crescit eundo [Prince of Tennis | Ryou/Saeki | R]
Title: crescit eundo
By: worblehat
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Ryou/Saeki
Rating: R
Summary: Saeki admires Ryou's hair, a confession of sorts takes place, and Ryou ends up a little flustered.
Notes: Written for feuillu as part of the last year of santa_smex. Self-beta'd so there may be some errors - feel free to point them out! Also, I'm not sure how IC this is but I had fun writing it so...um. Yeah, ahaha. :D
Word Count: 4,492
“I'm missing my hat.”
Saeki closed the door behind him with one hand, balancing a tray that held breakfast with the other. The entire team had stayed over the previous night after deciding at the last minute on Friday to have a Rokkaku weekend together. Saeki had been the only one to volunteer his house, and with no objections, that's where they'd spent the night, staying up to play virtual tennis on his Wii.
“Hm?” asked said host, sitting on the floor.
“My hat,” repeated Ryou, scooting over to make room for Saeki on the borrowed futon he'd woken up on just a little over an hour before. “I can't find it.”
“Oh,” said Saeki, handing him a pair of chopsticks before picking up a bowl and beginning to eat. “Maybe someone took it with them,” he said through a mouthful of food.
“Finish chewing before you answer - I don't want your food spraying on me, “ said Ryou, grimacing when Saeki smiled at him. He reached for his own set of food, sitting cross-legged while shoving his chopsticks into the warm rice, angrily breaking apart the clumps. “I don't see why anyone would take it,” he grumbled, smashing his food a little more, determined to take out his annoyance on something. “Where is everyone, anyway?”
“Kentarou said something about going to the movies,” answered Saeki through another bite of food.
“Which one?”
“I think it was the sparkly vampire movie,” Saeki said, laughing at the look Ryou gave him. “I didn't think you'd be interested so I told them to go without us.”
“Ah.” Ryou took a bite and chewed thoughtfully before a thought struck him, making his mouth open in shock. “Did... Does that mean Bane went with them?”
Saeki laughed even harder, unable to respond beyond nodding his head a few times.
Poor Bane. Ryou felt bad for him, because Bane was the kind of person who probably didn't even know what the movie was about; but a small part of him looked forward to hearing Bane's review (assuming he made it through the whole movie without killing someone and being arrested): his very angry and possibly violence-inclusive review.
“So you don't want to go to the 4pm showing with me?” asked Saeki, his left eye gleaming.
“No,” said Ryou, taking another, angrier bite of his food. He liked movies sometimes, but lately nothing had really caught his eye as being worth seeing. There weren't that many good things during the holidays anyway, besides feel-good, family-oriented movies; and he'd had enough of those with his parents.
Letting out a satisfactory sigh, Saeki placed his bowl and chopsticks on the tray and leaned back on his hands, head turned to the side as he looked at Ryou. “Did you have any plans for today?”
“Just homework,” he answered, finishing his food and placing his bowl on top of Saeki's. “There isn't anything else open today, is there? The weather said it was supposed to snow in a few hours.”
“There are still plenty of things to do inside,” said Saeki, looking around his room. “Like video games.”
Ryou shrugged. He wasn't really interested.
“Or...”
The tone in his voice made Ryou look over, wondering what his teammate was about to say. He didn't spend a lot of time one-on-one with Saeki, and never knew where things were headed in their conversations; he had that same worrisome quality Seigaku's Fuji seemed to have, and it made sense to Ryou that they would be friends.
“Or what?” he finally prodded, annoyed at the silence.
Saeki chuckled. “I'm not sure it's the kind of activity you'd be into,” he said, still smiling though his eyes looked serious; no - calculating, corrected Ryou silently. Saeki had the same look that he had on the courts, when he measured the other person's reactions, noticing patterns before choosing which way to play. Ryou frowned, not liking that he was being studied.
“Try me,” he said, declaring it a victory when his words managed to wipe that smile-headed-towards-a-smirk off of Saeki's face. The victory didn't last long, though - not when Saeki leaned over, his shoulder meeting with Ryou's before his neck stretched and his lips parted and --
He blew against Ryou's neck. And waited.
“...This was your idea?” asked Ryou, annoyed; but beneath that, concerned. Saeki's closeness...well, it wasn't as if they hadn't stood or even sat next to each other, at the movies or on the tennis courts or busses; but for some reason, this was so much closer than close, even without actually touching. It made his whole body tense in a way he wasn't used to, and he didn't know what he was supposed to feel or do in a situation like this.
“I'm not impressed,” he forced out when Saeki didn't say anything, feeling the low exhalation of breath against his cheek before Saeki finally pulled back.
“Sorry,” said Saeki, not sounding it the least bit. He raised one hand, ruffling the top of Ryou's head and laughing when his hand was swatted away angrily. “I didn't think you'd be able to handle more than that.”
“...Handle?” Ryou blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Saeki raised himself up, sitting cross-legged, knees only a few millimeters away from Ryou's own - a fact of which Ryou was extremely conscious, given the closeness that still lingered from a few moments ago. Saeki, however, seemed to be over it and instead was looking at Ryou, his eyes sharp and focused.
And then he was close again, hands running just once through Ryou's long black hair, appreciatively admiring the shine and softness. “Why do you wear hats all the time, Ryou? You look better without them.”
“It's winter - I need to keep my head warm,” he said defensively, realizing he should probably mind the fingers in his hair; he was more than a little disconcerted that he didn't. The only other person to feather his hair like this was his mom, and it was strange to have Saeki do it, but also...nice in a way. It relaxed him. He tried to push this thought firmly out of his mind because it was a weird thing to think about another guy, and even weirder to think it about Saeki.
“You wear them in the summer, too,” Saeki pointed out.
“That's because I need to protect myself from the sun then,” said Ryou, waiting for Saeki's hands to drop away from his hair; but they remained stationary at the edges before Saeki tugged, just a little, making Ryou gasp and look at him in confusion.
“I like you better without it,” he said softly.
Ryou didn't have a comeback for that, other than staring. He'd gotten compliments on his hair before, but it was usually by girls asking for tips on how to take care of their own. His hair was a source of silent pride: not the fact of being able to play with longer hair, but to keep it looking healthy and well. He never bragged; it was for his own satisfaction that he took such good care of it.
But to have it noticed - especially by Saeki - made him feel a small surge of excitement as opposed to the usual satisfaction. He could tell he was blushing and he looked way. Saeki tugged again, forcing Ryou to look at him, their faces close together.
“Saeki-san,” said Ryou, his heartbeat speeding impossibly fast from regular to ohcrapohcrapohcrap in less than half a second.
“Yes?”
“This...um, really makes it seem like you're going to kiss me,” Ryou admitted. As he spoke, he noticed that his brain was divided between two hopes: one was for Saeki to laugh and pull away, and maybe ruffle his hair again before suggesting video games again; the second was for Saeki to lean in the rest of the way.
Wait - what am I thinking? Ryou panicked. This isn't natural. I must not be awake...yeah, this has got to be a dream. Saeki's weird, but he's never hit on me or anything, so obviously this isn't real. All I have to do is wake up, find my hat, and go see Twilight; and then everything will be normal. ...Well, maybe minus the Twilight part.
“I might,” said Saeki, drawing him out of his thoughts.
“...What?” asked Ryou, positive he hadn't heard right.
“Kiss you. Do you want me to?”
Ryou felt his world slowly crumbling. “I hadn't really...thought about it,” he confessed.
“Would you have a problem if I did?” asked Saeki.
Yes! screamed his brain. “I don't... I don't know,” said his lips. (He would have do some serious work on his mind-to-mouth communication later.)
Saeki didn't ask any more questions. Instead he waited, each second making Ryou's body more and more tense as he looked into the sharp blue eyes and wondered what was going to happen: what Saeki's reaction would be. Saeki meanwhile seemed to be searching for something in Ryou's eyes - assent? anger? trust? - before he leaned into him in one fluid motion, too fast to anticipate. His kiss was harsh, lips bumping against his, softening as he pulled away enough for their mouths to stay connected. When Saeki broke the kiss, Ryou noticed his cheeks were a very light shade of pink.
“I guess you didn't mind,” he said, looking down at Ryou's hand, which was clamped tightly around his arm.
Ryou followed his gaze, confused; when had he reached for Saeki? All he remembered was waiting and waiting and waiting until Saeki finally did something, which allowed Ryou to start breathing again. He was pretty sure he would have passed out if another fifteen seconds had gone by of just staring into each other's eyes.
It wasn't as if it had been romantic staring: Saeki was still treating this like a tennis game and Ryou couldn't help but treat it as something weird and awkward that his body liked but his brain could not comprehend. He didn't know what the rules were or what the next step was; so he waited, hoping Saeki would say something else.
He frowned when nothing else seemed to be forthcoming and sighed, letting go of the tanned arm.
“So that's it?” he asked.
Saeki finally let go of his hair, his eyes still concentrated on his face. “That's the second time you've said that, Ryou. Were you expecting something else?”
“...Not really,” answered Ryou, eyes avoidant. “You're the one who wanted to do this, anyway.”
“Why'd you go along with it?”
Shit, thought Ryou. He didn't like that question and had absolutely no desire to answer it. Silence seemed the best option, but he wasn't sure he could hold out that long; and leaving abruptly seemed rude. Plus, he would have to see Saeki back at school, and even if the subject was never brougt up again, Ryou knew that his brain which - was having such a hard time keeping up with all the things that had gone on - would wonder if there was supposed to have been more.
“I don't know,” he answered honestly. “I wanted to see what you were going to do.”
“That's all?”
Ryou shrugged, face darkening. “I don't know,” he said again. “This whole morning has been weird. I thought maybe I was dreaming, but I've never dreamed about kissing anyone before, and I don't think my subconscious would pick you as my first kiss - no offense,” he added in a rush. “I don't really get why you decided to ask me, or why everyone else left...or where my hat went. It's just...weird.” He shrugged again.
“Aren't you asking 'why did Saeki-san pick me?'”
Ryou's eyes went wide; he hadn't even thought about that. He was too overcome trying to figure out why this was happening, period - why it was happening to him and not someone else was further along in the thought process.
“You...you can't be preparing to give me a love confession right now...right?!”
Saeki laughed. “No, you can relax.” He smiled when Ryou let out a relieved sigh. “It's more like an interest confession.”
“...I don't think that exists,” said Ryou, his brow furrowing. He didn't like it when things didn't make sense.
“It probably doesn't,” agreed Saeki. “But that's what it is.” He reached up again, fingers running over the ends of the straight, black hair. “I actually wanted to see the sparkly vampire movie today - “ Ryou cringed - “ but I couldn't pass up this chance.”
“What chance?” asked Ryou.
Those were the last words spoken for several minutes. Saeki had closed the distance between their lips once more - his motions careful and practiced, lips touching gently for a few seconds before his tongue slowly pushed through the small opening created by Ryou's surprised gasp. His first attempts were sloppy and used too much tongue; but as Ryou opened his mouth a little more, allowing Saeki's tongue to move against his more easily, he could feel the tip brushing against the middle of his own, tasting and teasing and warm. Ryou hadn't kissed before either and all he could do was try to match Saeki's pace.
It was more difficult when Saeki became aggressive, not-so-slowly urging Ryou back onto the futon, silently guiding him to uncross his legs so that Saeki could straddle him. Not knowing where to put his hands, Ryou settled for Saeki's waist, holding him there - so that he wouldn't fall, maybe, or to make sure he didn't leave right as Ryou's body was beginning to respond.
The kiss earlier had stirred something in his chest: something faint, but warm, that made him feel wanted. The way Saeki was kissing him now made his whole body come alive, making Ryou acutely aware of which parts were touching and just how good it felt when Saeki's hips rolled down against him - seemingly by accident, but Ryou's hands tightened then, forcing the motion a second time, as if on instinct. But it didn't take instinct to know what felt good and what felt really good, and soon Ryou was somehow leading, hips pushing up against Saeki, the soft sounds of cotton jeans seeming loud in his ears, knowing what the friction was doing to his groin.
He didn't want to think about anything other than mouths and kissing and Saeki - but the kiss broke and Ryou was left looking up at light hair and dark eyes. Saeki's cheeks were definitely flushed and his lips looked redder and wetter than before.
“Why'd you stop?” asked Ryou, his voice embarrassingly breathy.
“Do you know where this is headed?” asked Saeki, sounding annoyingly calm.
Ryou looked at him warily. “I have a general idea,” he said. Why was he being treated like an idiot?
Saeki lifted up, one hand at the fly of Ryou's jeans, finger tapping lightly against the topmost button. “And you're okay with it?”
Blushing, Ryou took hold of his hand, sliding it palm-open over his erection. “That should be enough of an answer.”
“Everyone gets hard-ons,” replied Saeki, making Ryou gasp in shock at the bluntness of the reply. “It doesn't mean you act on them.”
“Right now it does,” grumbled Ryou. This was becoming frustrating; everything had been building up to a giant crescendo and now Saeki wanted to stop and talk and make sure he knew “where this was headed?”
“You seem angry,” said Saeki, lips curved in a small smile.
“Who wouldn't be when--” But whatever Ryou had been about to retort got pushed into a surprised hiss when Saeki's palm moved back and forth across his jeans, warming him even more. Ryou's hands tightened at Saeki's waist when he heard the zipper of his jeans tugged down, and felt that same palm warming him again - this time through his boxers. He glared at Saeki for taking his time but didn't say anything, worried that any more talking from him would stop Saeki altogether when he noticed the concentration lining the watchful face above.
This had finally gone from being another match to being nothing but this room, right now - this experience with Ryou, where both pairs of hands shook at the weight of one body on top of the other and what it felt like to have someone's hand there, other than your own. Saeki's hand didn't stop, even as he rolled onto his side, both he and Ryou's torsos on the futon while their legs stretched out onto the carpet; even as Ryou's hands finally slipped beneath his pants, stroking hesitantly. It wasn't a time to think or talk or do anything other than feel and be felt in return. Ryou felt his shirt being lifted, exposing his stomach; his eyes opening when one of Saeki's legs hooked halfway around his, drawing him near, their lower torsos touching. He felt lost at Saeki's knuckles, hard against the back of his hand, both stroking closely, cocks pushing against each other, skin rubbing together hotly.
Saeki came first, one leg clenching around Ryou, eyes closed and a low series of moans emanating from somewhere at the back of his throat. He spilled wet into Ryou's hand, thrusting quickly, seeking the most friction. Ryou tried his best to wait, to allow Saeki time to recover; but watching his teammate's face - the way it contorted and those sounds that did everything to enhance the effect - made his stomach tighten, and the sticky-wet whiteness spurting from Saeki's cock slowly coated his own length once, then twice; he lost count after that, pushing up against Saeki's hand and part of his own, teeth biting down hard into his lower lip. His eyes closed involuntarily, but he was glad for it; if Saeki was anything like him - which he usually wasn't, but Ryou was pretty sure they would have at least this much in common - then he would be staring Ryou through his orgasm just as attentively as Ryou had found himself watching Saeki.
His body shuddered for several strokes afterward; it was too much, but it wasn't enough, and Saeki finally had to pull Ryou's hand away. Their breathing was uneven and loud in the empty room. Ryou looked over, surprised to see a thin sheen of sweat on Saeki's face. He raised one hand to brush it away before realizing it was still partly coated in spills of white. His cheeks darkened in embarrassment as he lowered it, muttering something about needing tissues.
Saeki rolled to his right, fiddling around in a nearby backpack until he found a few. He handed half of them to Ryou, neither saying much as they cleaned up, re-zipped, and threw away all evidence of what had just happened. Ryou stood while Saeki sat, a hazy, satisfied look in his eyes that made Ryou feel strangely... The only word he could think of for it was eaten.
“Sit down,” said Saeki. “You're making me nervous by pacing like that.”
Ryou stopped mid-step; he didn't know he'd been pacing. Why was his body so prone to react without getting an okay from his consciousness first? Maybe that's why Saeki had asked if he really knew what was about to happen earlier.
He sat with a sigh, cross-legged while Saeki's own legs stretched outward. The distance felt awkward and Ryou shifted on the futon until his knees were touching Saeki's thigh; he looked away when Saeki smiled at him.
“I have your hat.”
“I figure you did,” said Ryou.
“Really? You didn't say anything.”
“Well, no one else but girls talk about my hair,” said Ryou. He shrugged. “It made sense that you'd take it when you started playing with it.”
“Oh.” Saeki smiled. “Do you want the hat back, then? I can go get it.”
Ryou subconsciously ran his fingers over the top of his head, then through his hair. He looked down at the even strands and at Saeki, who was watching him.
“...No,” he said. “Not right now.”
“Just for practices and games,” he clarified when Saeki looked confused.
“I can do that.” Saeki reached over with one hand, gathering Ryou's hair and palming it into a pseudo-ponytail. “Are you sure you don't want to leave it up? You look a little like a samurai that way.”
“...Saeki.”
“Hmm?”
Ryou glared at him. “There's only so much I'm going to say yes to.”
Saeki snorted, letting go of his hair. “Fine. But maybe you could try it during practice one time.”
“I'll...think about it,” said Ryou, hating himself for practically agreeing just after he'd said no.
“So? What do you want to do until they get back?” asked Saeki.
“Video games, I guess,” said Ryou. It felt a little surreal, talking with Saeki like this after what had just happened. If he'd been a girl, he was pretty sure he'd be having a conversation about buying rings or why Saeki was a bastard for not doing a proper love confession instead of this invented "interest confession" thing. But Ryou was tired, sated and a little hungry; playing video games was more than enough interaction right then.
Saeki made his way over to the television, clicking it on and hooking up the cables for his PS3. He looked over his shoulder: “You don't want to cuddle first?”
A pillow to the face was the only answer he received.
The question, however, remained on Ryou's mind through the afternoon as they played. He couldn't tell if Saeki had been joking or not, but as he was considering answering “yes” (since a pillow wasn't really a yes or no, so far as he was concerned), he heard the front door open; then shouting; then something that sounded like Davide's back being broken.
He knew it was Davide because Bane's voice immediately followed the loud crack! that was hard to mistake as anything but being bone-involved.
Saeki barely glanced up from the game when the door to his room opened, only asking: “Did you have a good time?”
“You,” said Bane, pointing at Saeki. “I'm never speaking to you again.”
Saeki laughed.
“Why was the acting so bad?” asked Itsuki. “And why did they were they glimmering?”
“Sparkly,” corrected Kentarou.
A groan sounded in the next room. “Where's Davide?” asked Ryou.
“Dead,” answered Bane, sitting on the couch behind him. “And if he's not, he'll wish he was when I go back out there.”
“...Ah,” said Ryou. “Did he make a lot of comments during the movie?”
“He wouldn't shut up,” said Bane, sulking. He pointed at the back of Saeki's head. “I mean it, Kojirou - you owe me for the tickets.”
Saeki smirked. “Everyone's, or just yours?”
“Just mine,” said Bane, taking off his jacket and shoving it into his lap. “No one else had to hear 'vampires suck - hahaha' for the entire movie.”
“I heard him, Bane-san!” said Kentarou brightly.
“Yeah, but you don't care,” said Bane. “So it doesn't count.”
“True!”
Ryou turned back to the video game, ignoring Itsuki's questions about why - why didn't it count, why Bane didn't like vampires, why was that fist aiming straight for his face--
“Looks like we missed out,” said Saeki.
“I don't call that missing out,” said Ryou. “Somebody should probably go check on Davide - I haven't heard a pun from him in a few minutes now.”
A hand at his knee stopped him. “Bane will get him.” Saeki's eyes were still rooted to the screen, but it felt as if he were watching Ryou with the rest of his body.
Ryou stilled. “He might be dead by then,” he said, watching Saeki as he played; Ryou's player had died in the brief interlude of Bane's tirade when he'd looked away for too long. “You could have paused the game, you know,” he said.
“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to have you watch me.”
Ryou looked pointedly at the screen, annoyed when Saeki seemed to be able to tell that he'd looked away, emitting a small chuckle in response.
“I think I hate you a little bit,” muttered Ryou.
Saeki reached over, resting his wrist against Ryou's knee as he continued to play; the movement outwardly small and unnoticeable, but it was all Ryou could focus on.
“That's okay,” he said, looking at Ryou briefly before turning back to the game. “I wouldn't have it another way.”
“That's not romantic at all.”
“I told you it wasn't a love confession,” said Saeki, skipping through the cut scenes.
“An interest confession doesn't make sense.”
“Sure it does.” Saeki waited for the game to load, switching his position so that he was lying on the floor, head resting on Ryou's thigh.
“Isn't it weird to play like that?” asked Ryou.
“If it's for a little while, it's okay,” answered Saeki.
“Why do that to your neck?”
Saeki turned onto his back slightly so that he could look up at Ryou. His eyes were amused, yet underlined with an honest seriousness. “Is it really that hard to figure out?”
“...You wanted an excuse to put your head in my lap,” said Ryou after a while, coming up with the only reason he could think of.
“Bingo,” said Saeki, turning back to the game.
Ryou sighed. “I can't tell if you're a pervert or trying to be sweet.”
“It's the second one,” said Saeki.
“Well... I'm still not putting my hair up,” said Ryou, not sure if he believed Saeki's answer or not.
When Saeki didn't respond, he looked down; worried. His hand hovered, wondering if he should try poking Saeki or tapping him on the shoulder or even brushing his hands through his hair.
“Hey, Ryou.”
He lowered his hand on top of Saeki's head, surprised at how fine it was. “What?”
“Stay over Sunday night.”
“Why?”
Saeki continued playing for a few seconds before answering. “I'll make you dinner.”
Ryou frowned. “I can eat at home.”
Saeki laughed shallowly. “If you do that, it won't be a date.”
“...Oh.” Ryou was excessively thankful in that moment that he was facing forward and not towards the back, where Itsuki had just come to and Kentarou was going over his favourite scenes from the movie in great detail, earning him frustrated groans from Bane.
“Well...” he said. “Okay, I guess.”
“That wasn't romantic either,” said Saeki.
“Shut up and play your game,” retorted Ryou, watching the smile barely visible in his lap, his hair resting partway on Saeki's shoulder: dark contrasting against white.
By: worblehat
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Ryou/Saeki
Rating: R
Summary: Saeki admires Ryou's hair, a confession of sorts takes place, and Ryou ends up a little flustered.
Notes: Written for feuillu as part of the last year of santa_smex. Self-beta'd so there may be some errors - feel free to point them out! Also, I'm not sure how IC this is but I had fun writing it so...um. Yeah, ahaha. :D
Word Count: 4,492
“I'm missing my hat.”
Saeki closed the door behind him with one hand, balancing a tray that held breakfast with the other. The entire team had stayed over the previous night after deciding at the last minute on Friday to have a Rokkaku weekend together. Saeki had been the only one to volunteer his house, and with no objections, that's where they'd spent the night, staying up to play virtual tennis on his Wii.
“Hm?” asked said host, sitting on the floor.
“My hat,” repeated Ryou, scooting over to make room for Saeki on the borrowed futon he'd woken up on just a little over an hour before. “I can't find it.”
“Oh,” said Saeki, handing him a pair of chopsticks before picking up a bowl and beginning to eat. “Maybe someone took it with them,” he said through a mouthful of food.
“Finish chewing before you answer - I don't want your food spraying on me, “ said Ryou, grimacing when Saeki smiled at him. He reached for his own set of food, sitting cross-legged while shoving his chopsticks into the warm rice, angrily breaking apart the clumps. “I don't see why anyone would take it,” he grumbled, smashing his food a little more, determined to take out his annoyance on something. “Where is everyone, anyway?”
“Kentarou said something about going to the movies,” answered Saeki through another bite of food.
“Which one?”
“I think it was the sparkly vampire movie,” Saeki said, laughing at the look Ryou gave him. “I didn't think you'd be interested so I told them to go without us.”
“Ah.” Ryou took a bite and chewed thoughtfully before a thought struck him, making his mouth open in shock. “Did... Does that mean Bane went with them?”
Saeki laughed even harder, unable to respond beyond nodding his head a few times.
Poor Bane. Ryou felt bad for him, because Bane was the kind of person who probably didn't even know what the movie was about; but a small part of him looked forward to hearing Bane's review (assuming he made it through the whole movie without killing someone and being arrested): his very angry and possibly violence-inclusive review.
“So you don't want to go to the 4pm showing with me?” asked Saeki, his left eye gleaming.
“No,” said Ryou, taking another, angrier bite of his food. He liked movies sometimes, but lately nothing had really caught his eye as being worth seeing. There weren't that many good things during the holidays anyway, besides feel-good, family-oriented movies; and he'd had enough of those with his parents.
Letting out a satisfactory sigh, Saeki placed his bowl and chopsticks on the tray and leaned back on his hands, head turned to the side as he looked at Ryou. “Did you have any plans for today?”
“Just homework,” he answered, finishing his food and placing his bowl on top of Saeki's. “There isn't anything else open today, is there? The weather said it was supposed to snow in a few hours.”
“There are still plenty of things to do inside,” said Saeki, looking around his room. “Like video games.”
Ryou shrugged. He wasn't really interested.
“Or...”
The tone in his voice made Ryou look over, wondering what his teammate was about to say. He didn't spend a lot of time one-on-one with Saeki, and never knew where things were headed in their conversations; he had that same worrisome quality Seigaku's Fuji seemed to have, and it made sense to Ryou that they would be friends.
“Or what?” he finally prodded, annoyed at the silence.
Saeki chuckled. “I'm not sure it's the kind of activity you'd be into,” he said, still smiling though his eyes looked serious; no - calculating, corrected Ryou silently. Saeki had the same look that he had on the courts, when he measured the other person's reactions, noticing patterns before choosing which way to play. Ryou frowned, not liking that he was being studied.
“Try me,” he said, declaring it a victory when his words managed to wipe that smile-headed-towards-a-smirk off of Saeki's face. The victory didn't last long, though - not when Saeki leaned over, his shoulder meeting with Ryou's before his neck stretched and his lips parted and --
He blew against Ryou's neck. And waited.
“...This was your idea?” asked Ryou, annoyed; but beneath that, concerned. Saeki's closeness...well, it wasn't as if they hadn't stood or even sat next to each other, at the movies or on the tennis courts or busses; but for some reason, this was so much closer than close, even without actually touching. It made his whole body tense in a way he wasn't used to, and he didn't know what he was supposed to feel or do in a situation like this.
“I'm not impressed,” he forced out when Saeki didn't say anything, feeling the low exhalation of breath against his cheek before Saeki finally pulled back.
“Sorry,” said Saeki, not sounding it the least bit. He raised one hand, ruffling the top of Ryou's head and laughing when his hand was swatted away angrily. “I didn't think you'd be able to handle more than that.”
“...Handle?” Ryou blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Saeki raised himself up, sitting cross-legged, knees only a few millimeters away from Ryou's own - a fact of which Ryou was extremely conscious, given the closeness that still lingered from a few moments ago. Saeki, however, seemed to be over it and instead was looking at Ryou, his eyes sharp and focused.
And then he was close again, hands running just once through Ryou's long black hair, appreciatively admiring the shine and softness. “Why do you wear hats all the time, Ryou? You look better without them.”
“It's winter - I need to keep my head warm,” he said defensively, realizing he should probably mind the fingers in his hair; he was more than a little disconcerted that he didn't. The only other person to feather his hair like this was his mom, and it was strange to have Saeki do it, but also...nice in a way. It relaxed him. He tried to push this thought firmly out of his mind because it was a weird thing to think about another guy, and even weirder to think it about Saeki.
“You wear them in the summer, too,” Saeki pointed out.
“That's because I need to protect myself from the sun then,” said Ryou, waiting for Saeki's hands to drop away from his hair; but they remained stationary at the edges before Saeki tugged, just a little, making Ryou gasp and look at him in confusion.
“I like you better without it,” he said softly.
Ryou didn't have a comeback for that, other than staring. He'd gotten compliments on his hair before, but it was usually by girls asking for tips on how to take care of their own. His hair was a source of silent pride: not the fact of being able to play with longer hair, but to keep it looking healthy and well. He never bragged; it was for his own satisfaction that he took such good care of it.
But to have it noticed - especially by Saeki - made him feel a small surge of excitement as opposed to the usual satisfaction. He could tell he was blushing and he looked way. Saeki tugged again, forcing Ryou to look at him, their faces close together.
“Saeki-san,” said Ryou, his heartbeat speeding impossibly fast from regular to ohcrapohcrapohcrap in less than half a second.
“Yes?”
“This...um, really makes it seem like you're going to kiss me,” Ryou admitted. As he spoke, he noticed that his brain was divided between two hopes: one was for Saeki to laugh and pull away, and maybe ruffle his hair again before suggesting video games again; the second was for Saeki to lean in the rest of the way.
Wait - what am I thinking? Ryou panicked. This isn't natural. I must not be awake...yeah, this has got to be a dream. Saeki's weird, but he's never hit on me or anything, so obviously this isn't real. All I have to do is wake up, find my hat, and go see Twilight; and then everything will be normal. ...Well, maybe minus the Twilight part.
“I might,” said Saeki, drawing him out of his thoughts.
“...What?” asked Ryou, positive he hadn't heard right.
“Kiss you. Do you want me to?”
Ryou felt his world slowly crumbling. “I hadn't really...thought about it,” he confessed.
“Would you have a problem if I did?” asked Saeki.
Yes! screamed his brain. “I don't... I don't know,” said his lips. (He would have do some serious work on his mind-to-mouth communication later.)
Saeki didn't ask any more questions. Instead he waited, each second making Ryou's body more and more tense as he looked into the sharp blue eyes and wondered what was going to happen: what Saeki's reaction would be. Saeki meanwhile seemed to be searching for something in Ryou's eyes - assent? anger? trust? - before he leaned into him in one fluid motion, too fast to anticipate. His kiss was harsh, lips bumping against his, softening as he pulled away enough for their mouths to stay connected. When Saeki broke the kiss, Ryou noticed his cheeks were a very light shade of pink.
“I guess you didn't mind,” he said, looking down at Ryou's hand, which was clamped tightly around his arm.
Ryou followed his gaze, confused; when had he reached for Saeki? All he remembered was waiting and waiting and waiting until Saeki finally did something, which allowed Ryou to start breathing again. He was pretty sure he would have passed out if another fifteen seconds had gone by of just staring into each other's eyes.
It wasn't as if it had been romantic staring: Saeki was still treating this like a tennis game and Ryou couldn't help but treat it as something weird and awkward that his body liked but his brain could not comprehend. He didn't know what the rules were or what the next step was; so he waited, hoping Saeki would say something else.
He frowned when nothing else seemed to be forthcoming and sighed, letting go of the tanned arm.
“So that's it?” he asked.
Saeki finally let go of his hair, his eyes still concentrated on his face. “That's the second time you've said that, Ryou. Were you expecting something else?”
“...Not really,” answered Ryou, eyes avoidant. “You're the one who wanted to do this, anyway.”
“Why'd you go along with it?”
Shit, thought Ryou. He didn't like that question and had absolutely no desire to answer it. Silence seemed the best option, but he wasn't sure he could hold out that long; and leaving abruptly seemed rude. Plus, he would have to see Saeki back at school, and even if the subject was never brougt up again, Ryou knew that his brain which - was having such a hard time keeping up with all the things that had gone on - would wonder if there was supposed to have been more.
“I don't know,” he answered honestly. “I wanted to see what you were going to do.”
“That's all?”
Ryou shrugged, face darkening. “I don't know,” he said again. “This whole morning has been weird. I thought maybe I was dreaming, but I've never dreamed about kissing anyone before, and I don't think my subconscious would pick you as my first kiss - no offense,” he added in a rush. “I don't really get why you decided to ask me, or why everyone else left...or where my hat went. It's just...weird.” He shrugged again.
“Aren't you asking 'why did Saeki-san pick me?'”
Ryou's eyes went wide; he hadn't even thought about that. He was too overcome trying to figure out why this was happening, period - why it was happening to him and not someone else was further along in the thought process.
“You...you can't be preparing to give me a love confession right now...right?!”
Saeki laughed. “No, you can relax.” He smiled when Ryou let out a relieved sigh. “It's more like an interest confession.”
“...I don't think that exists,” said Ryou, his brow furrowing. He didn't like it when things didn't make sense.
“It probably doesn't,” agreed Saeki. “But that's what it is.” He reached up again, fingers running over the ends of the straight, black hair. “I actually wanted to see the sparkly vampire movie today - “ Ryou cringed - “ but I couldn't pass up this chance.”
“What chance?” asked Ryou.
Those were the last words spoken for several minutes. Saeki had closed the distance between their lips once more - his motions careful and practiced, lips touching gently for a few seconds before his tongue slowly pushed through the small opening created by Ryou's surprised gasp. His first attempts were sloppy and used too much tongue; but as Ryou opened his mouth a little more, allowing Saeki's tongue to move against his more easily, he could feel the tip brushing against the middle of his own, tasting and teasing and warm. Ryou hadn't kissed before either and all he could do was try to match Saeki's pace.
It was more difficult when Saeki became aggressive, not-so-slowly urging Ryou back onto the futon, silently guiding him to uncross his legs so that Saeki could straddle him. Not knowing where to put his hands, Ryou settled for Saeki's waist, holding him there - so that he wouldn't fall, maybe, or to make sure he didn't leave right as Ryou's body was beginning to respond.
The kiss earlier had stirred something in his chest: something faint, but warm, that made him feel wanted. The way Saeki was kissing him now made his whole body come alive, making Ryou acutely aware of which parts were touching and just how good it felt when Saeki's hips rolled down against him - seemingly by accident, but Ryou's hands tightened then, forcing the motion a second time, as if on instinct. But it didn't take instinct to know what felt good and what felt really good, and soon Ryou was somehow leading, hips pushing up against Saeki, the soft sounds of cotton jeans seeming loud in his ears, knowing what the friction was doing to his groin.
He didn't want to think about anything other than mouths and kissing and Saeki - but the kiss broke and Ryou was left looking up at light hair and dark eyes. Saeki's cheeks were definitely flushed and his lips looked redder and wetter than before.
“Why'd you stop?” asked Ryou, his voice embarrassingly breathy.
“Do you know where this is headed?” asked Saeki, sounding annoyingly calm.
Ryou looked at him warily. “I have a general idea,” he said. Why was he being treated like an idiot?
Saeki lifted up, one hand at the fly of Ryou's jeans, finger tapping lightly against the topmost button. “And you're okay with it?”
Blushing, Ryou took hold of his hand, sliding it palm-open over his erection. “That should be enough of an answer.”
“Everyone gets hard-ons,” replied Saeki, making Ryou gasp in shock at the bluntness of the reply. “It doesn't mean you act on them.”
“Right now it does,” grumbled Ryou. This was becoming frustrating; everything had been building up to a giant crescendo and now Saeki wanted to stop and talk and make sure he knew “where this was headed?”
“You seem angry,” said Saeki, lips curved in a small smile.
“Who wouldn't be when--” But whatever Ryou had been about to retort got pushed into a surprised hiss when Saeki's palm moved back and forth across his jeans, warming him even more. Ryou's hands tightened at Saeki's waist when he heard the zipper of his jeans tugged down, and felt that same palm warming him again - this time through his boxers. He glared at Saeki for taking his time but didn't say anything, worried that any more talking from him would stop Saeki altogether when he noticed the concentration lining the watchful face above.
This had finally gone from being another match to being nothing but this room, right now - this experience with Ryou, where both pairs of hands shook at the weight of one body on top of the other and what it felt like to have someone's hand there, other than your own. Saeki's hand didn't stop, even as he rolled onto his side, both he and Ryou's torsos on the futon while their legs stretched out onto the carpet; even as Ryou's hands finally slipped beneath his pants, stroking hesitantly. It wasn't a time to think or talk or do anything other than feel and be felt in return. Ryou felt his shirt being lifted, exposing his stomach; his eyes opening when one of Saeki's legs hooked halfway around his, drawing him near, their lower torsos touching. He felt lost at Saeki's knuckles, hard against the back of his hand, both stroking closely, cocks pushing against each other, skin rubbing together hotly.
Saeki came first, one leg clenching around Ryou, eyes closed and a low series of moans emanating from somewhere at the back of his throat. He spilled wet into Ryou's hand, thrusting quickly, seeking the most friction. Ryou tried his best to wait, to allow Saeki time to recover; but watching his teammate's face - the way it contorted and those sounds that did everything to enhance the effect - made his stomach tighten, and the sticky-wet whiteness spurting from Saeki's cock slowly coated his own length once, then twice; he lost count after that, pushing up against Saeki's hand and part of his own, teeth biting down hard into his lower lip. His eyes closed involuntarily, but he was glad for it; if Saeki was anything like him - which he usually wasn't, but Ryou was pretty sure they would have at least this much in common - then he would be staring Ryou through his orgasm just as attentively as Ryou had found himself watching Saeki.
His body shuddered for several strokes afterward; it was too much, but it wasn't enough, and Saeki finally had to pull Ryou's hand away. Their breathing was uneven and loud in the empty room. Ryou looked over, surprised to see a thin sheen of sweat on Saeki's face. He raised one hand to brush it away before realizing it was still partly coated in spills of white. His cheeks darkened in embarrassment as he lowered it, muttering something about needing tissues.
Saeki rolled to his right, fiddling around in a nearby backpack until he found a few. He handed half of them to Ryou, neither saying much as they cleaned up, re-zipped, and threw away all evidence of what had just happened. Ryou stood while Saeki sat, a hazy, satisfied look in his eyes that made Ryou feel strangely... The only word he could think of for it was eaten.
“Sit down,” said Saeki. “You're making me nervous by pacing like that.”
Ryou stopped mid-step; he didn't know he'd been pacing. Why was his body so prone to react without getting an okay from his consciousness first? Maybe that's why Saeki had asked if he really knew what was about to happen earlier.
He sat with a sigh, cross-legged while Saeki's own legs stretched outward. The distance felt awkward and Ryou shifted on the futon until his knees were touching Saeki's thigh; he looked away when Saeki smiled at him.
“I have your hat.”
“I figure you did,” said Ryou.
“Really? You didn't say anything.”
“Well, no one else but girls talk about my hair,” said Ryou. He shrugged. “It made sense that you'd take it when you started playing with it.”
“Oh.” Saeki smiled. “Do you want the hat back, then? I can go get it.”
Ryou subconsciously ran his fingers over the top of his head, then through his hair. He looked down at the even strands and at Saeki, who was watching him.
“...No,” he said. “Not right now.”
“Just for practices and games,” he clarified when Saeki looked confused.
“I can do that.” Saeki reached over with one hand, gathering Ryou's hair and palming it into a pseudo-ponytail. “Are you sure you don't want to leave it up? You look a little like a samurai that way.”
“...Saeki.”
“Hmm?”
Ryou glared at him. “There's only so much I'm going to say yes to.”
Saeki snorted, letting go of his hair. “Fine. But maybe you could try it during practice one time.”
“I'll...think about it,” said Ryou, hating himself for practically agreeing just after he'd said no.
“So? What do you want to do until they get back?” asked Saeki.
“Video games, I guess,” said Ryou. It felt a little surreal, talking with Saeki like this after what had just happened. If he'd been a girl, he was pretty sure he'd be having a conversation about buying rings or why Saeki was a bastard for not doing a proper love confession instead of this invented "interest confession" thing. But Ryou was tired, sated and a little hungry; playing video games was more than enough interaction right then.
Saeki made his way over to the television, clicking it on and hooking up the cables for his PS3. He looked over his shoulder: “You don't want to cuddle first?”
A pillow to the face was the only answer he received.
The question, however, remained on Ryou's mind through the afternoon as they played. He couldn't tell if Saeki had been joking or not, but as he was considering answering “yes” (since a pillow wasn't really a yes or no, so far as he was concerned), he heard the front door open; then shouting; then something that sounded like Davide's back being broken.
He knew it was Davide because Bane's voice immediately followed the loud crack! that was hard to mistake as anything but being bone-involved.
Saeki barely glanced up from the game when the door to his room opened, only asking: “Did you have a good time?”
“You,” said Bane, pointing at Saeki. “I'm never speaking to you again.”
Saeki laughed.
“Why was the acting so bad?” asked Itsuki. “And why did they were they glimmering?”
“Sparkly,” corrected Kentarou.
A groan sounded in the next room. “Where's Davide?” asked Ryou.
“Dead,” answered Bane, sitting on the couch behind him. “And if he's not, he'll wish he was when I go back out there.”
“...Ah,” said Ryou. “Did he make a lot of comments during the movie?”
“He wouldn't shut up,” said Bane, sulking. He pointed at the back of Saeki's head. “I mean it, Kojirou - you owe me for the tickets.”
Saeki smirked. “Everyone's, or just yours?”
“Just mine,” said Bane, taking off his jacket and shoving it into his lap. “No one else had to hear 'vampires suck - hahaha' for the entire movie.”
“I heard him, Bane-san!” said Kentarou brightly.
“Yeah, but you don't care,” said Bane. “So it doesn't count.”
“True!”
Ryou turned back to the video game, ignoring Itsuki's questions about why - why didn't it count, why Bane didn't like vampires, why was that fist aiming straight for his face--
“Looks like we missed out,” said Saeki.
“I don't call that missing out,” said Ryou. “Somebody should probably go check on Davide - I haven't heard a pun from him in a few minutes now.”
A hand at his knee stopped him. “Bane will get him.” Saeki's eyes were still rooted to the screen, but it felt as if he were watching Ryou with the rest of his body.
Ryou stilled. “He might be dead by then,” he said, watching Saeki as he played; Ryou's player had died in the brief interlude of Bane's tirade when he'd looked away for too long. “You could have paused the game, you know,” he said.
“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to have you watch me.”
Ryou looked pointedly at the screen, annoyed when Saeki seemed to be able to tell that he'd looked away, emitting a small chuckle in response.
“I think I hate you a little bit,” muttered Ryou.
Saeki reached over, resting his wrist against Ryou's knee as he continued to play; the movement outwardly small and unnoticeable, but it was all Ryou could focus on.
“That's okay,” he said, looking at Ryou briefly before turning back to the game. “I wouldn't have it another way.”
“That's not romantic at all.”
“I told you it wasn't a love confession,” said Saeki, skipping through the cut scenes.
“An interest confession doesn't make sense.”
“Sure it does.” Saeki waited for the game to load, switching his position so that he was lying on the floor, head resting on Ryou's thigh.
“Isn't it weird to play like that?” asked Ryou.
“If it's for a little while, it's okay,” answered Saeki.
“Why do that to your neck?”
Saeki turned onto his back slightly so that he could look up at Ryou. His eyes were amused, yet underlined with an honest seriousness. “Is it really that hard to figure out?”
“...You wanted an excuse to put your head in my lap,” said Ryou after a while, coming up with the only reason he could think of.
“Bingo,” said Saeki, turning back to the game.
Ryou sighed. “I can't tell if you're a pervert or trying to be sweet.”
“It's the second one,” said Saeki.
“Well... I'm still not putting my hair up,” said Ryou, not sure if he believed Saeki's answer or not.
When Saeki didn't respond, he looked down; worried. His hand hovered, wondering if he should try poking Saeki or tapping him on the shoulder or even brushing his hands through his hair.
“Hey, Ryou.”
He lowered his hand on top of Saeki's head, surprised at how fine it was. “What?”
“Stay over Sunday night.”
“Why?”
Saeki continued playing for a few seconds before answering. “I'll make you dinner.”
Ryou frowned. “I can eat at home.”
Saeki laughed shallowly. “If you do that, it won't be a date.”
“...Oh.” Ryou was excessively thankful in that moment that he was facing forward and not towards the back, where Itsuki had just come to and Kentarou was going over his favourite scenes from the movie in great detail, earning him frustrated groans from Bane.
“Well...” he said. “Okay, I guess.”
“That wasn't romantic either,” said Saeki.
“Shut up and play your game,” retorted Ryou, watching the smile barely visible in his lap, his hair resting partway on Saeki's shoulder: dark contrasting against white.