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One Word	By : dugo Category: +S to Z > Slam Dunk Views: 3024 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Slam Dunk, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Disclaimer: Haven’t we had enough of this already?

One Word

“Sakuragi Hanamichi, the invincible handsome tensai has
finally hit the house! Nyahahahaha!” The redhead declared as he went over to
his locker. Rukawa was the only person there to hear all his mindless brags.
They were early; the others have not yet arrived for the practice.

“Oh, it’s you baka kitsune . . ..”

The metal creaked as Hanamichi opened the door of his
locker.

“Hah! You think you’re so good?! Why, you’re no match for
a tensai like me, Sakuragi Hanamichi! Nyahahaha!”

Rukawa, standing three lockers from the ever-lively
Hanamichi whilst attending to his things, paid the loud do’aho no visual
attention and merely said, “Urusai.”

Hanamichi ignored the cold-toned response and carried on
as if he were deaf.

“Sometimes, I wonder what Haruko sees in you . . ..”

“Urusai.”

“I can beat you at any time . . ..”

“Urusai.”

“See, you’re always the one ruining this tensai’s game. I—”

The next word failed to wing from Hanamichi’s mouth as a
hand suddenly clamped itself on his face at the same time as a clang forced by
the other hand rang out from the collision of the locker’s barrier edges with
their bound. The blue-eyed ace had drawn very near to him that his nose was all
but touching the other’s. Swelling with shock, Sakuragi’s eyes turned very
round compared to the fox’s sharp, threatening ones. The redhead hadn’t even
felt the kitsune’s bolt-snap movement and just opened his eyes finding himself
gagged.

Rukawa hopped his right elbow over Hanamichi’s shoulder
and grabbed a handful of the slightly curly locks form the back in an almost
delicate fashion, closing the already little space between them in the process.
Hanamichi made a stifled cry behind Kaede’s palm as the raven-haired boy
suddenly wrenched his hair upward then turned him violently with it. He swung
the writhing young man beneath him to the side then drew him back only to drive
him over to a nearby bench. Hanamichi grunted and teetered, his large hands
flung up to his poor scalp.

Rukawa half-threw half-slumped the self-proclaimed tensai
along the end of the long seat of wood so that he straddled it, causing him to
groan the unkind placement. Sakuragi hastily leaned his forearms against the
narrow width of the seat to lever himself up and turn his head to the silent
aggressor, who to his horror, was undoing his own pants together with the tight
fit of fabric underneath.

“Ru—”

The rest of the syllables came out muffled as he for a
moment struggled with his departing shirt, yanked off in one swift motion of a
limb over his head. Hanamichi courobarobably hit his chin if it weren’t for the
undersides of his arms that quickly found their way to equip immediate support
somewhere in front of him.

Rukawa was a hungry wolf. No, a hungry fox. He then almost
instantly hoisted the latter’s hips and granted no heed to the unprepared boy’s
whimpers of protest while he shifted to suit his new position. Wasting no
little of time, he removed Hanamichi’s shorts together with his cotton-white
cotton briefs in a jerk-like downward pull that impounded his balance and
nearly compelled him to fall from the bench.

Sakuragi was taking in deep breaths.

“Rukawa . . . what the hell are you—”

Kaede slowly stooped down to align his mouth to
Hanamichi’s reddened ear.

“U. Ru. Sai.”

Rukawa underscored each syllable through a near-whisper.

Hanamichi couldn’t curb a gasp that oh-so deliciously
escaped his lips. He shivered as he felt the tip of Rukawa’s tongue as well as
the warmth of his mouth that started from his nape and smoothed down the
shallow ditch at the middle of his back until it reached the notable end point
hollow just above the two firm cheeks of his buttocks. A sigh drifted from him
on account of the intimidating spine of coolness that surfaced anon. But it
quickly changed into a sharp cry as Rukawa right then straightway infiltrated
the wall of his virginity.

Hanamichi’s widened eyes appeared to be hand in glove with
his parted mouth, which was releasing a broken line of soft guttural echoes of
sudden pain and muscular adjustment hardship, his arched back seconding the
intensity of the unwelcome impact.

It got to relax somewhat, his back, bit by bit as Rukawa
slowly withdrew his intruding member. But it didn’t take three seconds before
he jammed it in again, releasing a barely audible throaty sound of slight
inconvenience of forcing raw flesh into non-lubricated flesh himself. Hanamichi
on the other hand restrained another cry through clenched teeth so that it
merely sounded as if pulled right back. The succeeding thrusts came out in the
same way, like a huge log carried over by a hundred to try to break into a
bolted gate. And the next thing Hanamichi knew, the in-and-out motion had sped
its pace up, and, keeping in mind the kitsune’s one-word order, he had to bury
his head into the hardness of his twin radii, lest the near-uncontrollable
moans would make it.

Hanamichi was a giraffe bowing before the lion king.

Anyone who’ll ever sit on the bench would feel it vibrate
owing to the impact of pelvis slapping against gluteus maximus. The
luscious sound of it, the slapping, the struggle-evident silent whimpers, plus
the heavy breathing hovered throughout the surrounding space. Otherwise, the
room could be considered completely soundless.

The exposure was too much really for Sakuragi, that he had
unavoidably bitten his lower lip until bleeding. No, he was digging the
perfectly white enamel-coated structures of his front teeth deeper still
into the suffering lip-red flesh, now redder because of the pooling blood. Tiny
beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, with which they proved anything that
has to do with remarkable endurance and self-restraint.

Rukawa, nearing climax, began to give Hanamichi full hard
thrusts, which made the latter stretch his long neck upward constantly in flow
with his arching back. This time, Hanamichi couldn’t anymore hold back the
resulting moans that all the while pestered to be released. Rukawa reached down
to grasp the do’aho’s hardened sex, and squeezed it as if deflating. Hanamichi
found himself suck his breath on this. His brown eyes shot wide open as he then
felt the head of Kaede’s index force itself into the teensy hole of his cock.

“Aaaah!”

His expanded eyes overflowed with tears automatically. His
whole trembling body recoiled but the fox got him. The fox got him in the clasp
of the whiter side of his arms on each of the expanse between his underarms and
shoulders. The fox got his approaching ass and grabbed the opportunity of this
perfect timing to stick his cock in as far as it would go within the hot
velvety cave of his sexy do’aho, then released.

Their voices intermingled as both the juice and the cup
let themselves go in the irresistible scream of something . . . affecting. They
fell in a heap on the painted wood. They, the two of them fixed together that
way, were a mass of a perfect inhale-exhale example.

After a short while, Rukawa, slipping his arms from
beneath the damp body and himself from it, finally rose from the smooth
undulating back, much to the exhausted boy’s comfort. Hanamichi now lay slumped
on the extent of the backrest-less seat with bended legs and limp arms resting
on the back of mitts on the cold floor and partly closed eyes. Rukawa pulled up
the pants that was swirled around his feet then walked around to face the
spent, messed monkey. Down on one knee, he formed a swift scarcely seen smile
on his thin lips before licking the blood, liquid and dried, on Hanamichi’s
luscious ones, educing another soft moan from the reflecting angel. He stood
up, patted him on the head knowing all too well how hard he tried to shut up.
Hanamichi didn’t even bother to watch him walk away.

He lay there slumped on the extent of the backrest-less
seat with one temple and one sensitive elongate organ pressed against it. For
the first time, he was lost in thought, the thought about the highly unexpected
happening and turn of events, about the new sensation, no, new pain in new
location, then new sensation, about the degrading state and circumstances he
never thought of being in, a tensai like him. He will never forget this day
when the fox had gone too far and remembered only one single word in the
vocabulary.

Sakuragi heard faint noises outside, Akagi and the others
were coming. He should get up and do something before someone
gains such interesting finding.

He wondered if he could.

~owari~

A/N: Kinda sounded like Sanzo don’t you think? Well . . ..

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