-13
A look, a glance, a flash of skin. The happy flush of exertion, panted breaths moving a finely sculpted chest. The rush of adrenaline, blood pounding with a primal beat, drowning out all other sound. And this was just on the tennis court.
Their doubles, their synchronicity, it had become unparalleled. This heightened awareness of one another had its drawbacks, though. The clubroom had become something akin to a torture chamber, where each movement, each breath, each look became a tease that had the both of them on edge.
One day it came to be too much, Eiji's nerves too raw to handle being near Oishi as he changed back into his school clothes, so he stalked outside again to work on his serve, supposedly. Returning a half hour later, decidedly more worn out than before, dark red hairs clinging to his face, jersey askew and breathing labored. He went through the motions of changing, wanting nothing more than to go home and have a long soak in the tub to release any leftover tension.
Oishi had other plans.
Starting at hearing someone moving in the room, which he had previously thought empty, Eiji froze at the look in Oishi's eyes, deep green seemingly on fire with some unnamed emotion. He tried to speak, but his voice wouldn't work, and so he just stood there, holding his sweat-soaked jersey in his hands, and waiting, though for what he wasn't quite sure.
In three steps, Oishi had crossed the length of the room, and when both their lips met in a heated kiss, it was then that they learned what true passion, true synchronicity was, both on the courts and off.