
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2942.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Tennis_no_Oujisama_|_Prince_of_Tennis
  Relationship:
      Yukimura/Niou
  Character:
      Niou_Masaharu, Yukimura_Seiichi
  Additional Tags:
      Smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-12-15 Words: 354
****** Succor ******
by Lys_ap_Adin_(lysapadin)
Summary
     Niou lends Yukimura a helping hand.
Notes
     Pure smut, with a bit of plot to make it stick together. Originally
     posted as comment-fic in giving_ground's journal; revised just a bit.
     Goes along with Permeable as a prequel, I suppose.
Succor
Masaharu guessed it made sense, after a fashion. He was there, and willing, and
Yukimura was there, and horny. Since Hiroshi was flexible about these things
and Sanada had his head so far up his ass about Yukimura that they were piping
his air into him through his navel, there was no reason for Yukimura not to
kiss him, really.
The only thing he really wondered was where Yukimura had managed to learn to
kiss, since what with one thing and another, surely he hadn't had the time.
Yukimura made an impatient, breathy sort of sound against his mouth, and nipped
at his lower lip; Masaharu stifled a groan as the sharp feeling went straight
to his groin. "What the fuck was that for?" he asked, winding his fingers in
Yukimura's hair.
"You're thinking too hard," Yukimura told him, and nipped him again. "You're
supposed to be thinking about me."
Pushy. But then, that was Yukimura all over. "Who said I wasn't?" Masaharu
drawled, just to be contrary, and then he cursed as Yukimura bit him again,
harder--fuck, that kind of hurt, even if it was hot.
"I can tell," Yukimura told him, but he didn't really sound all that annoyed.
Masaharu figured that was because he'd just gotten Yukimura's jeans undone, and
was groping him through the thin fabric of his underwear. "Fuck!"
Masaharu grinned and palmed Yukimura's erection, kneading it steadily, and
Yukimura's hips bucked into his hand. "I reckon I'm thinking about exactly what
I should be," he said.
Yukimura growled. "You're such an asshole," he managed, hands pressing against
Masaharu's chest, pushing him down to a bench. Masaharu let him, and grinned up
at him as Yukimura straddled him, cock hanging out of his jeans.
"That's why you love me, buchou," he said, and curled his fingers around
Yukimura again, stroking him hard. Yukimura made a muffled sound that might
have been agreement, or might not have been, and it wasn't long before his
fingers clenched the fabric of Masaharu's shirt as he arched and came, flushed
and panting.
Really, Sanada didn't know what he was missing.
end
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