
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2956.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Tennis_no_Oujisama_|_Prince_of_Tennis
  Relationship:
      Sanada_Genichirou/Yukimura_Seiichi
  Character:
      Sanada_Genichirou, Yukimura_Seiichi
  Additional Tags:
      Smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-01-31 Words: 498
****** Momentum ******
by Lys_ap_Adin_(lysapadin)
Summary
     Tennis is a powerful aphrodisiac.
Notes
     Smut and nothing but. Originally posted as commentfic in
     [[info]]
giving_ground's journal. 496 words.
Momentum
Sometimes Genichirou wondered whether it was weird that a good game of tennis
got Seiichi horny. He suspected that it probably was.
He also suspected that he probably ought to mind more than he did, but
honestly, who was going to complain when Seiichi prowled into the locker room
after the day's matches were over, eyes glittering with intent? Especially when
everyone else was already scattering before he even said, "Everyone, out."
Genichirou left off buttoning his shirt and waited.
Seiichi gave the team ninety seconds, which was long enough for Niou to smirk
and say something that was probably absolutely filthy to Akaya, who turned red
and took off, still doing up his uniform and his shoelaces flapping, and for
Renji to roll his eyes at their excesses. That was about thirty seconds longer
than Genichirou had really expected, given how close Seiichi's match with
Tezuka had been, and by the time the door banged shut behind Marui, Seiichi was
already moving towards him.
"Good matches today," Genichirou noted, maneuvering himself closer to one of
the benches, just in case.
"Excellent matches," Seiichi all-but-purred, and invaded Genichirou's personal
space to press him against the wall. It looked like Seiichi was going to be
impatient after all.
And that was the last coherent thought Genichirou managed before Seiichi kissed
him, overwhelming as a tidal wave, hands stroking down his chest and snaking
into his underwear to grope him. Genichirou groaned and pulled Seiichi to him,
answering Seiichi's kiss with the hunger he'd been bottling up since Seiichi
had laughed and taken his second set from Tezuka. He went fumbling for the
fastenings of Seiichi's shorts, got them undone and shoved down, and the tile
walls of the locker room echoed both of their groans back to them as Seiichi
rocked against him, hard and eager.
Seiichi might have been saying something, yes and fuck and Genichirou, but he
couldn't make himself focus on that. Seiichi's ass was tight under his hands
and Seiichi was grinding against him with one hand caught between them. His
thin calloused fingers stroked over their cocks, driving them both higher,
pleasure gathering momentum upon itself until it cut through him, keen and
perfect as the sweep of a return or the stroke of a blade.
When Genichirou could start to think again, if dazed, half-formed thoughts
could be called thinking, he was slumped against the wall. The drape of Seiichi
against him, sticky and hot, was the only thing keeping him propped up. It
shouldn't have been comfortable, but it was, so he let himself drift as Seiichi
caught his breath again and nuzzled his throat.
All in all, tennis was a strange aphrodisiac. On the other hand, most of the
time Genichirou couldn't bring himself to care, and one of these days, he was
going to visit a shrine and light a stick of incense, just to say thanks to the
gods for having put Tezuka Kunimitsu on the planet.
end
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