(no subject)
Title: A Light Concussion
Series: Hyoutei Pie, part 5 of 7. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Rating: NC17
Characters: Silver Pair. Hiyoshi. Jiroh.
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is Konomi-sensei's strange invention.
Author's note: ...Sex. ^____^
*
Hiyoshi felt the bed shift. He blinked at the figure in the doorway, illuminated by the sudden flood of light.
Shishido. Looking -- stricken. But his expression changed like lightning, melting from confusion to sadness to anger to predatory darkness within seconds. Hiyoshi blinked again, and suddenly Shishido was sitting on the bed too.
"Choutaroh, that wasn't a kiss." Shishido said, very matter-of-factly.
Hiyoshi opened his mouth to say that yes, it was in fact a kiss, and a pretty damned good one at that, when he saw Shishido's hands reaching out to fist around Ohtori's tie and drag him close.
Nose to nose, Shishido murmured his next words into Ohtori's mouth, staring into Ohtori's eyes with a hard and hungry gaze. "This is a kiss, Choutaroh. This is a kiss."
And then, Hiyoshi got front row seats to D1's first kiss, not a minute after his own. Ohtori's eyes went wide for a moment and then shut tightly. His arms wrapped around Shishido and pulled him close with a groan that was all helpless desire, and Shishido gripped Ohtori by the back of the shirt in return, knuckles white against the fabric. Shishido opened his mouth, tongue licking at Ohtori's lips until Ohtori opened his own mouth, and suddenly there was a hard, hot tangle of bodies as they melded together, completely lost in the moment.
Oh. Fuck... Hiyoshi stared for another moment longer, feeling a rush of adrenaline as if he was a part of that kiss. And then was hit by another sensation as reality sank in. Hiyoshi felt amazingly alone. He scrambled out of his bed, gripped his pants in a hand, and hopped toward the door with his foot down one leg.
"Enjoy," Hiyoshi said, wiping his strangely leaky eyes on the back of his arm, sliding his pants up his hips.
"W-wait -- Wakashi, wait --" Ohtori's voice was pleading. But Hiyoshi had seen what a real kiss was like. It was hungry. Needy. Hot. Full of years of desire, of playing together side-by-side, casting sideways glances and wondering if the other person hungered for your lips as much as you desired his.
Hiyoshi slammed the door shut behind him and ran down the hallway almost blindly. He didn't much care where he ended up -- maybe he'd go back to the courts, Mukahi be damned, and slam a tennis ball against a wall until his heart stopped feeling like it had been sucker-punched.
Hiyoshi didn't see the foot snake out of the dorm room. Not even when his ankle caught it, and the floor came rushing toward his face with a strange and sudden swiftness.
*
Wet cloth on his forehead. Warm blanket over him. And a soft comforting voice was saying something ultimately soothing. Hiyoshi drifted back into consciousness feeling like his day had suddenly gotten a whole lot better, despite the slight throb of his forehead.
"Lucky," the voice said around a very large yawn. "That you cut your hair that way. Because the bump will totally be hidden. Although you should really think about feathering those bangs a little more, like Marui-san."
An arm was lazily wrapped around Hiyoshi's torso, and a soft body congealed to his as though Hiyoshi was nothing more than an oversized plush toy.
"Don't move too much," the voice instructed, warm and sleepy and vaguely scolding. "Concussions need rest."
Is that what had happened to Hiyoshi? Hiyoshi frowned. His foot had caught on something... Hiyoshi's eyes blinked open wider and he stared around the room. It was devoted to two themes: sleeping, and Marui Bunta.
Hiyoshi tried to sit up, but the arm caught around his torso in a molasses-like grip. "You don't listen very well, do you...you have to keep still for a while, Piyo-chan. Aren't you comfy?" That sleepy-happy tone again, wrapping around Hiyoshi and making him drowsy too. Hiyoshi caught himself yawning.
"I didn't know, Jiroh-senpai, that your entire room was essentially a bed."
"Well. I do spend most of my time in one."
The room was full of beds from one end of the room to the other, as if all the extra mattresses in the dormitory had flocked to Jiroh's room for a slumber party and filled themselves up with comforters, sheets, and cute fluffy pillows in the shape of Sanrio characters. On the walls over the beds were pictures, promotional posters, and blown-up stalker shots of Rikkaidai's Marui Bunta. Above Hiyoshi's head, affixed to the ceiling, was a particularly fine shot of Marui mid-air, shorts riding up to almost reveal his underpants (if you squinted in just the right way).
"Mukahi-senpai would be so incredibly pissed off to see all that," Hiyoshi noted.
Jiroh's hand stroked Hiyoshi's side in a soothing, absent-minded kind of way, and Hiyoshi realized that Jiroh's leg was wrapped around his too. "Mhm," Jiroh nodded, chin resting heavily on Hiyoshi's shoulder. "Why do you think nobody's ever seen my room? Well. Almost nobody. Keigo has." Jiroh grinned, just a little.
Hiyoshi noted a book open on Jiroh's bed and scowled. It was one of those goddamned sports doujinshi, where the eternally sleepy S2 player somehow managed to convince the surly ace to sleep with him. Hiyoshi nudged the book with his foot until it hit the floor, and then felt his heart ache in his chest again. Stupid sex. Stupid...love. Hiyoshi guessed that maybe Ohtori hadn't meant what he said after all. Not that Ohtori had actually said anything before he kissed...
Hiyoshi felt a tear hit his earlobe. And then another.
Jiroh's hand wound up Hiyoshi's chest to his chin and tilted his head around. Bright eyes bored into Hiyoshi's own.
"Concussion hurt?" Jiroh's tone was softly worried.
"No, I've just had a really, really bad day."
Jiroh's hands became the softest thing Hiyoshi had felt since Ohtori's lips. Which, Hiyoshi supposed, wasn't saying much, considering that it wasn't long ago that... "Fuck."
Jiroh paused his soft stroking. "Well, I suppose we could," he said, snuggling toward Hiyoshi in a slightly different way, "although it really does take a lot of effort. I much prefer this..." And suddenly Jiroh's hand was on Hiyoshi's crotch.
Hiyoshi jumped and gasped. "Senpai. That's my penis."
"What's your penis? This?" Jiroh's fingers gave a lazy rub to Hiyoshi's balls.
Hiyoshi gasped again. "N-no senpai. Those are my balls. And your fingers are --"
"Oh. Gomen. Is this your penis?" Jiroh gave the lump in Hiyoshi's pants a teasing little rub.
Hiyoshi kept gasping. "Y-yes."
"Not very erect, are you. Can't very well have sex like that." Jiroh's fingers did another little dance, and Hiyoshi felt his face grow red.
"I-I didn't mean that we should --"
"No, no, you're right," Jiroh said very thoughtfully. "Turn toward me a little. There you go." Not that Hiyoshi had a choice with Jiroh maneuvering his body around in a vice-grip.
"Senpai..." Hiyoshi tried again, and then gasped a fourth time. Somehow Jiroh hand managed to undo their pants. For the first time in his life, Hiyoshi felt another man's hand touch his bare cock, and Hiyoshi felt himself rise to the occasion. Erect, throbbing, aching, all those words he knew from reading Lord of the Rackets.
Jiroh gave Hiyoshi a light stroke and blinked. "You aren't very polite," he reproved. "You should really be undoing my pants now too."
Oh. Is that what Hiyoshi should be doing? Feeling discombobulated, Hiyoshi hesitantly reached down under the warm covers and felt around for pants. There they were, with Jiroh's erection pressing against the zipper.
Wait, what the hell was Hiyoshi doing again? Hiyoshi twitched. "Senpai, I should really be..." Okay, it was hard to talk with someone's hand firmly jacking you off. "AAhhhhh..."
"Lying still," Jiroh said promptly. "Concussion." Jiroh wiggled closer and suddenly Hiyoshi felt his cock press against Jiroh's, skin sliding against skin in a motion that completely blanked out Hiyoshi's brain.
"Oh God..."
"No. God is up there." Jiroh pointed his nose toward Marui on the ceiling, staring down at them.
"Nnnhhhh..." Hiyoshi responded, a bit incoherently. Jiroh's hands were firmly wrapped around them both, and Hiyoshi felt his cock gripped and tugged and gripped again and tugged. It wasn't quite how Hiyoshi did it, but it worked just fine.
No, more than fine. Jiroh didn't kiss Hiyoshi at all, but he nuzzled his face toward Hiyoshi's ear and did something obscene and wet to the lobe that sent shocks down to Hiyoshi's balls.
"Touch me back," Jiroh whispered, and something about the hot, wet breath melting into Hiyoshi's ear made him run his hands down Jiroh's chest to find their meeting (mating) dicks, and when Hiyoshi's fingers felt Jiroh's cock humping his, he gasped (fifth time), and closed his hand around his first other-guy's-penis...
"Nhhh...Oh yeah...feels good, Piyo-chan," Jiroh's voice was an encouraging little raspy noise in his ear, and their hands and cocks kept bumping together in a rhythm that was both awkward and extremely hot all at once.
And then Hiyoshi hit his plateau and moaned, trying to get out words to the effect that he was going to come, but Jiroh was way ahead of him. Clever fingers pressed hard and strong up the length of their cocks, jerking in that perfect rough way at the tip, and Hiyoshi cried out.
His body jolted and rubbed and pressed against Jiroh's, and a stroke or two later Hiyoshi felt hot globs hit his palm.
"Hmmmmmmmm..." Jiroh said with a satisfied little hum. "Not bad for a first-timer."
Hiyoshi felt himself being wiped up (where did Jiroh keep the wet wipes? Under a pillow?), but when he tried to sit up to get his strangely empty head back in place, he was being held down again.
"Concussion, remember?" Jiroh's voice was very, very sleepy. "Plus, you owe me snuggles now."
"I owe you snuggles?"
Jiroh shot him exactly one wicked, entirely too alert glance before falling immediately and completely to sleep. Hiyoshi couldn't have moved out from under the dead weight of Jiroh's body if he tried.
Hiyoshi turned wide, sleepless eyes up to Marui Bunta. Marui stared back down at him.
"I bet you don't go through stuff like this at Rikkaidai," Hiyoshi said to the poster of Marui.
But Hiyoshi noticed that in the poster, the rest of the team seemed to be staring at Marui's ass.
*
Much, much later, Hiyoshi tried to sneak quietly back into his room.
He shouldn't have bothered. Nobody was there.
Hiyoshi trailed over to his computer, feeling a bit dispirited, only to see email from Atobe.
Dear idiots,
It appears that ore-sama must hold another "team building" exercise at the estate so that the team doesn't implode. Please arrive tomorrow at six in the evening. Any latecomers will be assigned laps.
Your Buchou.
[To be continued!]
Series: Hyoutei Pie, part 5 of 7. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Rating: NC17
Characters: Silver Pair. Hiyoshi. Jiroh.
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is Konomi-sensei's strange invention.
Author's note: ...Sex. ^____^
*
Hiyoshi felt the bed shift. He blinked at the figure in the doorway, illuminated by the sudden flood of light.
Shishido. Looking -- stricken. But his expression changed like lightning, melting from confusion to sadness to anger to predatory darkness within seconds. Hiyoshi blinked again, and suddenly Shishido was sitting on the bed too.
"Choutaroh, that wasn't a kiss." Shishido said, very matter-of-factly.
Hiyoshi opened his mouth to say that yes, it was in fact a kiss, and a pretty damned good one at that, when he saw Shishido's hands reaching out to fist around Ohtori's tie and drag him close.
Nose to nose, Shishido murmured his next words into Ohtori's mouth, staring into Ohtori's eyes with a hard and hungry gaze. "This is a kiss, Choutaroh. This is a kiss."
And then, Hiyoshi got front row seats to D1's first kiss, not a minute after his own. Ohtori's eyes went wide for a moment and then shut tightly. His arms wrapped around Shishido and pulled him close with a groan that was all helpless desire, and Shishido gripped Ohtori by the back of the shirt in return, knuckles white against the fabric. Shishido opened his mouth, tongue licking at Ohtori's lips until Ohtori opened his own mouth, and suddenly there was a hard, hot tangle of bodies as they melded together, completely lost in the moment.
Oh. Fuck... Hiyoshi stared for another moment longer, feeling a rush of adrenaline as if he was a part of that kiss. And then was hit by another sensation as reality sank in. Hiyoshi felt amazingly alone. He scrambled out of his bed, gripped his pants in a hand, and hopped toward the door with his foot down one leg.
"Enjoy," Hiyoshi said, wiping his strangely leaky eyes on the back of his arm, sliding his pants up his hips.
"W-wait -- Wakashi, wait --" Ohtori's voice was pleading. But Hiyoshi had seen what a real kiss was like. It was hungry. Needy. Hot. Full of years of desire, of playing together side-by-side, casting sideways glances and wondering if the other person hungered for your lips as much as you desired his.
Hiyoshi slammed the door shut behind him and ran down the hallway almost blindly. He didn't much care where he ended up -- maybe he'd go back to the courts, Mukahi be damned, and slam a tennis ball against a wall until his heart stopped feeling like it had been sucker-punched.
Hiyoshi didn't see the foot snake out of the dorm room. Not even when his ankle caught it, and the floor came rushing toward his face with a strange and sudden swiftness.
*
Wet cloth on his forehead. Warm blanket over him. And a soft comforting voice was saying something ultimately soothing. Hiyoshi drifted back into consciousness feeling like his day had suddenly gotten a whole lot better, despite the slight throb of his forehead.
"Lucky," the voice said around a very large yawn. "That you cut your hair that way. Because the bump will totally be hidden. Although you should really think about feathering those bangs a little more, like Marui-san."
An arm was lazily wrapped around Hiyoshi's torso, and a soft body congealed to his as though Hiyoshi was nothing more than an oversized plush toy.
"Don't move too much," the voice instructed, warm and sleepy and vaguely scolding. "Concussions need rest."
Is that what had happened to Hiyoshi? Hiyoshi frowned. His foot had caught on something... Hiyoshi's eyes blinked open wider and he stared around the room. It was devoted to two themes: sleeping, and Marui Bunta.
Hiyoshi tried to sit up, but the arm caught around his torso in a molasses-like grip. "You don't listen very well, do you...you have to keep still for a while, Piyo-chan. Aren't you comfy?" That sleepy-happy tone again, wrapping around Hiyoshi and making him drowsy too. Hiyoshi caught himself yawning.
"I didn't know, Jiroh-senpai, that your entire room was essentially a bed."
"Well. I do spend most of my time in one."
The room was full of beds from one end of the room to the other, as if all the extra mattresses in the dormitory had flocked to Jiroh's room for a slumber party and filled themselves up with comforters, sheets, and cute fluffy pillows in the shape of Sanrio characters. On the walls over the beds were pictures, promotional posters, and blown-up stalker shots of Rikkaidai's Marui Bunta. Above Hiyoshi's head, affixed to the ceiling, was a particularly fine shot of Marui mid-air, shorts riding up to almost reveal his underpants (if you squinted in just the right way).
"Mukahi-senpai would be so incredibly pissed off to see all that," Hiyoshi noted.
Jiroh's hand stroked Hiyoshi's side in a soothing, absent-minded kind of way, and Hiyoshi realized that Jiroh's leg was wrapped around his too. "Mhm," Jiroh nodded, chin resting heavily on Hiyoshi's shoulder. "Why do you think nobody's ever seen my room? Well. Almost nobody. Keigo has." Jiroh grinned, just a little.
Hiyoshi noted a book open on Jiroh's bed and scowled. It was one of those goddamned sports doujinshi, where the eternally sleepy S2 player somehow managed to convince the surly ace to sleep with him. Hiyoshi nudged the book with his foot until it hit the floor, and then felt his heart ache in his chest again. Stupid sex. Stupid...love. Hiyoshi guessed that maybe Ohtori hadn't meant what he said after all. Not that Ohtori had actually said anything before he kissed...
Hiyoshi felt a tear hit his earlobe. And then another.
Jiroh's hand wound up Hiyoshi's chest to his chin and tilted his head around. Bright eyes bored into Hiyoshi's own.
"Concussion hurt?" Jiroh's tone was softly worried.
"No, I've just had a really, really bad day."
Jiroh's hands became the softest thing Hiyoshi had felt since Ohtori's lips. Which, Hiyoshi supposed, wasn't saying much, considering that it wasn't long ago that... "Fuck."
Jiroh paused his soft stroking. "Well, I suppose we could," he said, snuggling toward Hiyoshi in a slightly different way, "although it really does take a lot of effort. I much prefer this..." And suddenly Jiroh's hand was on Hiyoshi's crotch.
Hiyoshi jumped and gasped. "Senpai. That's my penis."
"What's your penis? This?" Jiroh's fingers gave a lazy rub to Hiyoshi's balls.
Hiyoshi gasped again. "N-no senpai. Those are my balls. And your fingers are --"
"Oh. Gomen. Is this your penis?" Jiroh gave the lump in Hiyoshi's pants a teasing little rub.
Hiyoshi kept gasping. "Y-yes."
"Not very erect, are you. Can't very well have sex like that." Jiroh's fingers did another little dance, and Hiyoshi felt his face grow red.
"I-I didn't mean that we should --"
"No, no, you're right," Jiroh said very thoughtfully. "Turn toward me a little. There you go." Not that Hiyoshi had a choice with Jiroh maneuvering his body around in a vice-grip.
"Senpai..." Hiyoshi tried again, and then gasped a fourth time. Somehow Jiroh hand managed to undo their pants. For the first time in his life, Hiyoshi felt another man's hand touch his bare cock, and Hiyoshi felt himself rise to the occasion. Erect, throbbing, aching, all those words he knew from reading Lord of the Rackets.
Jiroh gave Hiyoshi a light stroke and blinked. "You aren't very polite," he reproved. "You should really be undoing my pants now too."
Oh. Is that what Hiyoshi should be doing? Feeling discombobulated, Hiyoshi hesitantly reached down under the warm covers and felt around for pants. There they were, with Jiroh's erection pressing against the zipper.
Wait, what the hell was Hiyoshi doing again? Hiyoshi twitched. "Senpai, I should really be..." Okay, it was hard to talk with someone's hand firmly jacking you off. "AAhhhhh..."
"Lying still," Jiroh said promptly. "Concussion." Jiroh wiggled closer and suddenly Hiyoshi felt his cock press against Jiroh's, skin sliding against skin in a motion that completely blanked out Hiyoshi's brain.
"Oh God..."
"No. God is up there." Jiroh pointed his nose toward Marui on the ceiling, staring down at them.
"Nnnhhhh..." Hiyoshi responded, a bit incoherently. Jiroh's hands were firmly wrapped around them both, and Hiyoshi felt his cock gripped and tugged and gripped again and tugged. It wasn't quite how Hiyoshi did it, but it worked just fine.
No, more than fine. Jiroh didn't kiss Hiyoshi at all, but he nuzzled his face toward Hiyoshi's ear and did something obscene and wet to the lobe that sent shocks down to Hiyoshi's balls.
"Touch me back," Jiroh whispered, and something about the hot, wet breath melting into Hiyoshi's ear made him run his hands down Jiroh's chest to find their meeting (mating) dicks, and when Hiyoshi's fingers felt Jiroh's cock humping his, he gasped (fifth time), and closed his hand around his first other-guy's-penis...
"Nhhh...Oh yeah...feels good, Piyo-chan," Jiroh's voice was an encouraging little raspy noise in his ear, and their hands and cocks kept bumping together in a rhythm that was both awkward and extremely hot all at once.
And then Hiyoshi hit his plateau and moaned, trying to get out words to the effect that he was going to come, but Jiroh was way ahead of him. Clever fingers pressed hard and strong up the length of their cocks, jerking in that perfect rough way at the tip, and Hiyoshi cried out.
His body jolted and rubbed and pressed against Jiroh's, and a stroke or two later Hiyoshi felt hot globs hit his palm.
"Hmmmmmmmm..." Jiroh said with a satisfied little hum. "Not bad for a first-timer."
Hiyoshi felt himself being wiped up (where did Jiroh keep the wet wipes? Under a pillow?), but when he tried to sit up to get his strangely empty head back in place, he was being held down again.
"Concussion, remember?" Jiroh's voice was very, very sleepy. "Plus, you owe me snuggles now."
"I owe you snuggles?"
Jiroh shot him exactly one wicked, entirely too alert glance before falling immediately and completely to sleep. Hiyoshi couldn't have moved out from under the dead weight of Jiroh's body if he tried.
Hiyoshi turned wide, sleepless eyes up to Marui Bunta. Marui stared back down at him.
"I bet you don't go through stuff like this at Rikkaidai," Hiyoshi said to the poster of Marui.
But Hiyoshi noticed that in the poster, the rest of the team seemed to be staring at Marui's ass.
*
Much, much later, Hiyoshi tried to sneak quietly back into his room.
He shouldn't have bothered. Nobody was there.
Hiyoshi trailed over to his computer, feeling a bit dispirited, only to see email from Atobe.
Dear idiots,
It appears that ore-sama must hold another "team building" exercise at the estate so that the team doesn't implode. Please arrive tomorrow at six in the evening. Any latecomers will be assigned laps.
Your Buchou.
[To be continued!]