reposting fic here for simplicity
Written for lady_of_water at rikkai_shorts
Pairing: SanaYuki
Title: Whipped
Rating: R
Warnings: More implication than anything, really.
Sanada knows what the team thinks of him.
It's far easier to pretend he doesn't, however, and merely assign nearly unreasonable amounts of laps without explanation. The team doesn't dare question it, though, except for Akaya, who mentioned it one day, complaining about the 78% increase in laps and how it couldn't really be beneficial to their training. He had been running until three hours after sundown. Sanada thinks Akaya has been spending too much time with Renji.
He has heard Niou muttering "Yes, Mrs. Yukimura" after him, when he thinks Sanada can't hear. Marui has taken to following most of the conversations Sanada has with Seiichi with a hand motion, presumably miming a whip cracking, with Jackal providing the necessary sound effects.
He'd even seen a poorly-photoshopped wedding invitation in one of the trashcans in the clubroom. It depicted him in a rather position with Seiichi, and boldly invited all guests to bring as many friends as they liked.
Renji had pointedly placed Sanada in the dress.
*
They are in Seiichi's room, discussing the essay Ms. Watanabe had assigned for the upcoming week.
Or they had been, over an hour ago. Now Seichii is sitting on his bed, rambling about something or other relating to their classmates. Sanada is across the room, sitting at his boyfriend's desk, more or less doing math homework.
He isn't actually interested in conic sections, despite everything Renji has told him about the importance of being able to predict the trajectory of various shots, and how if he never passed algebra he'd be worse than worthless for the team. Instead, Sanada is tracing over a lopsided ellipse on his paper as he listens to the timbre of Seiichi's voice. He may have to recopy his homework later, but at the moment he is satisfied with being able to reassure himself that the fragile-looking other boy has recovered. Seichii is speaking with confidence, all traces of pain and weakness gone, about the mundane and the ordinary, about something aside from being in the hospital. This may have meant Sanada was listening to a dramatic reenactment of Umeko’s break-up with Kisho - Seiichi did a frighteningly good impression of both voices - but it didn’t matter.
Seiichi was better, and the rest of the team could go to hell.
Yukimura can tell Sanada is no longer paying attention to what he’s saying, even though he is facing the wall. His murmurs of assent had grown less and less frequent, and increasingly ill timed.
Bored, Yukimura reaches across his bed and pulls something out of his backpack. Sanada doesn't seem to notice, and so, with a flick of his wrist, perfected by days with nothing better to do, Yukimura throws the card at the back of his head.
Sanada rubs the site of impact with his hand and looks vaguely offended, but doesn't protest. He leans down to pick of the card, recognizing it as one of the evidently abundant copies of Renji's wedding invitations.
"Have you seen this, Genichirou?" Yukimura takes pleasure in watching Sanada's growing blush.
"I have." He’s impressed - Sanada had only hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Ah? What do you think, then?" Sanada fumbles considerably with this question, and Yukimura knows he can either wait here for an hour while the other boy comes up with a coherent response, or continue himself.
"You know, Genichirou-" he has to repress a smile at the expectant, eager look on Sanada's face - "Renji is wrong."
"I agree. I've already increased the weights on his wrists, and instructed him to find hours to improve his footwork outside of team practice. It isn't right to disrespect one's teammates like this and -"
Yukimura stops Sanada's tirade with a gesture. "Oh, that's not what I meant at all. I only thought that ... Stand up, will you?"
Sanada looks confused, but does so.
Yukimura lets his eyes rake over Sanada's body, and then closes them, shaking his head.
"Hm. I think I'd look better in the dress." Sanada blinks at him. "No offense, but you simply do not have the figure for it."
Sanada knows that the only reason his jaw isn't hanging, distended from his mouth, is that his parents have taught him how rude it is to gape.
Yukimura hops off of his bed, eyes bright with amusement. He wraps his arms around Sanada's neck, pressing a kiss to his nose. "Don't look so surprised, Genichirou. White's not really your color, either. Although, if you had your heart set on heels..."
Sanada cuts him off, sealing their lips together, and hopefully distracting Seiichi from any plans that he might be making.
It works for about two minutes.
Yukimura pulls back for a moment, breathing heavily. "Remind me to call our good friend Renji later, ne?"
Sanada knows this can't possibly bode well for him, but nods and leans forward to trace the place behind the other boy's ear with his tongue.
*
Renji should, at this point, have gathered enough data to be able to speculate why Yukimura needs to contact Fuji Syuusuke. Getting the information is, of course, a trifle - Sadaharu owes him a favor anyway, although why his own assistance is needed is questionable. As far as he knows, Fuji already has more contacts than he should be logically capable of having.
However, questioning Yukimura is not one of Renji's hobbies. If discovering Fuji's preference for cosplay stores is what his captain wants him to do, he'll do it.
Shifting the weights digging into his wrist, Renji pulls out his phone and dials the first number on his speed dial.
*
Kirihara is angry.
He can hear his mother's voice, scolding him for forgetting his coat at school countless times before. He was certain he'd had it in his bag, until he'd been about two blocks away from his house and realized it wasn't there.
He trudges back to the clubroom, barely avoiding a fight with one of the other second years, and only because he knows he is already an hour late.
The room is still unlocked when he gets there, much to Kirihara's relief. He walks quickly to his locker, and starts putting in the combination.
He doesn't finish.
Sounds that he has never actually heard before are coming from the next row of lockers. Curious and confused, he wanders around to investigate.
Fukubuchou is completely naked save a black tie around his neck. Buchou is lying beneath him in a rather elaborate white dress, clutching the tie. They don't appear to notice him, even when he yelps and sprints out of the room, still without his coat.
*
Sanada collapses on top of Seiichi, sated and sticky, and probably ruining the dress. "Was that really necessary?"
Yukimura grins, arm loosely encircling Sanada's waist. "Possibly not. But we can't have everyone getting the wrong idea, can we?"
Sanada shrugs. If this is what being Seiichi’s bitch entails, he isn’t exactly complaining.
Pairing: SanaYuki
Title: Whipped
Rating: R
Warnings: More implication than anything, really.
Sanada knows what the team thinks of him.
It's far easier to pretend he doesn't, however, and merely assign nearly unreasonable amounts of laps without explanation. The team doesn't dare question it, though, except for Akaya, who mentioned it one day, complaining about the 78% increase in laps and how it couldn't really be beneficial to their training. He had been running until three hours after sundown. Sanada thinks Akaya has been spending too much time with Renji.
He has heard Niou muttering "Yes, Mrs. Yukimura" after him, when he thinks Sanada can't hear. Marui has taken to following most of the conversations Sanada has with Seiichi with a hand motion, presumably miming a whip cracking, with Jackal providing the necessary sound effects.
He'd even seen a poorly-photoshopped wedding invitation in one of the trashcans in the clubroom. It depicted him in a rather position with Seiichi, and boldly invited all guests to bring as many friends as they liked.
Renji had pointedly placed Sanada in the dress.
*
They are in Seiichi's room, discussing the essay Ms. Watanabe had assigned for the upcoming week.
Or they had been, over an hour ago. Now Seichii is sitting on his bed, rambling about something or other relating to their classmates. Sanada is across the room, sitting at his boyfriend's desk, more or less doing math homework.
He isn't actually interested in conic sections, despite everything Renji has told him about the importance of being able to predict the trajectory of various shots, and how if he never passed algebra he'd be worse than worthless for the team. Instead, Sanada is tracing over a lopsided ellipse on his paper as he listens to the timbre of Seiichi's voice. He may have to recopy his homework later, but at the moment he is satisfied with being able to reassure himself that the fragile-looking other boy has recovered. Seichii is speaking with confidence, all traces of pain and weakness gone, about the mundane and the ordinary, about something aside from being in the hospital. This may have meant Sanada was listening to a dramatic reenactment of Umeko’s break-up with Kisho - Seiichi did a frighteningly good impression of both voices - but it didn’t matter.
Seiichi was better, and the rest of the team could go to hell.
Yukimura can tell Sanada is no longer paying attention to what he’s saying, even though he is facing the wall. His murmurs of assent had grown less and less frequent, and increasingly ill timed.
Bored, Yukimura reaches across his bed and pulls something out of his backpack. Sanada doesn't seem to notice, and so, with a flick of his wrist, perfected by days with nothing better to do, Yukimura throws the card at the back of his head.
Sanada rubs the site of impact with his hand and looks vaguely offended, but doesn't protest. He leans down to pick of the card, recognizing it as one of the evidently abundant copies of Renji's wedding invitations.
"Have you seen this, Genichirou?" Yukimura takes pleasure in watching Sanada's growing blush.
"I have." He’s impressed - Sanada had only hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Ah? What do you think, then?" Sanada fumbles considerably with this question, and Yukimura knows he can either wait here for an hour while the other boy comes up with a coherent response, or continue himself.
"You know, Genichirou-" he has to repress a smile at the expectant, eager look on Sanada's face - "Renji is wrong."
"I agree. I've already increased the weights on his wrists, and instructed him to find hours to improve his footwork outside of team practice. It isn't right to disrespect one's teammates like this and -"
Yukimura stops Sanada's tirade with a gesture. "Oh, that's not what I meant at all. I only thought that ... Stand up, will you?"
Sanada looks confused, but does so.
Yukimura lets his eyes rake over Sanada's body, and then closes them, shaking his head.
"Hm. I think I'd look better in the dress." Sanada blinks at him. "No offense, but you simply do not have the figure for it."
Sanada knows that the only reason his jaw isn't hanging, distended from his mouth, is that his parents have taught him how rude it is to gape.
Yukimura hops off of his bed, eyes bright with amusement. He wraps his arms around Sanada's neck, pressing a kiss to his nose. "Don't look so surprised, Genichirou. White's not really your color, either. Although, if you had your heart set on heels..."
Sanada cuts him off, sealing their lips together, and hopefully distracting Seiichi from any plans that he might be making.
It works for about two minutes.
Yukimura pulls back for a moment, breathing heavily. "Remind me to call our good friend Renji later, ne?"
Sanada knows this can't possibly bode well for him, but nods and leans forward to trace the place behind the other boy's ear with his tongue.
*
Renji should, at this point, have gathered enough data to be able to speculate why Yukimura needs to contact Fuji Syuusuke. Getting the information is, of course, a trifle - Sadaharu owes him a favor anyway, although why his own assistance is needed is questionable. As far as he knows, Fuji already has more contacts than he should be logically capable of having.
However, questioning Yukimura is not one of Renji's hobbies. If discovering Fuji's preference for cosplay stores is what his captain wants him to do, he'll do it.
Shifting the weights digging into his wrist, Renji pulls out his phone and dials the first number on his speed dial.
*
Kirihara is angry.
He can hear his mother's voice, scolding him for forgetting his coat at school countless times before. He was certain he'd had it in his bag, until he'd been about two blocks away from his house and realized it wasn't there.
He trudges back to the clubroom, barely avoiding a fight with one of the other second years, and only because he knows he is already an hour late.
The room is still unlocked when he gets there, much to Kirihara's relief. He walks quickly to his locker, and starts putting in the combination.
He doesn't finish.
Sounds that he has never actually heard before are coming from the next row of lockers. Curious and confused, he wanders around to investigate.
Fukubuchou is completely naked save a black tie around his neck. Buchou is lying beneath him in a rather elaborate white dress, clutching the tie. They don't appear to notice him, even when he yelps and sprints out of the room, still without his coat.
*
Sanada collapses on top of Seiichi, sated and sticky, and probably ruining the dress. "Was that really necessary?"
Yukimura grins, arm loosely encircling Sanada's waist. "Possibly not. But we can't have everyone getting the wrong idea, can we?"
Sanada shrugs. If this is what being Seiichi’s bitch entails, he isn’t exactly complaining.