Happy Santa_Smex, Everyone!
To: Everyone!
From: nimori
Title: Off the Cuff
Recipient's name: Everyone!
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Fuji/Eiji, Tezuka/Ryoma
Warnings: light bondage, aural voyeurism?
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.
Summary: Eiji's boyfriend is a bastard. This is problematic
Author's Notes: I hope you like it! Thanks to V for the beta. &hearts
Well, Eiji thought, squirming against the cold mesh of the equipment cage that was digging tracks into his naked back, it could be worse.
And by the law of clichéd phrases, it immediately did get worse -- a lot worse -- as the door to the clubhouse banged open and loud voices flooded into the locker room. Fuji, of course, had left the equipment room door ajar by a good few inches when he'd left Eiji naked and handcuffed to the cage.
For a few panicked moments the babble overwhelmed him, too loud and too near while he was too naked and too helpless. Lockers slammed and rackets clattered to benches and someone whooped and someone else laughed, all of it horrifyingly close through that six-inch gap. A cooler breeze from outside came in with the noise, sweeping over Eiji's belly and thighs and making his balls draw up and his nipples tighten. He shivered, and the handcuffs rattled, and he stilled, afraid someone would hear. Fuji had left the light off, but even the weak sunlight seeping down from the high narrow window seemed too bright to Eiji, and if any of the boys passing by the equipment room door looked too closely into the dimness they would see him in all his bare-assed glory.
And what if someone needed a spare net? Or one of the traffic cones they used for precision training? What if the soccer team came looking for that ball that had migrated to the tennis club's equipment room two years ago? His stomach tensed at the thought, a weird fluttery feeling that trembled down his legs, and he willed Fuji to hurry up and rescue him, knowing Fuji would do no such thing.
The voices thinned out as the showers started up, and no one came into the equipment room. Eiji's racing heart slowed, and he began to hear individuals in the chatter: Momo and Kaidoh arguing, Arai complaining, Taka singing, Horio reliving an apparently glorious drop shot, Katsuo and Kachiro correcting his rendition.
"I can't believe Eiji didn't show up for practice." That was Oishi, and he sounded hurt. Eiji leaned forward reflexively, but the cuffs didn't give him much leeway. "Are you sure he didn't call, Tezuka? Can you check your phone again?"
"When I get out of the shower," Tezuka said, sounding as irritated as Tezuka ever did, and Eiji just knew he was going to be running a billion laps for this.
Fuji, he thought as hard as he could, screwing up his face in effort, utterly convinced Fuji could read his mind, you are going to run every one of my laps with me. And then he jerked as Fuji spoke up.
"No need to worry, Oishi. Eiji left me a message before practice saying he wouldn't make it."
"You could have said something earlier," Taka said, "instead of letting us wonder."
"How odd that Eiji spoke to Fuji," Inui said. "There is an eighty-six percent chance that Fuji would withhold such information for his own amusement."
"You're right, Inui," Fuji said, and Eiji could just see him smiling cheerfully, the bastard. "It was more fun to listen to Momo's theories. I especially liked the idea that he was kidnapped by aliens."
"Please pass on the message next time," Tezuka said, still in a lap-assigning sort of tone.
"But Tezuka, Eiji could be naked right now, chained to a metal wall, waiting to be probed."
Momo and Taka laughed, and Eiji bit his lip savagely and pretended it was Fuji.
The second-years were out the door first, as usual, and then the third-years as they finished putting themselves in girl-worthy order, followed by the first-years as they finished cleaning up after the rest. The regulars always took the longest, having less inclination to rush off to other activities, and Eiji was squirming by the time Taka and Inui left. Kaidoh went next, grunting something about improving his timing, and while Oishi was pestering Tezuka to check his phone once more, just in case, Fuji slipped into the equipment room, leaving the door just as far open as it had been.
Asshole, Eiji mouthed, and Fuji blew him a silent kiss. Shut the door.
Fuji shook his head. Eiji tried to kick him without rattling but Fuji just used the opportunity to get between his legs, all clean-smelling and damp-haired and annoyingly smug.
"What are you doing?" Eiji breathed, afraid to speak any louder. "You made me miss practice."
"Isn't this more fun?" Fuji's voice was low but not low enough; Oishi and Momo had finally gone and the locker room was silent except for a sneaker squeak, a zipper, a bag hitting the bench.
"Fuji, be quiet! Buchou and Ochibi are still here."
"So it is fun, then." Fuji nibbled on his ear, and even though being handcuffed naked right next to a roomful of his teammates hadn't been fun at all -- not very much anyway -- the nibbling was fun and Fuji knew it. Eiji knees wobbled and the cuffs took more of his weight.
"Stop that." He didn't sound very convincing to himself, but it was hard to be firm while whispering. "I'm serious. I'm mad at you."
Fuji cupped him, and Eiji's traitorous dick swelled a little more. "Interesting way of expressing your anger."
I hate you, Eiji thought at Fuji, but Fuji only smiled and ran his thumbnail lightly across his slit. Okay, it was getting a little more fun. Eiji wriggled. A bit more pressure and--
"Buchou." Echizen's voice rang through the clubhouse and Eiji almost leapt out of his skin. Fuji's hand clamped down on him, slow firm strokes now, and Eiji glared as well as he could with his eyes wanting to cross. "Buchou, Fuji-senpai was lying about Eiji-senpai, wasn't he?"
Tezuka was silent for a moment and Fuji decided now would be a good time to start sucking on Eiji's neck and kneading his balls like a cat. Eiji stomped his bare foot and concentrated on not yelling.
"He was," Tezuka said. "My guess is he tricked Kikumaru into believing practice was canceled or moved somewhere else. Kikumaru will deal with him."
"Really? How will you deal with me?" Fuji whispered into Eiji's ear, and Eiji bit his shoulder, hard. Fuji only rocked his hips forward, stiff under his gakuran, the material rough against Eiji tender skin.
"I'm going to beat you with your own racket," Eiji managed to say, and he bit an earlobe, but not as hard. Fuji hummed.
"So buchou," Echizen said, and Tezuka didn't answer. "Here we are."
"But why won't they leave?" Eiji moaned under his breath, and Fuji laughed silently, pressing his face to Eiji's chest, shoulders shaking.
"Alone in the clubhouse," Echizen continued, stressing the words for some reason Eiji couldn't decipher with Fuji fingering the grooves the cage made on his ass. "Just us."
"Echizen." Tezuka sighed. "Is there something you wanted?"
"Che. Buchou, I'm trying to get you to take advantage of me again."
Eiji sucked in a breath, his ass forgotten, but his shout died when Fuji clapped a hand over his mouth and nose. Fuji's eyes had opened, and they were gleaming and dangerous and wickedly amused.
"I knew it," he whispered, and let Eiji breathe again. In the other room Tezuka was talking, saying something about mistakes and not happening again and abuse of authority. Fuji rolled his eyes. Eiji hadn't quite managed to put his back in his head. Again?!
"I see," Echizen said, and there was a soft thump, and then a rustle.
"What are you doing?" Tezuka's voice had gone up a notch.
"I know what he's doing," Fuji whispered. "Echizen's blowing him."
Eiji squirmed, suddenly hot down to his toes. "He is not!"
"Is so. I saw them at it last week." Fuji wriggled a hand between them and unzipped his uniform pants; he was damp and clean from his shower and his dick rubbed harshly over Eiji's until Fuji spat in his hand and slicked them. He fluttered his lashes. "Has anyone ever blown you, Eijiko?"
Eiji flushed. Fuji knew the answer to that, because Fuji had been teasing him about it for weeks.
"Do you know why I tied you up, Eiji?" Fuji's mouth was hot at one ear, and the shuffling sounds coming from the locker room burned the other. Eiji wriggled. "It's because you just can't hold still long enough for me to lick my way down your belly--"
Eiji whimpered. (In the other room Tezuka gasped.)
"--down to your dick--"
Eiji arched. (The bench screeched across the floor and a racket fell to the ground.)
"--where I can wrap my lips around you, so big and hot, and use my tongue to--"
Eiji came all over Fuji's school trousers. (Echizen gave a surprised sort of grunt and said, "Buchou, my hair.")
"Well," Fuji said, blinking down at the mess, "it's a good thing it's laundry day."
Eiji shut his eyes and let his head fall against the mesh, not caring if anyone heard them. "I hate you so much, Fujiko."
"You're welcome, Eijiko."
Outside, a locker rattled and Tezuka stomped by the open door, muttering about laps and pushy freshmen. The faucet ran briefly, and then Echizen wandered along in his wake, cap tugged down over his wet hair.
When the door had shut Eiji straightened up and shook his wrists. "Are you going to let me down now, you pervert?"
"Mmm." Fuji reached up, and the tension loosened. "Let's go to my house. You still have to punish me. Captain's orders."
"Fine, fine. But I'm not dressing up again, and I don't care how expensive the costume rental was. Where did you get real handcuffs anyway?" Eiji grumbled, rubbing the circulation back into his arms.
"Oh, I stole those from Yuuta's magic kit." Fuji tilted his head, smiling. "You did find the release catch on the side, right?"
If Tezuka or Echizen were surprised to see a naked Eiji chasing Fuji across the courts, neither of them had the nerve to mention it.