Prince of Tennis - Chitose & Oshitari Kenya
Title: Game
Author: midorinomizu
Theme: Passion
Rating: PG-13
He decides he's tired of waiting. The frustration is beginning to take its toll.
Chitose has been teasing him; little touches, longer looks that say exactly what he plans to do but never gets done. Kenya's been teasing him right back; he gives as good as it gets. It's become a game between the two of them. Which will give first?
Kenya sacrifices the superficial victory for one he knows will be far more satisfying.
He surprises Chitose - there's something amusing about managing that - but Chitose doesn't have much time to stay surprised. Kenya's hands are on him, sliding over slick skin. His lips bite at him.
Kenya purrs as he feels Chitose sigh and give in, and he presses the other boy against the water-slicked wall. He's in control now, he thinks; he's calling the shots, but not for long. He can feel Chitose's muscles tense and shiver under his hands and he knows he has only a few moments before Chitose takes the control away, before he switches their positions.
Shiraishi says that Chitose plays tennis like a sleek, dangerous jungle cat. Kenya's intuition says that the comparison suits Chitose off-court as well.
He expects it, but he still draws in a breath when he's pinned, when Chitose stares down at him with black eyes.
“I'm done playing,” Chitose says, stretching the words out lazily. His dark curls frame his face in thick waves tamed by the spray of water. Kenya's arms slide around his neck.
“It's about damn time.”
Author: midorinomizu
Theme: Passion
Rating: PG-13
He decides he's tired of waiting. The frustration is beginning to take its toll.
Chitose has been teasing him; little touches, longer looks that say exactly what he plans to do but never gets done. Kenya's been teasing him right back; he gives as good as it gets. It's become a game between the two of them. Which will give first?
Kenya sacrifices the superficial victory for one he knows will be far more satisfying.
He surprises Chitose - there's something amusing about managing that - but Chitose doesn't have much time to stay surprised. Kenya's hands are on him, sliding over slick skin. His lips bite at him.
Kenya purrs as he feels Chitose sigh and give in, and he presses the other boy against the water-slicked wall. He's in control now, he thinks; he's calling the shots, but not for long. He can feel Chitose's muscles tense and shiver under his hands and he knows he has only a few moments before Chitose takes the control away, before he switches their positions.
Shiraishi says that Chitose plays tennis like a sleek, dangerous jungle cat. Kenya's intuition says that the comparison suits Chitose off-court as well.
He expects it, but he still draws in a breath when he's pinned, when Chitose stares down at him with black eyes.
“I'm done playing,” Chitose says, stretching the words out lazily. His dark curls frame his face in thick waves tamed by the spray of water. Kenya's arms slide around his neck.
“It's about damn time.”