[MERRY CHRISTMAS! post #10]
Cutting it close today, but today's is rather long, so hopefully that makes up for it! This time, the fic o' the day is for reddwarfer, which means it is, of course, Tezuka/Fuji. And because it's eaten my brain, this one's also Sasuga-verse. Which is appropriate, because the fic was originally from one of Leila's prompts anyway. The handcuffs were all her. XD
So without further ado!
Title: Points of Contention
Author: Anj (anjenue)
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji
Rating: NC-17 (very much so)
Word Count: 4446
Summary: Fuji thinks it's payback time. Tezuka begs to differ.
A/N: Sasuga Tezuka companion piece, set a few months afterward. Merry belated Christmas to reddwarfer!!!
Tezuka wasn't a terribly heavy sleeper.
There was no one particular reason for this fact. Over the years, he'd inadvertently trained himself not to be, between the early-morning wake ups, the need to be sharp, and quickly, for morning tennis practice, the threat of Inui coming to take data on him while his guard was down.... Any number of things had contributed to Tezuka's tendency to sleep light, and university had only compounded that habit until really, just the slightest hint of movement would wake him up.
So when he stirred awake at some indeterminate hour only to find his arms stretched over his head and silk-wrapped metal circling his wrists, it was a real token of a) how comfortable he'd been in this particular bed, with this particular person, and b) how thoroughly Fuji had tired him out the night before.
Of course, that didn't change the fact that he was now handcuffed to Fuji's bed.
He blinked, struggling to focus as much as he could without his glasses, and glanced about the room in search of the usual willowy body that shared it with him. The sunlight trickling through the curtains told him it was still early, perhaps six thirty or so, and sliding his leg to the side made it clear that Fuji hadn't been gone too long, but there was no sign of him, and Tezuka wasn't certain whether to be annoyed or resigned. It didn't seem to matter how long they spent together, "getting to know each other better" - Fuji had become no less predictable, which was the only predictable thing about him.
He cleared his throat silently, and then gave the cuffs an experimental tug. Which did absolutely nothing, of course, as they were metal and he was not, despite a few certain underclassmen's insistence, Superman. It did give him a sense of how much mobility he had, and how much force it would take to shift his position on the bed, both of which he knew he would need. It didn't take genius to know why he was handcuffed to the bed in the first place.
'Good morning,' murmured a cheery voice from the door, and Tezuka lifted his head, squinting down the length of his own body. Fuji was smiling, he could tell that much, but his eyes were also open, and he was giving Tezuka that Look that said Tezuka was in danger of being pounced without any further notice.
Not, he noted with a mixture of embarrassment and the wry amusement that could only come from weeks of sleeping with Fuji Syuusuke, that his body seemed to have any problems with this idea - part of his difficulty in making out Fuji's expression came from the fact that the tented blanket was obscuring his line of sight.
'I see you like being handcuffed as much as you like doing the handcuffing. That's interesting. I've been wondering about that for a while.'
'Have you.' Tezuka's voice was low, sleep-ragged and thick, and the arousal already running rampant through his system was doing little to help. 'Is that why the...experiment?'
Fuji laughed, moving forward and out of Tezuka's direct line of sight, so Tezuka had to track him with his eyes. 'Not entirely,' he said, still cheerful, though Tezuka had definitely been around him long enough to catch the low tremble of arousal beneath the seemingly carefree tone. 'That was part of it, but mostly....'
He came to a stop beside the bed, body just about even with the bottom of Tezuka's ribcage, and it made for an awkward angle from which to see his face, but did give Tezuka a very clear view of the very impressive tent in Fuji's pajama pants.
'Mostly I just thought it was time to return the favour.'
Before Tezuka had time to process that remark, Fuji was on top of him, swinging one long leg up onto the mattress, then the other, and pinning Tezuka down with his hips. Weeks of practise payed off as their hips lined up just right on the first try, and Fuji hissed, settling his weight fully atop Tezuka and curving his back over so his hair curtained their faces. Tezuka groaned, moving to catch hold of Fuji's hips, to feel the sharp points of hipbones under his thumbs, and then groaned again when he remembered he couldn't, his instinctive movement only making him tug hard at his cuffs and prompting a faint protest from his wrists.
Fuji smiled, blue eyes wide and dark as he leaned forward until their noses just touched. 'You see?' he breathed, warm and dark and inviting. 'It's frustrating, isn't it? Not being able to touch?' His smile widened slowly, a giant cat playing with its food, and he gave a slow, liquid blink. 'It's worth it, believe me, but it does take a while to...get used to.'
'Mm,' Tezuka murmured, the sound coming out as more of a choked moan. 'I...can imagine distraction does quite a good job of easing the transition.' He gave a small, returning smile of his own, and then suddenly pushed off the mattress, throwing Fuji off-balance with a twist of his hips and taking immediate advantage of Fuji's compromised position to claim his mouth in a fierce, biting kiss. Never let it be said again that Tezuka Kunimitsu didn't take what he wanted when he wanted it - he was slashing that tendency to shreds right this moment, as his tongue pushed hard and demanding into Fuji's mouth and his hips shifted beneath Fuji's just enough to drag their pricks against each other with the most maddeningly delicious friction, despite the two thin layers of fabric that separated them.
Fuji groaned, flattening his body against Tezuka's and slipping his hands beneath Tezuka's shoulderblades, clutching him tightly as he arched into him without hesitation, and Tezuka may have been the one handcuffed but that wasn't going to stop him from driving Fuji out of his mind. By now, he knew exactly how to kiss him, where to flick his tongue, how slowly and how deliberately to shift his hips in order to keep Fuji just on this side of incoherent need. Fuji dissolved beneath his non-touches, gasping and rubbing against him like a giant cat who'd forgotten its food in favour of really good sex, and Tezuka allowed himself the slightest smirk between panting breaths, meeting Fuji's movements with his own, snapping his hips up in perfect counterpoint to the downward jerks of Fuji's until they were all but fucking each other through the fabric, which was completely a desperately-horny-teenager thing to do but it didn't matter because it felt so fucking good that all Tezuka cared about was just--
'Stop!'
Fuji tore his mouth away from Tezuka's, gasping for breath, and Tezuka very nearly whimpered as Fuji lifted his hips up and back and out of reach, arching up uselessly and then slumping back against the mattress in utter frustration when the movement proved useful. He blinked balefully up at Fuji, fighting to focus through the arousal, and took several deep breaths before attempting to speak.
'What did you stop for?'
Fuji panted, licking his lips, and then stared at Tezuka sharply, eyes narrowed in displeasure - though the effect was rather diminished since Fuji looked completely debauched and just as desperate to finish what they started as Tezuka felt.
'You're the one handcuffed to the bed,' Fuji said, a bit peevishly. 'You're not supposed to take over.'
'What did we say about "supposed to"?' Tezuka said, tone laden with amused irony.
Fuji blinked, and then made a face which was somewhere between utter pleasure at the fact that Tezuka was joking about something that had, until very recently, been a sore point for him, and frustration at having his own words thrown back in his face. 'You know what I mean.'
Tezuka shook his head. 'Can't say that I do,' he replied honestly. 'I thought we were doing rather well.'
'No,' Fuji bit out. 'Well. Yes, we were, but....'
He ran his fingers through his messy hair, sitting back on Tezuka's thighs as he tried visibly to organise his thoughts. Tezuka watched him with mingled fondness, want, and impatience, and, after a moment, mischievously flexed his quadriceps, making Fuji yelp and twitch violently before pinning Tezuka with as scathing a look as someone suffering from severe arousal could manage.
'You've gotten awfully cocky,' he said in a warning tone.
Tezuka smiled, unrepentant, and flexed his muscles again, this time starting at the knee and working upward - it was amazing, really, what happy side effects years of sports training could have. Fuji twitched again, the muscles of his jaw working, though Tezuka could see enough to catch the way Fuji's eyes darkened even further as he followed the ripple of muscles up Tezuka's belly above the crease of the sheet. He knew Fuji wasn't actually upset, or frustrated, or any of those things - they played games with each other all the time, and while they may have felt fierce competitiveness on the courts, off it, they both won no matter what happened, so their contention was merely for fun, and the "win" simply a formality that allowed the winner to (playfully) lord it over the loser until such time as he chose to challenge the winner in an attempt to turn the tables.
Whatever the system, it resulted in hours and hours and hours of very enjoyable sex, so Tezuka didn't really care either way.
Then again, he very much did enjoy winning.
'I'm serious,' Fuji stressed, trying to sound stern, and only managing it a little bit. 'I mean, don't get me wrong - I'm glad we've gotten past the initial...hesitation, because you're far more fun when you don't think twice about fucking me into the bed.' He paused, waiting for a reaction, and when he didn't get one, he exhaled on a sharp breath.
'However, I think you've become...just a little bit too...well, I don't want to say you're jaded, but you're not quite so easy to impress.'
'Oh, I don't know about that,' Tezuka murmured, gaze skating across Fuji's face and down the bared lines of his chest. 'I'm pretty impressed right now, in case you hadn't noticed.'
'Maybe,' Fuji murmured, 'but I thought...maybe it was time to try something new.'
Tezuka blinked, then arched his back, skin sliding against sheets as he presented his chest, and body thrilling with gratification as he heard Fuji's breath hitch. 'Is that why the handcuffs then?'
'Sort of.' Fuji smiled, his eyes disappearing behind long-lashed lids. 'I did say I owed you for the first time. But since you're so...open to new things in a way you certainly weren't then, I thought I would introduce you to something a little...different.'
Fuji's smile turned positively wicked, and before Tezuka had a chance to ask, Fuji shifted, yanking the sheets off Tezuka's body, and settled atop him again, tailbone pressed against the bump of Tezuka's left knee. His cock pressed hot and firm against Tezuka's thigh, and Tezuka's mouth watered a bit, fingers twitching from a desire to touch and hips shifting restlessly against the sheets. His cock ached for attention, the warm drizzle of pre-come against his belly turning chill in the cool morning air, but Fuji wasn't yielding, and he simply eyed Tezuka until Tezuka stopped moving and lay still, waiting.
'Good,' Fuji murmured, regarding Tezuka with slitted, thoughtful eyes. 'Now here's how it's going to work. You are going to lie still, and I am going to suck your cock.'
A groan strangled in Tezuka's throat, and he bit it off by sinking his teeth into his tongue.
Fuji's smile ratcheted up a notch. 'You can make all the noise you like, but you are not allowed to move. If you move, I will stop, and leave you cuffed here until you're ready to behave. If you manage to be still and not to come for five full minutes, then you have the choice of coming down my throat, on my face, or inside me. Otherwise, you'll come when I say you can. If I say you can. Understand?'
Tezuka swallowed hard, blinking suddenly-crossed eyes and exhaling on a shuddering breath. Fuji's words already had him about as close to the edge as it was possible to be without tumbling over, and his muscles were jerking, demanding contact, demanding anything. This was entirely unexplored territory for them, and as nervous as that made him, he was beginning to see what Fuji meant about being difficult to impress - he didn't think he'd ever been this hard in his life, and as much as he loathed being helpless and at someone's mercy, when it was Fuji, somehow the excitement of it won out over everything else until it was all he could do not to beg Fuji to get on with it before he went completely out of his mind.
'Understood,' he rasped hoarsely, and then immediately cried out as Fuji bent his head and bit down sharply on Tezuka's nipple. His muscles seized, his hips jerked, and he arched upward, seeking more harder please now...
...and Fuji lifted his head again, smirking at Tezuka. 'That,' he murmured, sliding a hand up Tezuka's side to toy with the abused nipple, 'was your practice run. Would you like me to give you a moment to regroup before we try that again? Next time, it counts.'
'Uh.' Tezuka shuddered, feeling his spine dissolve into jelly as Fuji scorched him with his fire-blue gaze. He was having a very difficult time thinking, between Fuji's explicit description of what he was going to do and the mental pictures that called up, the fact that he was still handcuffed to the bed and blanketed by a very warm, very eager Fuji, and the fact that it was still the fucking crack of dawn following a very long, very hard night, and it was making it nigh impossible for him to remember what he was supposed to be doing, never mind why he was supposed to be doing it.
If I let you.
Ah. There it was.
'Mmph.' He took another deep breath, closing his eyes and quieting his spirit as much as possible when aroused to the point of pain. 'All right. I'm ready.'
'You're sure?'
Tezuka breathed again, inhale-exhale, and then opened his eyes, giving Fuji a serene smile. 'I'm sure.'
Fuji blinked languidly at him, swollen lips curling into a slow smirk, and then moved, and Tezuka choked on a groan as that mouth wrapped tight around the head of his prick and sucked.
He didn't have any leverage, no way to press his hands against the mattress to help himself stay down, but he gritted his teeth and shoved his hips back against the mattress instead, holding them down until his muscles screamed in protest. His prick, on the other hand, was extremely happy with this situation - perhaps too happy, he thought, as he felt it jerk against the flat of Fuji's tongue, which Fuji was -- ohgod -- dragging along the underside in Just That Way that never failed to make Tezuka's toes curl.
No! he yelled at himself, hands clenching into fists over his head, and he breathed through his nose, fast and hard and ragged as he fought to focus on the spill of Fuji's hair against his thighs, the warmth of Fuji's hands against his hips, the soft little sounds Fuji made as he shifted his head, lowering his mouth over Tezuka's prick bit by bit -- anything except the too-fucking-delicious friction and maddening suction and the heat, god, the fucking heat that threatened to burn him from the inside out.
He wasn't going to lose. He was not going to lose to Fuji this time around, because this time there would be a loser, and that loser would most definitely be him. Fuji wasn't a sadist, but he wouldn't put it past him to sit there and jerk off in plain sight of Tezuka just so Tezuka was a hundred percent aware of what he was missing. He wasn't a sadist, no, but he could be a very ungracious winner.
'Mmmmm,' Fuji murmured against Tezuka's skin, making Tezuka twitch, and then lifted his head just a bit, gazing up Tezuka's body with a cat-in-the-cream expression, which was, if nothing else, scarily appropriate. 'Not bad, Tezuka. How do you feel?'
'Peachy,' Tezuka bit out, and then groaned loudly as Fuji dipped his head again and took Tezuka's cock nearly all the way into his mouth, lips sliding down the shaft until they brushed the circle of his fingers which he'd closed about the case. His throat moved as he swallowed, the familiar flutter of muscles against the tip a clear sign that Fuji was just as if not more excited than Tezuka; after so much practice, it took a lot to get Fuji's gag reflex to kick in. The mere fact that it had though made Tezuka moan, fighting to keep his breathing steady and flexing his toes until the tendons ached in an attempt to stave off the curl of tension he could feel working its way inexorably through his body.
It felt like Fuji had been at this forever, but he was fairly well certain it hadn't even been a minute yet; this must have been the only exception to the time flies adage, because it was most definitely very fun. Very. Tezuka had no complaints. Well, except maybe that he wanted to fucking come and he wasn't allowed, but that was just a minor grievance. Really.
Fuji chuckled gently, the vibrations electrifying already-hypersensitive skin, and Tezuka gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep breathing, to relax, to not think about orgasms until the time...er....came, and yeah that wasn't proving very useful at all, especially with the way that Fuji was now moving, letting Tezuka's prick slide through the O of his lips until he was just mouthing at the head, then ducking forward and swallowing Tezuka to the base again. His hand had migrated downward, palming the taut-velvet skin of Tezuka's sac, and two fingers curved behind, tickling that strip of skin there that made Tezuka want to yelp and shove his cock straight down Fuji's throat. Impolite as that might have been, Tezuka was only human, and Fuji was about to strip him of every last bit of propriety he had left. Not that that was much anymore, not after everything they'd done together.
He was fairly certain the maple syrup fiasco had thoroughly destroyed his untarnished record, and everything since then had only been icing. Very, very tasty, creamy, thick--
Damn it.
At this rate, his loss was inevitable, and no matter how hard he fought for it, it was going to prove futile. He had long since learned that playing as hard as he was able was all well and good, and demonstrated to the world how serious he was, but it also often proved foolish. There was no harm in applying strategy to his endeavours, and while he would never stoop to playing dirty, that didn't mean he couldn't use the many tactics at his disposal to get a little of his own back.
'You know,' he panted, voice low and rough and barely audible over the wet sucking sounds and the rasp of his own breath, 'the very first time I ever jerked off, I was thinking about you?'
Fuji froze, and Tezuka felt Fuji's tongue twitch against the underside of his prick.
He pressed forward. 'I didn't really make the connection at the time, though I suppose I should have, but you and I both know how...how stupid I can be about things sometimes.'
Fuji laughed, a wry chuckle deep in his throat, and Tezuka shuddered at the sensation, promptly deciding he needed to stay away from humour altogether.
'It was after that first match we played together. I didn't really even know what...what I was doing, or why -- 's not really...readily available information, at least not to an eleven year old, locker rooms be damned. But I did know that even though my arm ached, the rest of my body ached more, and...and when I closed my eyes, I could see your face, feel how angry you were, and how worried, the way you shook me like that and--'
He licked his lips, and felt Fuji swallow again, making his own hands clench tighter into fists.
'I tried to ignore it, but...every time my elbow would throb, so would my prick, and I just...I needed it to stop. But--but every time I let my hand...drop down between my legs, I'd close my eyes, and see you staring at me again, like you could see right through me, and i-it made me dizzy, disoriented, made me harder, a-and I knew I shouldn't...shouldn't be thinking about someone else while I...but I couldn't help it, couldn't stop, and it took me less than a minute before I was--'
He exhaled on a slow, shuddering breath, muscles rippling with tension and memory-sensation. 'I tried to forget about it. thinking it was just....just hormones, another one of those...strange things that happen to kids all the time, but ever since then.... Y've always been able to see through me, and I...even though it has always made me...uncomfortable, I've always wanted you to, always needed--'
His voice broke and he swallowed hard, mouth dry and pulse racing and arousal threatening to overwhelm him completely. His plan to bait Fuji, to turn the tables on him, seemed to have backfired, since now he was even worse off than he'd been before starting to speak, and he was just about to give it up as a lost cause when Fuji lifted his head, and Tezuka's mouth went even drier at the raw lust scorching in his gaze.
'Damn you,' Fuji whispered, voice made of unadulterated sex, and moved, lunging forward and claiming Tezuka's mouth in a rough, possessive, starving kiss that had Tezuka quivering and groaning within a split second as Fuji's hands found the hard muscle of his ass and Fuji's thighs flattened against his hips and Fuji's ass slid against the desperate hardness of his prick.
''S that five?' Tezuka panted against Fuji's mouth between searing kisses, eyes rolling back in his head as Fuji thrust against him with frenzied abandon, but Fuji's only response was an impatient growl, and Tezuka might have been inclined to make him wait for it, to let him get a taste of his own medicine, only he wasn't a sadist either, and besides, there was only one thing he wanted at that particular moment.
'On me now,' he snarled against Fuji's mouth, 'or else I'm--'
What he would do otherwise never left his lips, because Fuji required neither further encouragement nor further preparation, and it took less than two seconds for him to seat himself completely, still-stretched muscles giving way immediately until Tezuka was buried deep. They groaned in unison, Tezuka's hips jerking upward in frantic need and Fuji's hips slamming downward in matching desperation, Fuji's tongue in Tezuka's mouth, Fuji's hands in Tezuka's hair, Fuji's voice in Tezuka's ears as he cried out with each vicious-sharp thrust, the slap of skin on skin and the thud of bone against muscle as Fuji fucked himself on Tezuka again and again creating a cacophony of fervour until Tezuka was half-blind and dizzy with the overstimulation, the overload of his senses, too much too much toomuch, and his back snapped into a hard arch, tearing a ragged shout from the soles of his feet as heat rushed through his body in waves and he came harder than he could remember coming in a very long time, hips jerking in patternless beats against Fuji's and breath strangling in his lungs and muscles trembling in frenetic unison, only compounded when Fuji's body seized too and he muffled a bone-deep groan against Tezuka's mouth and came violently against the sweat-slick skin of Tezuka's belly.
By the time Fuji collapsed against him, breathless and boneless and utterly spent, Tezuka had only just regained something like proper sense awareness; his ears were still ringing, but he could hear Fuji's ragged breaths, could see the wispy fall of hair across his cheek, could feel the trembling aftershocks of Fuji's body against his own. He didn't have to ask how Fuji felt about this particular experiment - the proof was smeared liberally all over his stomach.
After a long silence, Fuji finally lifted his head, gazing down into Tezuka's face with bleary eyes. 'So that,' he rasped, 'was....well.....'m not sure if it was a success or not.'
Tezuka raised a brow. 'Is that so,' he managed, raggedly. 'How do you figure?'
'Well....' Fuji pushed himself slightly upright, propping himself up on his palms. 'That was supposed to be to get back at you.'
'"Supposed to" again,' Tezuka mumbled. 'Surely you hold no stock in that.'
'Well....' Fuji managed a smile, which was only that much more delicious due to the swollen redness of his mouth. 'I don't know.'
'You don't know.'
'Mm.' Fuji smiled, licking his lips. 'This may require further....experimentation.'
Tezuka stiffened, some parts of him more than others, and slowly tore his gaze away from Fuji's mouth to look him in the eye. Was Fuji suggesting what he thought he....
Fuji's smile widened, and he reached up, tracing the band of Tezuka's left cuff. 'After all,' he murmured, '"supposed to" does have its occasional function.'
Tezuka liked to win. He really, really did. But in this case, arguing the point, which he was temporarily tempted to do just on principle, and then winning the argument would only count as a spectacular loss. So instead, he wisely chose another route.
"Supposed to" or not, Tezuka being handcuffed to the bed didn't stop him from kissing Fuji until they both forgot what they'd been saying. And really, that was much better anyway.
Points of contention could wait for another day.
So without further ado!
Title: Points of Contention
Author: Anj (anjenue)
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji
Rating: NC-17 (very much so)
Word Count: 4446
Summary: Fuji thinks it's payback time. Tezuka begs to differ.
A/N: Sasuga Tezuka companion piece, set a few months afterward. Merry belated Christmas to reddwarfer!!!
Tezuka wasn't a terribly heavy sleeper.
There was no one particular reason for this fact. Over the years, he'd inadvertently trained himself not to be, between the early-morning wake ups, the need to be sharp, and quickly, for morning tennis practice, the threat of Inui coming to take data on him while his guard was down.... Any number of things had contributed to Tezuka's tendency to sleep light, and university had only compounded that habit until really, just the slightest hint of movement would wake him up.
So when he stirred awake at some indeterminate hour only to find his arms stretched over his head and silk-wrapped metal circling his wrists, it was a real token of a) how comfortable he'd been in this particular bed, with this particular person, and b) how thoroughly Fuji had tired him out the night before.
Of course, that didn't change the fact that he was now handcuffed to Fuji's bed.
He blinked, struggling to focus as much as he could without his glasses, and glanced about the room in search of the usual willowy body that shared it with him. The sunlight trickling through the curtains told him it was still early, perhaps six thirty or so, and sliding his leg to the side made it clear that Fuji hadn't been gone too long, but there was no sign of him, and Tezuka wasn't certain whether to be annoyed or resigned. It didn't seem to matter how long they spent together, "getting to know each other better" - Fuji had become no less predictable, which was the only predictable thing about him.
He cleared his throat silently, and then gave the cuffs an experimental tug. Which did absolutely nothing, of course, as they were metal and he was not, despite a few certain underclassmen's insistence, Superman. It did give him a sense of how much mobility he had, and how much force it would take to shift his position on the bed, both of which he knew he would need. It didn't take genius to know why he was handcuffed to the bed in the first place.
'Good morning,' murmured a cheery voice from the door, and Tezuka lifted his head, squinting down the length of his own body. Fuji was smiling, he could tell that much, but his eyes were also open, and he was giving Tezuka that Look that said Tezuka was in danger of being pounced without any further notice.
Not, he noted with a mixture of embarrassment and the wry amusement that could only come from weeks of sleeping with Fuji Syuusuke, that his body seemed to have any problems with this idea - part of his difficulty in making out Fuji's expression came from the fact that the tented blanket was obscuring his line of sight.
'I see you like being handcuffed as much as you like doing the handcuffing. That's interesting. I've been wondering about that for a while.'
'Have you.' Tezuka's voice was low, sleep-ragged and thick, and the arousal already running rampant through his system was doing little to help. 'Is that why the...experiment?'
Fuji laughed, moving forward and out of Tezuka's direct line of sight, so Tezuka had to track him with his eyes. 'Not entirely,' he said, still cheerful, though Tezuka had definitely been around him long enough to catch the low tremble of arousal beneath the seemingly carefree tone. 'That was part of it, but mostly....'
He came to a stop beside the bed, body just about even with the bottom of Tezuka's ribcage, and it made for an awkward angle from which to see his face, but did give Tezuka a very clear view of the very impressive tent in Fuji's pajama pants.
'Mostly I just thought it was time to return the favour.'
Before Tezuka had time to process that remark, Fuji was on top of him, swinging one long leg up onto the mattress, then the other, and pinning Tezuka down with his hips. Weeks of practise payed off as their hips lined up just right on the first try, and Fuji hissed, settling his weight fully atop Tezuka and curving his back over so his hair curtained their faces. Tezuka groaned, moving to catch hold of Fuji's hips, to feel the sharp points of hipbones under his thumbs, and then groaned again when he remembered he couldn't, his instinctive movement only making him tug hard at his cuffs and prompting a faint protest from his wrists.
Fuji smiled, blue eyes wide and dark as he leaned forward until their noses just touched. 'You see?' he breathed, warm and dark and inviting. 'It's frustrating, isn't it? Not being able to touch?' His smile widened slowly, a giant cat playing with its food, and he gave a slow, liquid blink. 'It's worth it, believe me, but it does take a while to...get used to.'
'Mm,' Tezuka murmured, the sound coming out as more of a choked moan. 'I...can imagine distraction does quite a good job of easing the transition.' He gave a small, returning smile of his own, and then suddenly pushed off the mattress, throwing Fuji off-balance with a twist of his hips and taking immediate advantage of Fuji's compromised position to claim his mouth in a fierce, biting kiss. Never let it be said again that Tezuka Kunimitsu didn't take what he wanted when he wanted it - he was slashing that tendency to shreds right this moment, as his tongue pushed hard and demanding into Fuji's mouth and his hips shifted beneath Fuji's just enough to drag their pricks against each other with the most maddeningly delicious friction, despite the two thin layers of fabric that separated them.
Fuji groaned, flattening his body against Tezuka's and slipping his hands beneath Tezuka's shoulderblades, clutching him tightly as he arched into him without hesitation, and Tezuka may have been the one handcuffed but that wasn't going to stop him from driving Fuji out of his mind. By now, he knew exactly how to kiss him, where to flick his tongue, how slowly and how deliberately to shift his hips in order to keep Fuji just on this side of incoherent need. Fuji dissolved beneath his non-touches, gasping and rubbing against him like a giant cat who'd forgotten its food in favour of really good sex, and Tezuka allowed himself the slightest smirk between panting breaths, meeting Fuji's movements with his own, snapping his hips up in perfect counterpoint to the downward jerks of Fuji's until they were all but fucking each other through the fabric, which was completely a desperately-horny-teenager thing to do but it didn't matter because it felt so fucking good that all Tezuka cared about was just--
'Stop!'
Fuji tore his mouth away from Tezuka's, gasping for breath, and Tezuka very nearly whimpered as Fuji lifted his hips up and back and out of reach, arching up uselessly and then slumping back against the mattress in utter frustration when the movement proved useful. He blinked balefully up at Fuji, fighting to focus through the arousal, and took several deep breaths before attempting to speak.
'What did you stop for?'
Fuji panted, licking his lips, and then stared at Tezuka sharply, eyes narrowed in displeasure - though the effect was rather diminished since Fuji looked completely debauched and just as desperate to finish what they started as Tezuka felt.
'You're the one handcuffed to the bed,' Fuji said, a bit peevishly. 'You're not supposed to take over.'
'What did we say about "supposed to"?' Tezuka said, tone laden with amused irony.
Fuji blinked, and then made a face which was somewhere between utter pleasure at the fact that Tezuka was joking about something that had, until very recently, been a sore point for him, and frustration at having his own words thrown back in his face. 'You know what I mean.'
Tezuka shook his head. 'Can't say that I do,' he replied honestly. 'I thought we were doing rather well.'
'No,' Fuji bit out. 'Well. Yes, we were, but....'
He ran his fingers through his messy hair, sitting back on Tezuka's thighs as he tried visibly to organise his thoughts. Tezuka watched him with mingled fondness, want, and impatience, and, after a moment, mischievously flexed his quadriceps, making Fuji yelp and twitch violently before pinning Tezuka with as scathing a look as someone suffering from severe arousal could manage.
'You've gotten awfully cocky,' he said in a warning tone.
Tezuka smiled, unrepentant, and flexed his muscles again, this time starting at the knee and working upward - it was amazing, really, what happy side effects years of sports training could have. Fuji twitched again, the muscles of his jaw working, though Tezuka could see enough to catch the way Fuji's eyes darkened even further as he followed the ripple of muscles up Tezuka's belly above the crease of the sheet. He knew Fuji wasn't actually upset, or frustrated, or any of those things - they played games with each other all the time, and while they may have felt fierce competitiveness on the courts, off it, they both won no matter what happened, so their contention was merely for fun, and the "win" simply a formality that allowed the winner to (playfully) lord it over the loser until such time as he chose to challenge the winner in an attempt to turn the tables.
Whatever the system, it resulted in hours and hours and hours of very enjoyable sex, so Tezuka didn't really care either way.
Then again, he very much did enjoy winning.
'I'm serious,' Fuji stressed, trying to sound stern, and only managing it a little bit. 'I mean, don't get me wrong - I'm glad we've gotten past the initial...hesitation, because you're far more fun when you don't think twice about fucking me into the bed.' He paused, waiting for a reaction, and when he didn't get one, he exhaled on a sharp breath.
'However, I think you've become...just a little bit too...well, I don't want to say you're jaded, but you're not quite so easy to impress.'
'Oh, I don't know about that,' Tezuka murmured, gaze skating across Fuji's face and down the bared lines of his chest. 'I'm pretty impressed right now, in case you hadn't noticed.'
'Maybe,' Fuji murmured, 'but I thought...maybe it was time to try something new.'
Tezuka blinked, then arched his back, skin sliding against sheets as he presented his chest, and body thrilling with gratification as he heard Fuji's breath hitch. 'Is that why the handcuffs then?'
'Sort of.' Fuji smiled, his eyes disappearing behind long-lashed lids. 'I did say I owed you for the first time. But since you're so...open to new things in a way you certainly weren't then, I thought I would introduce you to something a little...different.'
Fuji's smile turned positively wicked, and before Tezuka had a chance to ask, Fuji shifted, yanking the sheets off Tezuka's body, and settled atop him again, tailbone pressed against the bump of Tezuka's left knee. His cock pressed hot and firm against Tezuka's thigh, and Tezuka's mouth watered a bit, fingers twitching from a desire to touch and hips shifting restlessly against the sheets. His cock ached for attention, the warm drizzle of pre-come against his belly turning chill in the cool morning air, but Fuji wasn't yielding, and he simply eyed Tezuka until Tezuka stopped moving and lay still, waiting.
'Good,' Fuji murmured, regarding Tezuka with slitted, thoughtful eyes. 'Now here's how it's going to work. You are going to lie still, and I am going to suck your cock.'
A groan strangled in Tezuka's throat, and he bit it off by sinking his teeth into his tongue.
Fuji's smile ratcheted up a notch. 'You can make all the noise you like, but you are not allowed to move. If you move, I will stop, and leave you cuffed here until you're ready to behave. If you manage to be still and not to come for five full minutes, then you have the choice of coming down my throat, on my face, or inside me. Otherwise, you'll come when I say you can. If I say you can. Understand?'
Tezuka swallowed hard, blinking suddenly-crossed eyes and exhaling on a shuddering breath. Fuji's words already had him about as close to the edge as it was possible to be without tumbling over, and his muscles were jerking, demanding contact, demanding anything. This was entirely unexplored territory for them, and as nervous as that made him, he was beginning to see what Fuji meant about being difficult to impress - he didn't think he'd ever been this hard in his life, and as much as he loathed being helpless and at someone's mercy, when it was Fuji, somehow the excitement of it won out over everything else until it was all he could do not to beg Fuji to get on with it before he went completely out of his mind.
'Understood,' he rasped hoarsely, and then immediately cried out as Fuji bent his head and bit down sharply on Tezuka's nipple. His muscles seized, his hips jerked, and he arched upward, seeking more harder please now...
...and Fuji lifted his head again, smirking at Tezuka. 'That,' he murmured, sliding a hand up Tezuka's side to toy with the abused nipple, 'was your practice run. Would you like me to give you a moment to regroup before we try that again? Next time, it counts.'
'Uh.' Tezuka shuddered, feeling his spine dissolve into jelly as Fuji scorched him with his fire-blue gaze. He was having a very difficult time thinking, between Fuji's explicit description of what he was going to do and the mental pictures that called up, the fact that he was still handcuffed to the bed and blanketed by a very warm, very eager Fuji, and the fact that it was still the fucking crack of dawn following a very long, very hard night, and it was making it nigh impossible for him to remember what he was supposed to be doing, never mind why he was supposed to be doing it.
If I let you.
Ah. There it was.
'Mmph.' He took another deep breath, closing his eyes and quieting his spirit as much as possible when aroused to the point of pain. 'All right. I'm ready.'
'You're sure?'
Tezuka breathed again, inhale-exhale, and then opened his eyes, giving Fuji a serene smile. 'I'm sure.'
Fuji blinked languidly at him, swollen lips curling into a slow smirk, and then moved, and Tezuka choked on a groan as that mouth wrapped tight around the head of his prick and sucked.
He didn't have any leverage, no way to press his hands against the mattress to help himself stay down, but he gritted his teeth and shoved his hips back against the mattress instead, holding them down until his muscles screamed in protest. His prick, on the other hand, was extremely happy with this situation - perhaps too happy, he thought, as he felt it jerk against the flat of Fuji's tongue, which Fuji was -- ohgod -- dragging along the underside in Just That Way that never failed to make Tezuka's toes curl.
No! he yelled at himself, hands clenching into fists over his head, and he breathed through his nose, fast and hard and ragged as he fought to focus on the spill of Fuji's hair against his thighs, the warmth of Fuji's hands against his hips, the soft little sounds Fuji made as he shifted his head, lowering his mouth over Tezuka's prick bit by bit -- anything except the too-fucking-delicious friction and maddening suction and the heat, god, the fucking heat that threatened to burn him from the inside out.
He wasn't going to lose. He was not going to lose to Fuji this time around, because this time there would be a loser, and that loser would most definitely be him. Fuji wasn't a sadist, but he wouldn't put it past him to sit there and jerk off in plain sight of Tezuka just so Tezuka was a hundred percent aware of what he was missing. He wasn't a sadist, no, but he could be a very ungracious winner.
'Mmmmm,' Fuji murmured against Tezuka's skin, making Tezuka twitch, and then lifted his head just a bit, gazing up Tezuka's body with a cat-in-the-cream expression, which was, if nothing else, scarily appropriate. 'Not bad, Tezuka. How do you feel?'
'Peachy,' Tezuka bit out, and then groaned loudly as Fuji dipped his head again and took Tezuka's cock nearly all the way into his mouth, lips sliding down the shaft until they brushed the circle of his fingers which he'd closed about the case. His throat moved as he swallowed, the familiar flutter of muscles against the tip a clear sign that Fuji was just as if not more excited than Tezuka; after so much practice, it took a lot to get Fuji's gag reflex to kick in. The mere fact that it had though made Tezuka moan, fighting to keep his breathing steady and flexing his toes until the tendons ached in an attempt to stave off the curl of tension he could feel working its way inexorably through his body.
It felt like Fuji had been at this forever, but he was fairly well certain it hadn't even been a minute yet; this must have been the only exception to the time flies adage, because it was most definitely very fun. Very. Tezuka had no complaints. Well, except maybe that he wanted to fucking come and he wasn't allowed, but that was just a minor grievance. Really.
Fuji chuckled gently, the vibrations electrifying already-hypersensitive skin, and Tezuka gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep breathing, to relax, to not think about orgasms until the time...er....came, and yeah that wasn't proving very useful at all, especially with the way that Fuji was now moving, letting Tezuka's prick slide through the O of his lips until he was just mouthing at the head, then ducking forward and swallowing Tezuka to the base again. His hand had migrated downward, palming the taut-velvet skin of Tezuka's sac, and two fingers curved behind, tickling that strip of skin there that made Tezuka want to yelp and shove his cock straight down Fuji's throat. Impolite as that might have been, Tezuka was only human, and Fuji was about to strip him of every last bit of propriety he had left. Not that that was much anymore, not after everything they'd done together.
He was fairly certain the maple syrup fiasco had thoroughly destroyed his untarnished record, and everything since then had only been icing. Very, very tasty, creamy, thick--
Damn it.
At this rate, his loss was inevitable, and no matter how hard he fought for it, it was going to prove futile. He had long since learned that playing as hard as he was able was all well and good, and demonstrated to the world how serious he was, but it also often proved foolish. There was no harm in applying strategy to his endeavours, and while he would never stoop to playing dirty, that didn't mean he couldn't use the many tactics at his disposal to get a little of his own back.
'You know,' he panted, voice low and rough and barely audible over the wet sucking sounds and the rasp of his own breath, 'the very first time I ever jerked off, I was thinking about you?'
Fuji froze, and Tezuka felt Fuji's tongue twitch against the underside of his prick.
He pressed forward. 'I didn't really make the connection at the time, though I suppose I should have, but you and I both know how...how stupid I can be about things sometimes.'
Fuji laughed, a wry chuckle deep in his throat, and Tezuka shuddered at the sensation, promptly deciding he needed to stay away from humour altogether.
'It was after that first match we played together. I didn't really even know what...what I was doing, or why -- 's not really...readily available information, at least not to an eleven year old, locker rooms be damned. But I did know that even though my arm ached, the rest of my body ached more, and...and when I closed my eyes, I could see your face, feel how angry you were, and how worried, the way you shook me like that and--'
He licked his lips, and felt Fuji swallow again, making his own hands clench tighter into fists.
'I tried to ignore it, but...every time my elbow would throb, so would my prick, and I just...I needed it to stop. But--but every time I let my hand...drop down between my legs, I'd close my eyes, and see you staring at me again, like you could see right through me, and i-it made me dizzy, disoriented, made me harder, a-and I knew I shouldn't...shouldn't be thinking about someone else while I...but I couldn't help it, couldn't stop, and it took me less than a minute before I was--'
He exhaled on a slow, shuddering breath, muscles rippling with tension and memory-sensation. 'I tried to forget about it. thinking it was just....just hormones, another one of those...strange things that happen to kids all the time, but ever since then.... Y've always been able to see through me, and I...even though it has always made me...uncomfortable, I've always wanted you to, always needed--'
His voice broke and he swallowed hard, mouth dry and pulse racing and arousal threatening to overwhelm him completely. His plan to bait Fuji, to turn the tables on him, seemed to have backfired, since now he was even worse off than he'd been before starting to speak, and he was just about to give it up as a lost cause when Fuji lifted his head, and Tezuka's mouth went even drier at the raw lust scorching in his gaze.
'Damn you,' Fuji whispered, voice made of unadulterated sex, and moved, lunging forward and claiming Tezuka's mouth in a rough, possessive, starving kiss that had Tezuka quivering and groaning within a split second as Fuji's hands found the hard muscle of his ass and Fuji's thighs flattened against his hips and Fuji's ass slid against the desperate hardness of his prick.
''S that five?' Tezuka panted against Fuji's mouth between searing kisses, eyes rolling back in his head as Fuji thrust against him with frenzied abandon, but Fuji's only response was an impatient growl, and Tezuka might have been inclined to make him wait for it, to let him get a taste of his own medicine, only he wasn't a sadist either, and besides, there was only one thing he wanted at that particular moment.
'On me now,' he snarled against Fuji's mouth, 'or else I'm--'
What he would do otherwise never left his lips, because Fuji required neither further encouragement nor further preparation, and it took less than two seconds for him to seat himself completely, still-stretched muscles giving way immediately until Tezuka was buried deep. They groaned in unison, Tezuka's hips jerking upward in frantic need and Fuji's hips slamming downward in matching desperation, Fuji's tongue in Tezuka's mouth, Fuji's hands in Tezuka's hair, Fuji's voice in Tezuka's ears as he cried out with each vicious-sharp thrust, the slap of skin on skin and the thud of bone against muscle as Fuji fucked himself on Tezuka again and again creating a cacophony of fervour until Tezuka was half-blind and dizzy with the overstimulation, the overload of his senses, too much too much toomuch, and his back snapped into a hard arch, tearing a ragged shout from the soles of his feet as heat rushed through his body in waves and he came harder than he could remember coming in a very long time, hips jerking in patternless beats against Fuji's and breath strangling in his lungs and muscles trembling in frenetic unison, only compounded when Fuji's body seized too and he muffled a bone-deep groan against Tezuka's mouth and came violently against the sweat-slick skin of Tezuka's belly.
By the time Fuji collapsed against him, breathless and boneless and utterly spent, Tezuka had only just regained something like proper sense awareness; his ears were still ringing, but he could hear Fuji's ragged breaths, could see the wispy fall of hair across his cheek, could feel the trembling aftershocks of Fuji's body against his own. He didn't have to ask how Fuji felt about this particular experiment - the proof was smeared liberally all over his stomach.
After a long silence, Fuji finally lifted his head, gazing down into Tezuka's face with bleary eyes. 'So that,' he rasped, 'was....well.....'m not sure if it was a success or not.'
Tezuka raised a brow. 'Is that so,' he managed, raggedly. 'How do you figure?'
'Well....' Fuji pushed himself slightly upright, propping himself up on his palms. 'That was supposed to be to get back at you.'
'"Supposed to" again,' Tezuka mumbled. 'Surely you hold no stock in that.'
'Well....' Fuji managed a smile, which was only that much more delicious due to the swollen redness of his mouth. 'I don't know.'
'You don't know.'
'Mm.' Fuji smiled, licking his lips. 'This may require further....experimentation.'
Tezuka stiffened, some parts of him more than others, and slowly tore his gaze away from Fuji's mouth to look him in the eye. Was Fuji suggesting what he thought he....
Fuji's smile widened, and he reached up, tracing the band of Tezuka's left cuff. 'After all,' he murmured, '"supposed to" does have its occasional function.'
Tezuka liked to win. He really, really did. But in this case, arguing the point, which he was temporarily tempted to do just on principle, and then winning the argument would only count as a spectacular loss. So instead, he wisely chose another route.
"Supposed to" or not, Tezuka being handcuffed to the bed didn't stop him from kissing Fuji until they both forgot what they'd been saying. And really, that was much better anyway.
Points of contention could wait for another day.