FIC: We'll Always Have Kanagawa, YukiSana, NC17 (1/4)
Title: We'll Always Have Kanagawa (1/4)
Author: Ociwen
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Yukimura/Sanada + others
Wordcount: 26 000
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Konomi Takeshi. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: Everything you can possibly imagine. Not for the weak of heart-or of mind. Spoilers for 40.5 and the entire manga series.
Summary: Sanada is a girl. Yukimura kinda likes it.
Author's notes: This is related one-shot fic to Dénoument. The fics can be read separately, but they make more sense together. Written for Yukimura's birthday 2008. Happy Birthday Yukimura!
This fic has been truncated into 4 parts due to length. The parts are NOT chapters. [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]
Comments are most welcome.
1. Beginning
A girl shows up to tennis practice and Yukimura gets all flustered.
She has a rack. She looks like Sanada, sorta, only not really. Sanada is a boy. This girl is a girl. Yukimura feels all tingly and warm inside, the way he does when Saitoh-san would give him the little cup of lunch time pills in the hospital. Saitoh-san wasn't stacked like this tennis girl, but she did have her uniform unbuttoned low enough to give a fourteen-year old boy fleshy dreams about her swollen cleavage.
Yukimura assumes the girl is a cousin of Sanada's. It would explain the resembling scowl and the shape of her nose.
Yanagi walks up to him. Yukimura turns away when he hears the girl calling his name. Her voice cracks. Yukimura frowns. His waves his racket. "Go away!" he shouts. "Girls don't play here! We don't want girl cooties! Tell your cousin no girls allowed!"
Yanagi stops walking. The girl-who-looks-like-Sanada-and-must-be-his-cousin pauses and her chest heaves. Yukimura's track pants feel tight-the girl runs away before she sees his erection.
"Um" Yanagi says.
"Um what?" Yukimura snaps. "Go do laps, Yanagi."
Yanagi closes his mouth. Yukimura sees Niou and Jackal sitting on the bench. Akaya gives them weird looks and Yagyuu is passed out on the clay court.
Marui sidles up to Yukimura. He drapes an arm over Yukimura's shoulders. Yukimura gets a whiff of sour teenage sweat. He coughs. "Today is," Marui says, "the best. day. ever."
Yukimura scrunches up his forehead. "What do you mean? Did Seigaku give back our trophy?" He thinks about the Nationals and grinds his teeth a little.
Marui shakes his head. "No," he says. He points to the bench. His voice is full of breathy wonder when he says, "Look!"
Yukimura looks. Then he looks around the court.
"Where's Sanada?"
***
He's not the best student.
Yukimura does his homework, but once the lights in the apartment hallway go dark and his parents shuffle into bed, he plugs his headphones into his tv combo and pops a video in. He keeps the DVD hidden under his mattress. It's embarrassing to think what his parents would say if they found it.
The DVD case is covered in oily fingerprints.
Night Shift Nurses.
Yukimura sets the bottle of Vaseline beside himself and pulls his pants down. His back is against the bed as he watches the nurses. They have big, fake tits that bounce as their heels clack. Yukimura rubs his dick with slick fingers. He touches his balls and thinks about Saitoh-san and the nurses on the DVD. He squeezes harder and gasps. It feels good.
Yukimura remembers the girl who looked like Sanada. She didn't have the plastic, hard look the nurses on his DVD do. Her breasts looked real and not as perky. Yukimura closes his eyes and rubs his thumb back and forth over the head of his dick. He moans under his breath and comes.
***
He skips chemistry class with a friend. The chemicals turn his stomach. It will be lunch hour next period and his bento has cold fish.
A girl rushes by in the hallway with a lunch tray. She must have early lunch period-Yukimura doesn't remember seeing her before, but she has large thighs. His friend leans over and says, "Man, her legs are like frigging tree trunks!"
Yukimura bites back a smile. The girl stiffens. She must have heard them. She hiccups and then runs off. Her thighs slap together.
Yukimura feels slightly guilty for making her cry. At practice, he gives ten laps instead of twenty. On the way home, he drops a fifty-yen coin into the box at the roadside shrine near the apartment block.
Sanada still doesn't come to tennis.
***
At first, Yukimura assumes it is an elaborate inside joke concocted by Niou and played up by Jackal and Yagyuu. He spent nearly a year in the hospital. There's no such thing as Vaginitis, although it's funny to see Akaya turn red when Yanagi talks about it.
Niou asks, "Can we shower first so that perv-" He looks in Marui's general direction, "doesn't bother us?"
"What do you mean?" Yukimura asks.
"Because we're chicks right now?" Niou offers.
"We have to pee sitting down," Jackal mutters.
Yukimura's mouth hangs open. Yanagi closes it for him.
This would explain the sports bra he found two days ago on the clubhouse floor (Yukimura assumed Marui brought a girl here).
"Akaya is very uncomfortable with the situation," Yanagi says.
Yukimura squirms too.
***
"Where's Sanada?" he asks.
"Ah, Seiichi, he…um…" Yanagi looks shifty.
Yukimura stares him down. He pokes Yanagi in the leg with his racket. "I want to play with him and he's been gone all week."
"OI!" Marui shouts. He runs up to them, grinning from ear to ear. His face is red. He can barely breathe he's wheezing so hard. He leans down on his knees and gasps. "Oh god, you guys, I just saw the HOTTEST thing ever! These two tennis club girls were FIGHTING and it was SO hot!"
"Genichirou joined the girls' tennis team," Yanagi says.
"Eh?" Yukimura says.
"Damn straight!" Marui shouts. He whoops his fist into the air. Then he collapses onto Yagyuu's sneakers.
***
Yukimura lies in bed and thinks about Sanada. He thinks about Sanada's breasts and masturbates. He closes his eyes and sees Sanada's grimace-down lower Sanada's chest rises and falls, his breasts are heavy and swollen and tight against his jacket.
Yukimura didn't know it was him.
He didn't know Sanada didn't have a cousin. Not until Jackal said so.
He wonders what Sanada would do if Yukimura unzipped that jacket and those breasts spilled out. Would Sanada make noises if Yukimura licked them and cupped his hands around the sides? Would Sanada gasp if Yukimura squeezed his breasts together all soft and gentle as he rubbed his face on them?
He rubs his face on his pillow. The cotton pillow case scratches his cheek, but the friction between his legs is sweet. He bites his lip and wonders if Sanada will come to tennis tomorrow and play a game with him.
***
Marui holds up two balls. "Look," he says.
Yukimura looks. "Tennis?"
Marui stuffs the balls up his shirt and puffs his chest out. "I'm a chick now, too!" He grins. Behind, in the waxy hibiscus bushes, Jackal groans and smacks his head.
Niou walks by. His hips sashay. His boobs jiggle. Yagyuu runs behind him and there is a trickle of blood running down from his nose. "Niou-kun!" he shouts. Yagyuu trips on his shoes. He lands face-first on the court.
Niou clicks his tongue. He rolls his eyes and smacks Marui across the chest. The balls bounce on the court beside Yagyuu's arm.
Nobody laughs-except a single freshman. Yukimura gives him fifteen extra laps.
***
The problem is that he doesn't know how to talk to girls. Yukimura thinks about it. He thinks about Sanada and how Akaya scuffs his feet more and bothers the freshmen because Sanada isn't there to put him in line.
He sits in class and listens to the Literature teacher go over the assigned reading. Yukimura didn't do it. Last night he was smashing tennis balls into a cement wall instead.
With a ballpoint, he sketches in his notebook. He draws Sanada's face, with his strong nose and square jaw, but the lines become more fluid as his pen moves down. They curve into a woman's form with round breasts and a small waist. Yukimura sets his pen down. Under his desk, he makes motions with his hands, squinting and measuring the air to see if he could wrap his hands around Sanada's waist and touch the warm, smooth skin that must be under his breasts.
At lunch, he shrugs his friends off. Yukimura shrugs the nurse off too. He stands in a stairwell on the third floor. "Hi," he says.
"It's me."
"Um, sorry, I didn't know that you were, well…like that now."
"Sorry."
The voice mail beeps. Yukimura hangs up. His hands shake.
Sanada doesn't call back.
***
"Can you tell him I'm sorry?" Yukimura says.
Yanagi nods.
***
"Can you tell Sanada I'm really sorry?" Yukimura says.
Akaya nods.
Ten minutes later, Akaya skips back. Yukimura's chest flutters. He touches his arm. A flashing fear that his disease returned crosses his mind, but he shakes it off. Akaya's face falls when he sees Yukimura.
Akaya cringes. "Fukubuchou didn't want to hear your message," he mumbles.
***
"He's in love with you," Yanagi says.
Yukimura blinks. "Pardon me?" He sets up a serve and slugs the ball across the court. Yagyuu and Niou left practice early, roughly in the direction of the tool shed behind the clubhouse. Jackal plays with Akaya. Marui has his bass guitar out instead of his racket. He has been composing songs about booty all practice.
Yanagi uses a two-handed backhand shot. Yukimura deflects it with a lob, but his aim is off. The ball arcs onto the roof. Another ball lost. Yukimura frowns.
"What are you talking about?" He rubs the back of his neck. Hot sweat smears onto his collar. "Yanagi!"
Yanagi gives him a wry smile. He leans on the metal post. The sun shines off the areas chipped of their paint. "Don't you know that?" he asks.
Yukimura huffs. "Know what?!"
"Genichirou's in love with you."
Yukimura's racket clatters on the ground. It hits his sneaker toe. He feels the impact, but not the pain.
"Surely you knew something," Yanagi says. When Yukimura doesn't answer, Yanagi chuckles. "He's had a crush on you for ages."
Yanagi pats him on the shoulder. "Now you two can have a normal relationship."
***
He sets his trowel down. The planter is filled with rich, dark earth that sinks under his fingers and smells of the forest. Yukimura breathes it in. His chest hurts.
He presses his index into the dirt once, twice. Then he draws a smile in the dirt. The apartment rooftop is sterile, all concrete and old metal, except for the small garden here. The face in the dirt is lopsided. Yukimura frowns and erases it with his palm. He draws a frown, but the face haunts him.
Sanada looking at him with big, black eyes the colour of the dirt he plays with. Sanada walking through the hallway with his big thighs that Yukimura's friend laughed at. Yukimura winces and wishes he could go back and apologize.
He mounds dirt up in the pot, one under each hand. It heaps as he cups the earth. Moisture oozes between his fingers, spreading over his sweaty skin. A gust of wind blows across the roof. It lifts Yukimura's hair up and pushes him over.
In the clay planter are two mounds, each beside the other with a valley down the middle. Yukimura swallows.
***
His heart pounds. His mouth is dry. His fingers tingle at the tips, the same way they did that day he collapsed. Yukimura breathes through the memory. The bento cloth he clutches in his hand is damp.
Sanada stands at his locker. His back is turned. The swell of his bum under a short skirt is new but his cap is the same.
Yukimura walks faster. His voice falters the first time. "Sanada!" he yells again.
Sanada's shoulders are tight. He clutches a textbook to his chest. His locker door slams shut and he rushes off. His breasts bounce. Yukimura's pants feel tight. He yells a third time, and then he runs ahead to stand in Sanada's way.
This is the first time he has seen Sanada close. Yukimura drags his eyes to Sanada's face. Sanada's eyes don't meet his. His mouth is parted, shiny with saliva. He swallows and his throat bobs. He bites his lip and a small sigh escapes.
Yukimura catches it with a hand to Sanada's arm. Sanada shivers. He touches Sanada's hand. There is a strange noise in the back of Sanada's throat-Yukimura has never heard it before.
"Sorry," he says. He runs his fingertips over Sanada's hand. The tendons shift. "I- I thought you were your cousin," he says.
"I don't have a cousin," Sanada mumbles. His lip sticks out. He sniffles.
"Yeah, Jackal told me that." Yukimura turns his head. His eyes search Sanada's. "Will you come back?"
Sanada tries to push him away. As a girl, he's strong. Yukimura stumbles back a step. Sanada's nipples harden. Yukimura can see them through his jumper. His cock is hard.
His voice is a whisper. "Will you be my girlfriend, too?"
Through an open window, a tree rustles. The first autumn leaves stir. Yukimura's chest is tight. He slips a finger between two of Sanada's, rubbing the soft skin. Sanada's chest heaves with a sob. He nods once.
***
The first day, there is no tennis. Akaya has yoga with the freshmen and juniors. Yukimura asks Sanada to meet him by the tennis courts. He bites his lip when he sees Sanada waiting on the risers in a tennis skirt.
"I thought we were…" His voice trails off. Gruff masculinity lingers underneath the feminine way Sanada tips his head down. Yukimura holds his hand. It's clammy and warm and solid. He squeezes.
They sit under the confession tree. No one is around. Yukimura apologizes with a hand on Sanada's face. He cups Sanada's cheek. The air is crisp and the ground cool. A maple leaf floats down beside them.
He presses his mouth to Sanada's. Sanada gasps and his mouth opens. Yukimura tries his tongue and licks Sanada's top lip. He doesn't taste like a girl. His lips aren't soft or sticky with lip gloss. He tastes like the cafeteria tofu special and spring onions. He opens his mouth wider. Yukimura leans closer and places a palm down for balance.
Yukimura slides his tongue into Sanada's mouth. He closes his eyes and moans. Sanada's breasts poke his chest.
***
He walks home and his mouth tingles, sharp and onion-y. Marui sends a photoshopped picture of Maria Sharapova to his cellphone. Yukimura closes the door to the toilet room and masturbates until his legs shudder and he comes on the toilet seat.
He sends Sanada a text message: I really like u
***
Sometimes Sanada tastes like macaroni salad. His tongue is warm and wet and eager. Yukimura rubs against Sanada's chest. He can feel Sanada's nipples through the layers of their clothing.
Sanada pushes him away. He wipes his mouth and scowls. His cap is on the ground. Yukimura picks it up and holds it out to him. Sanada stomps off to class. Yukimura has a swagger to his step.
He tells his parents he doesn't need the nurses at school. On Monday, they leave.
***
Sanada's home is in the middle of a forest, surrounded by fragrant pines and scarlet maples. Yukimura walks slowly. Sanada's sneakers crunch on the pavement-the road is cracked in the middle and studded with potholes. When he was smaller, Yukimura had a habit of jumping over each one.
They hold hands. Sanada's fingers are cold. He shivers. Yukimura glances down. Sanada wears a bulky sweater, but it doesn't hide the bounce of his breasts. He smells like the soap he uses in the clubhouse showers. His hair is wet and his breath cloudy.
Yukimura waits until they turn a corner, past the roadside shrine filled with wilting flowers and a stone statue covered in a paper garland of folded cranes. "Are you cold?" he asks.
Sanada says nothing. Yukimura pauses. He drapes his coat over Sanada's shoulders. He pulls Sanada close to his side. They walk. Sanada is stiff and looks at his feet. A car drives by and honks at them.
"Stupid brother," Sanada grumbles.
They say goodbye at his gate. Sanada's brother wolf-whistles. Sanada ducks his head and gives Yukimura back his coat.
At the train station, Yukimura pops the collar where Sanada's wet hair dripped. He smells the soap and the woodsy deodorant and falls asleep one stop later.
***
After a shower, Sanada's skin is flushed pink. Yukimura thinks about the poems they study in literature class, metaphors and ephemera and swirls of cherry blossoms, sweet on the spring air. The winter settles in. His toes are cold in his sneakers. He wraps a scarf around his neck and waits.
Sanada doesn't wear makeup. There is nothing to hide his blushes when Yukimura says "Your form looked really good this afternoon."
Sanada never blushed this much before, but he was never a girl before either.
His friends snicker and ask if he's gay for dating a boy who is now a girl. Yukimura tells them to piss off. He thinks about this and holds Sanada's hand. Their mittens slip and the sky is grey and gloomy, but it hasn't rained yet tonight.
At the gate, Yukimura sighs. "Good night," he says.
Sanada shakes his head.
Yukimura's heart flutters. His dick throbs. Sanada blushes. Yukimura's throat is thick and dry.
No one is home at Sanada's, or in the dojo. The floor is cold and his socks have holes. The tatami smells like sweetgrass and there is a bamboo plant on the shelf by the sheathed swords. Sanada wears a hakama. The top pulls over his chest and gapes between his breasts. Yukimura cranes his neck.
There is a fish pond through the window and the paper screens. The water tinkles away the time. It's too cold for frogs. Even the koi are sluggish. Yukimura's pulse throbs as Sanada cuts down a straw dummy. Little filaments settle in the air. His hips sway.
Yukimura stands and places his hand on Sanada's hip. Sanada stiffens. The sword goes slack in his hand. Yukimura touches his thigh and the shirt of his hakama, pulling it apart as he kisses Sanada hard. He rubs his dick on Sanada's thigh.
See how much I want you?
His fingers fumble. The sword clinks on the floor. Yukimura digs deeper-he can feel the heat of Sanada's body, so close under the layers of his hakama. At the touch of searing skin, he hisses and bites Sanada's lip.
Sanada slaps him.
"Go home!" he shouts. "We- we're too young for this!"
Yukimura covers his mouth with his hand. He can taste blood trickling down from his nose.
Sanada runs off. Yukimura can hear a cry, but not the sound of the dojo door closing.
He shuts it when he leaves.
***
What they don't say with words, they say through the tennis balls.
Smash.
Lob.
Smash.
Lob.
Smash.
Volley.
Hesitation. Two-hand return.
Lob.
Drop shot.
Sanada pants. He takes the point.
But Yukimura takes the game. He waits for Sanada outside the clubhouse. Sanada emerges with wet hair and a flush staining his cheeks. He licks his lips.
Sanada's kiss tastes of mandarin oranges, fresh and sharp. The first oranges of the season came out in the stores this week.
***
Yukimura rearranges the plants on the stand in the main room. Jade plant on the bottom, and aloe vera too. Cactus in the middle-the arms droop, pregnant with Christmas buds that will bloom red. Spider plant and orchid on top. Yukimura sniffs the delicate flower. He runs his finger along the edge of the petal.
Sanada's skin is softer.
He masturbates in the shower before bed, back pressed to the slick tile wall. He's been hard all night. Yukimura closes his eyes. Sanada stands there, dark eyes lifting to his as the towel slips from his hand. "Yukimura…" he mouths.
Yukimura shudders. He cups his balls, rolling them in his palm before squeezing his dick again. He licks his lips. Sanada's towel drifts lower down, over the round swell of the tops of his breasts, down to where Yukimura can almost see where his nipples should be and-
"Ah!"
He slumps to the floor. His dick pulses. His hand is sticky and smells musky. Yukimura wipes his hand on his knee. Water pounds down and washes his come away.
He doesn't know what colour Sanada's nipples are.
***
On Christmas Eve, they play tennis on the indoor courts of the university gymnasium. Yukimura's sneakers squeak on the hard floor. Sanada's skirt flies up. Yukimura sees Sanada's underpants.
Y-fronts.
Just like before.
He frowns through a lob. Sanada fixes the back of his bra and returns the ball with a volley.
They hold hands on the walk home. Sanada doesn't say much. His teeth chatter, but Yukimura can't see anything through his thick wool coat. The shadows are long and deep and lonely outside Sanada's home. His breath puffs in the air. Puddles are frosted along the edges and the muddy path is hard.
Sanada leans close and kisses Yukimura first. His lips are cold, but his tongue is hot. Yukimura slides his tongue over Sanada's teeth. Sanada moans and the noise sends a shiver down Yukimura's spine. He presses his hands to either side of Sanada's head-against the cement fence-and kisses until they both pull away and pant.
On the bus back to his apartment, Yukimura thinks he needs a morphine drip. His balls ache.
***
Niou and Yagyuu are having sex in the storage shed.
Yukimura opens the door to get a basket of balls for Urayama Shiita and some of the other first years. The light is off, but the walls shake. His jaw drops.
Niou folds his skirt down, pulls up his underpants and climbs off Yagyuu. Yagyuu pulls his track pants up. "Um."
Niou's face is on fire.
Yukimura walks back to the courts. Sanada looks at him and frowns. He is wearing his old black hat over a wool toque.
"Buchou, did you get the balls?" Urayama asks. Yukimura stares at him.
After, he asks Niou. "You can do it standing up?"
Niou plays with his rat tail. "You didn't know that?"
Yukimura is silent. Niou's face breaks into a grin and he chuckles. "I thought you guys were totally doing it and Sanada just was as boring in bed as he is usually."
If Niou wasn't a girl, Yukimura might swat his ear. "Shut up," he mumbles.
During lunch the next day, Yukimura unbuttons Sanada's blouse. They are in the greenhouse on the rooftop. No one comes here in the middle of winter, but the garden is warm and steamy. Sanada's body leaves an imprint on the glass wall.
Yukimura licks Sanada's neck. He tastes salty and his skin is warm and soft-there is no hint that he used to be a boy, not when Yukimura closes his eyes and nuzzles Sanada's chin. Sanada lets Yukimura push his blouse open.
Yukimura's stomach flips over. His erection pokes Sanada's thigh. Sanada squeezes his legs around Yukimura and rubs back. Yukimura is in heaven. He licks the top of Sanada's breasts and presses dry kisses all over. They move as Sanada inhales. The skin is softer than anything: silk, tofu, even Sanada's tongue when they kiss again.
Yukimura cups a breast and thumbs Sanada's bra. It is white and boring and the material is thick. He can feel the impression of Sanada's nipples and their hardness against his palms. Yukimura shudders. He gasps and rubs harder. Sanada says stop. He doesn't.
He comes on Sanada's leg. When he realizes what he's done, Yukimura's eyes widen. He says he's sorry. His pants are sticky and Sanada's face is white.
"It's okay," Sanada says. A hand wraps around Yukimura's head and touches the back of his scalp. Sanada's heart beats against his cheek. Yukimura sighs.
***
He returns the favour on Valentine's Day.
Sanada's face is beautiful when he comes. His face twists in pleasure. Yukimura is grateful that no makeup hides Sanada's flush.
He pulls his finger out and licks it. The taste is strange and bitter. Sanada's cheeks darken to crimson. They are the same colour as the heart-shaped box of Giri Choco sitting on the washitsu floor.
***
Akaya asks Yukimura if the clubhouse needs cleaning. He looks shifty. He scuffs his sneaker on the floor and moves a dust bunny around.
Yukimura buttons his shirt. "Why?"
"Cuz, I'd do if for 1000 yen," he mumbles. He looks up and his throat bobs. "I'd clean it all, honest."
Yukimura opens his mouth. Yanagi cuts in and looks at Akaya. "The clubhouse looks fine to me," he says.
Akaya's face twists. He frowns.
Yukimura scratches his head. His headband needs to be washed.
***
Yukimura will be fifteen. High school starts next month. Girls are allowed to play on the boys' tennis team: he's called three times to confirm this.
He tells Sanada. Sanada grunts. He pulls at the brim of his cap. Yukimura pushes it back up and flicks it off. "Well?" he asks.
Sanada ducks his head, but he's smiling.
***
Marui plays a game with him. Yukimura wins. The air smells like spring, cool and crisp and grassy. The plum blossoms are in bloom, rich pink in the parks. Their petals float on the breezes.
It's his birthday today. Sanada kissed him at lunch in the washitsu and let Yukimura slip a hand down his underpants. Sanada even jerked him off-clothes removed piecemeal, mutual pleasure, kisses sloppy and slimy. Yukimura likes all this, but it's not enough.
He daydreams about kissing Sanada's nipples. He wants more than biting them through Sanada's bra.
He picks his nose and wipes it with the sleeve of his tennis jacket. "Jackal still won't date me," Marui moans. "It doesn't matter if I'm a genius in bed-"
"No proof of that," Niou mutters. Marui glares. Niou starts to say something more. Then he doubles over to clutch his stomach. "Cramps," he says. "Puri…"
Yagyuu escorts Niou home. Marui lingers in the clubhouse until Jackal agrees to go for coffee.
"A date!" Marui says.
"Not a date," Jackal says. "Just coffee."
Akaya gets changed. He chews his nails. Yukimura can see a hangnail bleeding. He tells Yanagi to get a bandaid. They leave too, because there are no more bandaids in the clubhouse first aid kit.
Usually, now, Yukimura would walk outside and wait for Sanada. The ground is soft and the tennis nets are taught. Sanada mumbles something and shuffles into the showers, fully-dressed.
Yukimura swallows. He opens the door and closes it, but he doesn't leave the room. Sanada disappears behind a divider wall. Yukimura waits inside. He breathes. He wrings his fingers on the hem of his jacket. His heart pounds. His dick is on fire.
Sanada sings in the shower.
Steam curls around Yukimura. He doesn't think anymore, not when he sees Sanada pad towards him. A towel wraps tight around his body. It skims the top of his thigh where there are patchy dark hairs.
Yukimura pounces. He stops Sanada with a kiss and touches the fold of the towel.
Today, give this to me today…
His breasts are pink, flushed like his face and the plum blossoms outside. His nipples are pinkish-brown. Yukimura's mouth is dry. He fingers Sanada's cunt-he's slick and slippery. His breasts heave when Yukimura pushes him down to one of the old wooden benches. Sanada says nothing. He gasps. He whimpers. Yukimura pulls his clothes off and he nearly comes when his underpants catch on his dick. It pulses on Sanada's thigh.
He doesn't need to think. All he needs to do is lick a saliva trail across Sanada's nipples and thrust forward. Sanada sucks in a breath and squeezes his cunt. Yukimura sees stars. He comes inside Sanada in one, two, three shallow shudders that spill his semen.
"I can't get you pregnant," he mutters. "Don't worry."
Sanada is silent. He doesn't resist when Yukimura fucks him a second time against his locker door. He doesn't kiss back, either.
He dresses. Yukimura laments seeing Sanada's breasts-covered in faint bruises and shiny remnants of kisses,--disappear into his bra. His own body is boneless. His muscles throb faintly in new places. He walks on air when they leave the clubhouse.
Sex is better than the best tennis game. At least all those he's played so far.
They don't speak at the bus stop. Sanada rushes onto the first bus. "I have to get cat food," he says. "Don't come with me."
Yukimura lies awake that night. The aftertaste of his birthday cake is bitter.
***
Sanada won't speak to him.
No textmessages.
No calls.
No notes.
Not a word at tennis practice, either.
Yukimura frowns. Sex is simple, natural-his biology textbook says so. This cold silence is unnatural.
He slams balls into the cement wall opposite the apartment block. Burned rubber stings his nose. Frustration stings his eyes.
"I did it wrong," he mumbles. Yukimura sits on a cement pylon in the parking lot. His racket clatters on the ground. He watches the cars and lorries zoom past, flashes of white and red lights under the glowing street lamps. His throat is thick.
A sakura petal dances across the pavement. It is wilted and dirty.
He thinks of Sanada and his body is numb.
***
Yukimura has a choice: tennis, or Sanada.
It costs his entire savings. No new racket.
He picks it out on his own and the shopgirl wraps it up in pink tissue paper in a small box. It is a week after White Day-school will be out on Friday.
Yukimura sits on the window ledge and waits. He swings his legs back and forth. His heart flutters, the same as the delicate green leaves on the maples and willows on campus. Sanada pauses on a step. He starts to turn but Yukimura calls his name. The box is clammy in his palm.
Sanada sits. He stares at his feet. His face burns.
Yukimura asks if he did it wrong. Sanada shakes his head. Yukimura takes a deep breath. "You keep ignoring me. I don't know what to do."
Sanada makes a noise. It twists Yukimura's heart. His face flushes and there is a sheen of tears in the corner of his eyes. Yukimura wipes them away. His thumb shakes. Sanada doesn't notice.
"Sanada," he says. "It's okay to change and be different. You're still the same to me. I like you-even if you were a toad."
Sanada chokes. Yukimura cringes. Maybe it wasn't quite the right thing to say. He presses the box into Sanada's palm before he says anything else stupid. He tells Sanada he's beautiful, that he's the prettiest girl and the best at tennis-it's not a lie. Yukimura's stomach is hot. The expression on Sanada's face is beautiful: the pout of his lips, the pink stain on his cheeks, his black eyes that refuse to meet Yukimura's.
The pin is beautiful in Sanada's hair, gleaming enamel on his shiny black hair. Yukimura bites his lip. His erection pokes his pants. He shifts his legs a bit wider and touches Sanada's cheek, his fingers drifting to Sanada's chin to tilt his head up.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks.
Sanada lifts his eyes. The look in his pupils is hot. Yukimura's heart drops to the floor, but Sanada picks it up with parted lips and kisses it back.
Author: Ociwen
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Yukimura/Sanada + others
Wordcount: 26 000
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Konomi Takeshi. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: Everything you can possibly imagine. Not for the weak of heart-or of mind. Spoilers for 40.5 and the entire manga series.
Summary: Sanada is a girl. Yukimura kinda likes it.
Author's notes: This is related one-shot fic to Dénoument. The fics can be read separately, but they make more sense together. Written for Yukimura's birthday 2008. Happy Birthday Yukimura!
This fic has been truncated into 4 parts due to length. The parts are NOT chapters. [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]
Comments are most welcome.
1. Beginning
A girl shows up to tennis practice and Yukimura gets all flustered.
She has a rack. She looks like Sanada, sorta, only not really. Sanada is a boy. This girl is a girl. Yukimura feels all tingly and warm inside, the way he does when Saitoh-san would give him the little cup of lunch time pills in the hospital. Saitoh-san wasn't stacked like this tennis girl, but she did have her uniform unbuttoned low enough to give a fourteen-year old boy fleshy dreams about her swollen cleavage.
Yukimura assumes the girl is a cousin of Sanada's. It would explain the resembling scowl and the shape of her nose.
Yanagi walks up to him. Yukimura turns away when he hears the girl calling his name. Her voice cracks. Yukimura frowns. His waves his racket. "Go away!" he shouts. "Girls don't play here! We don't want girl cooties! Tell your cousin no girls allowed!"
Yanagi stops walking. The girl-who-looks-like-Sanada-and-must-be-his-cousin pauses and her chest heaves. Yukimura's track pants feel tight-the girl runs away before she sees his erection.
"Um" Yanagi says.
"Um what?" Yukimura snaps. "Go do laps, Yanagi."
Yanagi closes his mouth. Yukimura sees Niou and Jackal sitting on the bench. Akaya gives them weird looks and Yagyuu is passed out on the clay court.
Marui sidles up to Yukimura. He drapes an arm over Yukimura's shoulders. Yukimura gets a whiff of sour teenage sweat. He coughs. "Today is," Marui says, "the best. day. ever."
Yukimura scrunches up his forehead. "What do you mean? Did Seigaku give back our trophy?" He thinks about the Nationals and grinds his teeth a little.
Marui shakes his head. "No," he says. He points to the bench. His voice is full of breathy wonder when he says, "Look!"
Yukimura looks. Then he looks around the court.
"Where's Sanada?"
***
He's not the best student.
Yukimura does his homework, but once the lights in the apartment hallway go dark and his parents shuffle into bed, he plugs his headphones into his tv combo and pops a video in. He keeps the DVD hidden under his mattress. It's embarrassing to think what his parents would say if they found it.
The DVD case is covered in oily fingerprints.
Night Shift Nurses.
Yukimura sets the bottle of Vaseline beside himself and pulls his pants down. His back is against the bed as he watches the nurses. They have big, fake tits that bounce as their heels clack. Yukimura rubs his dick with slick fingers. He touches his balls and thinks about Saitoh-san and the nurses on the DVD. He squeezes harder and gasps. It feels good.
Yukimura remembers the girl who looked like Sanada. She didn't have the plastic, hard look the nurses on his DVD do. Her breasts looked real and not as perky. Yukimura closes his eyes and rubs his thumb back and forth over the head of his dick. He moans under his breath and comes.
***
He skips chemistry class with a friend. The chemicals turn his stomach. It will be lunch hour next period and his bento has cold fish.
A girl rushes by in the hallway with a lunch tray. She must have early lunch period-Yukimura doesn't remember seeing her before, but she has large thighs. His friend leans over and says, "Man, her legs are like frigging tree trunks!"
Yukimura bites back a smile. The girl stiffens. She must have heard them. She hiccups and then runs off. Her thighs slap together.
Yukimura feels slightly guilty for making her cry. At practice, he gives ten laps instead of twenty. On the way home, he drops a fifty-yen coin into the box at the roadside shrine near the apartment block.
Sanada still doesn't come to tennis.
***
At first, Yukimura assumes it is an elaborate inside joke concocted by Niou and played up by Jackal and Yagyuu. He spent nearly a year in the hospital. There's no such thing as Vaginitis, although it's funny to see Akaya turn red when Yanagi talks about it.
Niou asks, "Can we shower first so that perv-" He looks in Marui's general direction, "doesn't bother us?"
"What do you mean?" Yukimura asks.
"Because we're chicks right now?" Niou offers.
"We have to pee sitting down," Jackal mutters.
Yukimura's mouth hangs open. Yanagi closes it for him.
This would explain the sports bra he found two days ago on the clubhouse floor (Yukimura assumed Marui brought a girl here).
"Akaya is very uncomfortable with the situation," Yanagi says.
Yukimura squirms too.
***
"Where's Sanada?" he asks.
"Ah, Seiichi, he…um…" Yanagi looks shifty.
Yukimura stares him down. He pokes Yanagi in the leg with his racket. "I want to play with him and he's been gone all week."
"OI!" Marui shouts. He runs up to them, grinning from ear to ear. His face is red. He can barely breathe he's wheezing so hard. He leans down on his knees and gasps. "Oh god, you guys, I just saw the HOTTEST thing ever! These two tennis club girls were FIGHTING and it was SO hot!"
"Genichirou joined the girls' tennis team," Yanagi says.
"Eh?" Yukimura says.
"Damn straight!" Marui shouts. He whoops his fist into the air. Then he collapses onto Yagyuu's sneakers.
***
Yukimura lies in bed and thinks about Sanada. He thinks about Sanada's breasts and masturbates. He closes his eyes and sees Sanada's grimace-down lower Sanada's chest rises and falls, his breasts are heavy and swollen and tight against his jacket.
Yukimura didn't know it was him.
He didn't know Sanada didn't have a cousin. Not until Jackal said so.
He wonders what Sanada would do if Yukimura unzipped that jacket and those breasts spilled out. Would Sanada make noises if Yukimura licked them and cupped his hands around the sides? Would Sanada gasp if Yukimura squeezed his breasts together all soft and gentle as he rubbed his face on them?
He rubs his face on his pillow. The cotton pillow case scratches his cheek, but the friction between his legs is sweet. He bites his lip and wonders if Sanada will come to tennis tomorrow and play a game with him.
***
Marui holds up two balls. "Look," he says.
Yukimura looks. "Tennis?"
Marui stuffs the balls up his shirt and puffs his chest out. "I'm a chick now, too!" He grins. Behind, in the waxy hibiscus bushes, Jackal groans and smacks his head.
Niou walks by. His hips sashay. His boobs jiggle. Yagyuu runs behind him and there is a trickle of blood running down from his nose. "Niou-kun!" he shouts. Yagyuu trips on his shoes. He lands face-first on the court.
Niou clicks his tongue. He rolls his eyes and smacks Marui across the chest. The balls bounce on the court beside Yagyuu's arm.
Nobody laughs-except a single freshman. Yukimura gives him fifteen extra laps.
***
The problem is that he doesn't know how to talk to girls. Yukimura thinks about it. He thinks about Sanada and how Akaya scuffs his feet more and bothers the freshmen because Sanada isn't there to put him in line.
He sits in class and listens to the Literature teacher go over the assigned reading. Yukimura didn't do it. Last night he was smashing tennis balls into a cement wall instead.
With a ballpoint, he sketches in his notebook. He draws Sanada's face, with his strong nose and square jaw, but the lines become more fluid as his pen moves down. They curve into a woman's form with round breasts and a small waist. Yukimura sets his pen down. Under his desk, he makes motions with his hands, squinting and measuring the air to see if he could wrap his hands around Sanada's waist and touch the warm, smooth skin that must be under his breasts.
At lunch, he shrugs his friends off. Yukimura shrugs the nurse off too. He stands in a stairwell on the third floor. "Hi," he says.
"It's me."
"Um, sorry, I didn't know that you were, well…like that now."
"Sorry."
The voice mail beeps. Yukimura hangs up. His hands shake.
Sanada doesn't call back.
***
"Can you tell him I'm sorry?" Yukimura says.
Yanagi nods.
***
"Can you tell Sanada I'm really sorry?" Yukimura says.
Akaya nods.
Ten minutes later, Akaya skips back. Yukimura's chest flutters. He touches his arm. A flashing fear that his disease returned crosses his mind, but he shakes it off. Akaya's face falls when he sees Yukimura.
Akaya cringes. "Fukubuchou didn't want to hear your message," he mumbles.
***
"He's in love with you," Yanagi says.
Yukimura blinks. "Pardon me?" He sets up a serve and slugs the ball across the court. Yagyuu and Niou left practice early, roughly in the direction of the tool shed behind the clubhouse. Jackal plays with Akaya. Marui has his bass guitar out instead of his racket. He has been composing songs about booty all practice.
Yanagi uses a two-handed backhand shot. Yukimura deflects it with a lob, but his aim is off. The ball arcs onto the roof. Another ball lost. Yukimura frowns.
"What are you talking about?" He rubs the back of his neck. Hot sweat smears onto his collar. "Yanagi!"
Yanagi gives him a wry smile. He leans on the metal post. The sun shines off the areas chipped of their paint. "Don't you know that?" he asks.
Yukimura huffs. "Know what?!"
"Genichirou's in love with you."
Yukimura's racket clatters on the ground. It hits his sneaker toe. He feels the impact, but not the pain.
"Surely you knew something," Yanagi says. When Yukimura doesn't answer, Yanagi chuckles. "He's had a crush on you for ages."
Yanagi pats him on the shoulder. "Now you two can have a normal relationship."
***
He sets his trowel down. The planter is filled with rich, dark earth that sinks under his fingers and smells of the forest. Yukimura breathes it in. His chest hurts.
He presses his index into the dirt once, twice. Then he draws a smile in the dirt. The apartment rooftop is sterile, all concrete and old metal, except for the small garden here. The face in the dirt is lopsided. Yukimura frowns and erases it with his palm. He draws a frown, but the face haunts him.
Sanada looking at him with big, black eyes the colour of the dirt he plays with. Sanada walking through the hallway with his big thighs that Yukimura's friend laughed at. Yukimura winces and wishes he could go back and apologize.
He mounds dirt up in the pot, one under each hand. It heaps as he cups the earth. Moisture oozes between his fingers, spreading over his sweaty skin. A gust of wind blows across the roof. It lifts Yukimura's hair up and pushes him over.
In the clay planter are two mounds, each beside the other with a valley down the middle. Yukimura swallows.
***
His heart pounds. His mouth is dry. His fingers tingle at the tips, the same way they did that day he collapsed. Yukimura breathes through the memory. The bento cloth he clutches in his hand is damp.
Sanada stands at his locker. His back is turned. The swell of his bum under a short skirt is new but his cap is the same.
Yukimura walks faster. His voice falters the first time. "Sanada!" he yells again.
Sanada's shoulders are tight. He clutches a textbook to his chest. His locker door slams shut and he rushes off. His breasts bounce. Yukimura's pants feel tight. He yells a third time, and then he runs ahead to stand in Sanada's way.
This is the first time he has seen Sanada close. Yukimura drags his eyes to Sanada's face. Sanada's eyes don't meet his. His mouth is parted, shiny with saliva. He swallows and his throat bobs. He bites his lip and a small sigh escapes.
Yukimura catches it with a hand to Sanada's arm. Sanada shivers. He touches Sanada's hand. There is a strange noise in the back of Sanada's throat-Yukimura has never heard it before.
"Sorry," he says. He runs his fingertips over Sanada's hand. The tendons shift. "I- I thought you were your cousin," he says.
"I don't have a cousin," Sanada mumbles. His lip sticks out. He sniffles.
"Yeah, Jackal told me that." Yukimura turns his head. His eyes search Sanada's. "Will you come back?"
Sanada tries to push him away. As a girl, he's strong. Yukimura stumbles back a step. Sanada's nipples harden. Yukimura can see them through his jumper. His cock is hard.
His voice is a whisper. "Will you be my girlfriend, too?"
Through an open window, a tree rustles. The first autumn leaves stir. Yukimura's chest is tight. He slips a finger between two of Sanada's, rubbing the soft skin. Sanada's chest heaves with a sob. He nods once.
***
The first day, there is no tennis. Akaya has yoga with the freshmen and juniors. Yukimura asks Sanada to meet him by the tennis courts. He bites his lip when he sees Sanada waiting on the risers in a tennis skirt.
"I thought we were…" His voice trails off. Gruff masculinity lingers underneath the feminine way Sanada tips his head down. Yukimura holds his hand. It's clammy and warm and solid. He squeezes.
They sit under the confession tree. No one is around. Yukimura apologizes with a hand on Sanada's face. He cups Sanada's cheek. The air is crisp and the ground cool. A maple leaf floats down beside them.
He presses his mouth to Sanada's. Sanada gasps and his mouth opens. Yukimura tries his tongue and licks Sanada's top lip. He doesn't taste like a girl. His lips aren't soft or sticky with lip gloss. He tastes like the cafeteria tofu special and spring onions. He opens his mouth wider. Yukimura leans closer and places a palm down for balance.
Yukimura slides his tongue into Sanada's mouth. He closes his eyes and moans. Sanada's breasts poke his chest.
***
He walks home and his mouth tingles, sharp and onion-y. Marui sends a photoshopped picture of Maria Sharapova to his cellphone. Yukimura closes the door to the toilet room and masturbates until his legs shudder and he comes on the toilet seat.
He sends Sanada a text message: I really like u
***
Sometimes Sanada tastes like macaroni salad. His tongue is warm and wet and eager. Yukimura rubs against Sanada's chest. He can feel Sanada's nipples through the layers of their clothing.
Sanada pushes him away. He wipes his mouth and scowls. His cap is on the ground. Yukimura picks it up and holds it out to him. Sanada stomps off to class. Yukimura has a swagger to his step.
He tells his parents he doesn't need the nurses at school. On Monday, they leave.
***
Sanada's home is in the middle of a forest, surrounded by fragrant pines and scarlet maples. Yukimura walks slowly. Sanada's sneakers crunch on the pavement-the road is cracked in the middle and studded with potholes. When he was smaller, Yukimura had a habit of jumping over each one.
They hold hands. Sanada's fingers are cold. He shivers. Yukimura glances down. Sanada wears a bulky sweater, but it doesn't hide the bounce of his breasts. He smells like the soap he uses in the clubhouse showers. His hair is wet and his breath cloudy.
Yukimura waits until they turn a corner, past the roadside shrine filled with wilting flowers and a stone statue covered in a paper garland of folded cranes. "Are you cold?" he asks.
Sanada says nothing. Yukimura pauses. He drapes his coat over Sanada's shoulders. He pulls Sanada close to his side. They walk. Sanada is stiff and looks at his feet. A car drives by and honks at them.
"Stupid brother," Sanada grumbles.
They say goodbye at his gate. Sanada's brother wolf-whistles. Sanada ducks his head and gives Yukimura back his coat.
At the train station, Yukimura pops the collar where Sanada's wet hair dripped. He smells the soap and the woodsy deodorant and falls asleep one stop later.
***
After a shower, Sanada's skin is flushed pink. Yukimura thinks about the poems they study in literature class, metaphors and ephemera and swirls of cherry blossoms, sweet on the spring air. The winter settles in. His toes are cold in his sneakers. He wraps a scarf around his neck and waits.
Sanada doesn't wear makeup. There is nothing to hide his blushes when Yukimura says "Your form looked really good this afternoon."
Sanada never blushed this much before, but he was never a girl before either.
His friends snicker and ask if he's gay for dating a boy who is now a girl. Yukimura tells them to piss off. He thinks about this and holds Sanada's hand. Their mittens slip and the sky is grey and gloomy, but it hasn't rained yet tonight.
At the gate, Yukimura sighs. "Good night," he says.
Sanada shakes his head.
Yukimura's heart flutters. His dick throbs. Sanada blushes. Yukimura's throat is thick and dry.
No one is home at Sanada's, or in the dojo. The floor is cold and his socks have holes. The tatami smells like sweetgrass and there is a bamboo plant on the shelf by the sheathed swords. Sanada wears a hakama. The top pulls over his chest and gapes between his breasts. Yukimura cranes his neck.
There is a fish pond through the window and the paper screens. The water tinkles away the time. It's too cold for frogs. Even the koi are sluggish. Yukimura's pulse throbs as Sanada cuts down a straw dummy. Little filaments settle in the air. His hips sway.
Yukimura stands and places his hand on Sanada's hip. Sanada stiffens. The sword goes slack in his hand. Yukimura touches his thigh and the shirt of his hakama, pulling it apart as he kisses Sanada hard. He rubs his dick on Sanada's thigh.
See how much I want you?
His fingers fumble. The sword clinks on the floor. Yukimura digs deeper-he can feel the heat of Sanada's body, so close under the layers of his hakama. At the touch of searing skin, he hisses and bites Sanada's lip.
Sanada slaps him.
"Go home!" he shouts. "We- we're too young for this!"
Yukimura covers his mouth with his hand. He can taste blood trickling down from his nose.
Sanada runs off. Yukimura can hear a cry, but not the sound of the dojo door closing.
He shuts it when he leaves.
***
What they don't say with words, they say through the tennis balls.
Smash.
Lob.
Smash.
Lob.
Smash.
Volley.
Hesitation. Two-hand return.
Lob.
Drop shot.
Sanada pants. He takes the point.
But Yukimura takes the game. He waits for Sanada outside the clubhouse. Sanada emerges with wet hair and a flush staining his cheeks. He licks his lips.
Sanada's kiss tastes of mandarin oranges, fresh and sharp. The first oranges of the season came out in the stores this week.
***
Yukimura rearranges the plants on the stand in the main room. Jade plant on the bottom, and aloe vera too. Cactus in the middle-the arms droop, pregnant with Christmas buds that will bloom red. Spider plant and orchid on top. Yukimura sniffs the delicate flower. He runs his finger along the edge of the petal.
Sanada's skin is softer.
He masturbates in the shower before bed, back pressed to the slick tile wall. He's been hard all night. Yukimura closes his eyes. Sanada stands there, dark eyes lifting to his as the towel slips from his hand. "Yukimura…" he mouths.
Yukimura shudders. He cups his balls, rolling them in his palm before squeezing his dick again. He licks his lips. Sanada's towel drifts lower down, over the round swell of the tops of his breasts, down to where Yukimura can almost see where his nipples should be and-
"Ah!"
He slumps to the floor. His dick pulses. His hand is sticky and smells musky. Yukimura wipes his hand on his knee. Water pounds down and washes his come away.
He doesn't know what colour Sanada's nipples are.
***
On Christmas Eve, they play tennis on the indoor courts of the university gymnasium. Yukimura's sneakers squeak on the hard floor. Sanada's skirt flies up. Yukimura sees Sanada's underpants.
Y-fronts.
Just like before.
He frowns through a lob. Sanada fixes the back of his bra and returns the ball with a volley.
They hold hands on the walk home. Sanada doesn't say much. His teeth chatter, but Yukimura can't see anything through his thick wool coat. The shadows are long and deep and lonely outside Sanada's home. His breath puffs in the air. Puddles are frosted along the edges and the muddy path is hard.
Sanada leans close and kisses Yukimura first. His lips are cold, but his tongue is hot. Yukimura slides his tongue over Sanada's teeth. Sanada moans and the noise sends a shiver down Yukimura's spine. He presses his hands to either side of Sanada's head-against the cement fence-and kisses until they both pull away and pant.
On the bus back to his apartment, Yukimura thinks he needs a morphine drip. His balls ache.
***
Niou and Yagyuu are having sex in the storage shed.
Yukimura opens the door to get a basket of balls for Urayama Shiita and some of the other first years. The light is off, but the walls shake. His jaw drops.
Niou folds his skirt down, pulls up his underpants and climbs off Yagyuu. Yagyuu pulls his track pants up. "Um."
Niou's face is on fire.
Yukimura walks back to the courts. Sanada looks at him and frowns. He is wearing his old black hat over a wool toque.
"Buchou, did you get the balls?" Urayama asks. Yukimura stares at him.
After, he asks Niou. "You can do it standing up?"
Niou plays with his rat tail. "You didn't know that?"
Yukimura is silent. Niou's face breaks into a grin and he chuckles. "I thought you guys were totally doing it and Sanada just was as boring in bed as he is usually."
If Niou wasn't a girl, Yukimura might swat his ear. "Shut up," he mumbles.
During lunch the next day, Yukimura unbuttons Sanada's blouse. They are in the greenhouse on the rooftop. No one comes here in the middle of winter, but the garden is warm and steamy. Sanada's body leaves an imprint on the glass wall.
Yukimura licks Sanada's neck. He tastes salty and his skin is warm and soft-there is no hint that he used to be a boy, not when Yukimura closes his eyes and nuzzles Sanada's chin. Sanada lets Yukimura push his blouse open.
Yukimura's stomach flips over. His erection pokes Sanada's thigh. Sanada squeezes his legs around Yukimura and rubs back. Yukimura is in heaven. He licks the top of Sanada's breasts and presses dry kisses all over. They move as Sanada inhales. The skin is softer than anything: silk, tofu, even Sanada's tongue when they kiss again.
Yukimura cups a breast and thumbs Sanada's bra. It is white and boring and the material is thick. He can feel the impression of Sanada's nipples and their hardness against his palms. Yukimura shudders. He gasps and rubs harder. Sanada says stop. He doesn't.
He comes on Sanada's leg. When he realizes what he's done, Yukimura's eyes widen. He says he's sorry. His pants are sticky and Sanada's face is white.
"It's okay," Sanada says. A hand wraps around Yukimura's head and touches the back of his scalp. Sanada's heart beats against his cheek. Yukimura sighs.
***
He returns the favour on Valentine's Day.
Sanada's face is beautiful when he comes. His face twists in pleasure. Yukimura is grateful that no makeup hides Sanada's flush.
He pulls his finger out and licks it. The taste is strange and bitter. Sanada's cheeks darken to crimson. They are the same colour as the heart-shaped box of Giri Choco sitting on the washitsu floor.
***
Akaya asks Yukimura if the clubhouse needs cleaning. He looks shifty. He scuffs his sneaker on the floor and moves a dust bunny around.
Yukimura buttons his shirt. "Why?"
"Cuz, I'd do if for 1000 yen," he mumbles. He looks up and his throat bobs. "I'd clean it all, honest."
Yukimura opens his mouth. Yanagi cuts in and looks at Akaya. "The clubhouse looks fine to me," he says.
Akaya's face twists. He frowns.
Yukimura scratches his head. His headband needs to be washed.
***
Yukimura will be fifteen. High school starts next month. Girls are allowed to play on the boys' tennis team: he's called three times to confirm this.
He tells Sanada. Sanada grunts. He pulls at the brim of his cap. Yukimura pushes it back up and flicks it off. "Well?" he asks.
Sanada ducks his head, but he's smiling.
***
Marui plays a game with him. Yukimura wins. The air smells like spring, cool and crisp and grassy. The plum blossoms are in bloom, rich pink in the parks. Their petals float on the breezes.
It's his birthday today. Sanada kissed him at lunch in the washitsu and let Yukimura slip a hand down his underpants. Sanada even jerked him off-clothes removed piecemeal, mutual pleasure, kisses sloppy and slimy. Yukimura likes all this, but it's not enough.
He daydreams about kissing Sanada's nipples. He wants more than biting them through Sanada's bra.
He picks his nose and wipes it with the sleeve of his tennis jacket. "Jackal still won't date me," Marui moans. "It doesn't matter if I'm a genius in bed-"
"No proof of that," Niou mutters. Marui glares. Niou starts to say something more. Then he doubles over to clutch his stomach. "Cramps," he says. "Puri…"
Yagyuu escorts Niou home. Marui lingers in the clubhouse until Jackal agrees to go for coffee.
"A date!" Marui says.
"Not a date," Jackal says. "Just coffee."
Akaya gets changed. He chews his nails. Yukimura can see a hangnail bleeding. He tells Yanagi to get a bandaid. They leave too, because there are no more bandaids in the clubhouse first aid kit.
Usually, now, Yukimura would walk outside and wait for Sanada. The ground is soft and the tennis nets are taught. Sanada mumbles something and shuffles into the showers, fully-dressed.
Yukimura swallows. He opens the door and closes it, but he doesn't leave the room. Sanada disappears behind a divider wall. Yukimura waits inside. He breathes. He wrings his fingers on the hem of his jacket. His heart pounds. His dick is on fire.
Sanada sings in the shower.
Steam curls around Yukimura. He doesn't think anymore, not when he sees Sanada pad towards him. A towel wraps tight around his body. It skims the top of his thigh where there are patchy dark hairs.
Yukimura pounces. He stops Sanada with a kiss and touches the fold of the towel.
Today, give this to me today…
His breasts are pink, flushed like his face and the plum blossoms outside. His nipples are pinkish-brown. Yukimura's mouth is dry. He fingers Sanada's cunt-he's slick and slippery. His breasts heave when Yukimura pushes him down to one of the old wooden benches. Sanada says nothing. He gasps. He whimpers. Yukimura pulls his clothes off and he nearly comes when his underpants catch on his dick. It pulses on Sanada's thigh.
He doesn't need to think. All he needs to do is lick a saliva trail across Sanada's nipples and thrust forward. Sanada sucks in a breath and squeezes his cunt. Yukimura sees stars. He comes inside Sanada in one, two, three shallow shudders that spill his semen.
"I can't get you pregnant," he mutters. "Don't worry."
Sanada is silent. He doesn't resist when Yukimura fucks him a second time against his locker door. He doesn't kiss back, either.
He dresses. Yukimura laments seeing Sanada's breasts-covered in faint bruises and shiny remnants of kisses,--disappear into his bra. His own body is boneless. His muscles throb faintly in new places. He walks on air when they leave the clubhouse.
Sex is better than the best tennis game. At least all those he's played so far.
They don't speak at the bus stop. Sanada rushes onto the first bus. "I have to get cat food," he says. "Don't come with me."
Yukimura lies awake that night. The aftertaste of his birthday cake is bitter.
***
Sanada won't speak to him.
No textmessages.
No calls.
No notes.
Not a word at tennis practice, either.
Yukimura frowns. Sex is simple, natural-his biology textbook says so. This cold silence is unnatural.
He slams balls into the cement wall opposite the apartment block. Burned rubber stings his nose. Frustration stings his eyes.
"I did it wrong," he mumbles. Yukimura sits on a cement pylon in the parking lot. His racket clatters on the ground. He watches the cars and lorries zoom past, flashes of white and red lights under the glowing street lamps. His throat is thick.
A sakura petal dances across the pavement. It is wilted and dirty.
He thinks of Sanada and his body is numb.
***
Yukimura has a choice: tennis, or Sanada.
It costs his entire savings. No new racket.
He picks it out on his own and the shopgirl wraps it up in pink tissue paper in a small box. It is a week after White Day-school will be out on Friday.
Yukimura sits on the window ledge and waits. He swings his legs back and forth. His heart flutters, the same as the delicate green leaves on the maples and willows on campus. Sanada pauses on a step. He starts to turn but Yukimura calls his name. The box is clammy in his palm.
Sanada sits. He stares at his feet. His face burns.
Yukimura asks if he did it wrong. Sanada shakes his head. Yukimura takes a deep breath. "You keep ignoring me. I don't know what to do."
Sanada makes a noise. It twists Yukimura's heart. His face flushes and there is a sheen of tears in the corner of his eyes. Yukimura wipes them away. His thumb shakes. Sanada doesn't notice.
"Sanada," he says. "It's okay to change and be different. You're still the same to me. I like you-even if you were a toad."
Sanada chokes. Yukimura cringes. Maybe it wasn't quite the right thing to say. He presses the box into Sanada's palm before he says anything else stupid. He tells Sanada he's beautiful, that he's the prettiest girl and the best at tennis-it's not a lie. Yukimura's stomach is hot. The expression on Sanada's face is beautiful: the pout of his lips, the pink stain on his cheeks, his black eyes that refuse to meet Yukimura's.
The pin is beautiful in Sanada's hair, gleaming enamel on his shiny black hair. Yukimura bites his lip. His erection pokes his pants. He shifts his legs a bit wider and touches Sanada's cheek, his fingers drifting to Sanada's chin to tilt his head up.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks.
Sanada lifts his eyes. The look in his pupils is hot. Yukimura's heart drops to the floor, but Sanada picks it up with parted lips and kisses it back.