Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

The Dance	By : Pixxit Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > General Views: 2202 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis (Tennis no Ohjisama), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Dance
- 1
*Konomi's, not mine. More's the pity.

The Dance

The lockers were cold against his back. The ridges and solid metal dug into his spine, leaving impressions on sweatslick skin. His hair was drenched with sweat beneath his cap and he was aware, distantly, of the thin rivulets of sweat drying on the back of his neck before they could touch the collar of his shirt.
His heart was pounding � from the match or from the words Atobe Keigo was murmuring against his ear, he wasn�t quite certain. Given the situation, and where Atobe had his hands, Sanada wasn�t sure it was relevant at all.
His touch was rough, though his hands were soft.
Pampered bitch.
There was no disguising the smirk in Atobe�s voice as those delicate, nimble fingers plucked at the knot tucked just inside his shorts. Sanada doubted Atobe was even cognizant of it � there wasn�t much that Atobe didn�t smirk about.
�Don�t pretend I�m not here, Genichirou. Kiss me.�
Sanada turned his head aside, hand fisting in the back of Atobe�s jersey. He knew that Hyoutei�s pride and joy wore his shirts loose so as to allow for maximum exposure during a match.
Fucking narcissist.
�No. And don�t call me that.�
Atobe laughed, though it resembled nothing so much as a smug purr when, at last, he managed to free the knot that Sanada had been certain would take him forever to undo. Wasting not a second more, he gripped Sanada�s ass, under his shorts, over his briefs. �What should I call you, then? It is your name, after all.� He pressed Sanada snugly against the lockers, leaning to suck at his neck.
Sanada grunted, turning his head again even as his hands slid lower to press against Atobe�s lower back. �I don�t want to hear you saying my name.�
Atobe bit his lip, grinned when Sanada scowled. �God, you�re a bastard. Kiss me.�
Sanada growled then, fisting one hand � without warning � into the back of Atobe�s soft, soft hair. �Fuck you.�
Atobe chuckled as he rubbed the flat of his palm over Sanada�s cock, hard and straining the front of his very thin briefs. �That�s not nice, Genichirou. What would your precious Seiichi say if he heard such coarse language?�
Sanada spun about, then, slamming Atobe against the lockers and taking his mouth in a hard, fierce kiss.
And just like that � Atobe grew still and pliant against him. Sanada was dimly aware of the soft, entreating sound he made.
Dirty slut.
�Don�t mention him to me. Don�t speak his name.�
Sanada�s voice was gruff and Atobe�s eyes sparked challenge even as he yielded to the stronger, more powerful boy. He slid his hand beneath the stiff elastic of Sanada�s underwear and wrapped his fingers, not gently, around his partner�s dick. �Does everyone do what you tell them to do?�
Bumping Atobe�s chin with his own, forcing his head back to a less comfortable angle, Sanada jerked the other boy�s shorts down and gripped him through the fine silk of his skimpy underwear. �Shut up.�
He moaned when Atobe began to jerk his cock, that soft, fine-boned hand affording such perfect pressure. He didn�t lower Atobe�s underwear and, instead, only barely tugged his erection from beneath the fabric when he began to work that hot, hard length in his fist. He would take no steps to avoid sullying Atobe�s clothing. Let him come all over his pretty little bikinis.
Fucking queer.
�I�ll take that as a yes.� Atobe breathed, thrusting into Sanada�s grasp as he sought more kisses.
Sanada evaded, instead sliding his cheek against Atobe�s to turn his head, to bare his neck. He bit down on the boy�s neck, sucking once to savor the salty-sweetness of his skin as he tightened his grip in Atobe�s hair. �Looking at you, Atobe, I might concur.�
Atobe hissed, Sanada�s punishing grip, his disrespectful words, pricking at the edges of his dignity. �You�re no better than me, you bastard. Rubbing your dick against my belly and thinking ugly thoughts.�
Sanada kissed him again, rough and unrefined, just to shut him up. He would never kiss Yukimura this way, would never even consider it. Yukimura was soft and perfect and pure and the feelings Sanada harbored for his captain bordered on reverence.
Atobe moaned, attempting to tilt his head to change the angle of the kiss and simply unable to do so for the grip Sanada had on him. Atobe hooked one arm around the bigger boy�s neck and pulled him close enough that he could nibble on his lips and suck on his tongue.
�He doesn�t let you fuck him, does he?� Atobe asked, voice low and smug. Sanada squeezed his eyes closed and seemed to concentrate more intently on stroking Atobe�s cock.
Atobe tipped his head back, arched against Sanada. �You don�t have to tell me � I already know. God, you�re so queer for him you can�t stand it, can you? But you just can�t admit it.�
Sanada grabbed a handful of Atobe�s shirt, bunched at his shoulder, and banged him against the locker even as he fell forward, forehead leaning against Atobe�s neck as he took slow, deep breaths.
He was close � so, so close.
Atobe held him close, jerked him faster. He knocked Sanada�s cap off of his head, rubbed his cheek against damp, dark hair even before the hat hit the floor. �Stop fighting it, Sanada.�
Sanada lifted his head, looked directly into Atobe�s eyes. He never slowed his pace and Atobe became aware of the faint trembling of the other boy�s body. He looked�conflicted. Guilty. Miserable.
Atobe smiled, amusement fleeting in the face of his impending orgasm. �I�m just like you, Sanada. I love someone, too.�
Sanada bit his lip, not looking away, grip urgent on Atobe�s cock. �Tezuka.�
Atobe moaned softly, writhing against him, fingers almost caressing the back of Sanada�s neck. �Tezuka.� He acknowledged, eyes closing when the pleasure became too great. �Oh, god�Tezuka��
Releasing the grip on Atobe�s hair, Sanada wrapped his arm around the other boy�s back and held him close, riding on Atobe�s obvious pleasure. He whimpered, the sound a mere vibration against Atobe�s cheek. It made him want to shatter � simply break apart. �Say it, Sanada. Your secret is safe with me.� He whispered.
Sanada gasped, voice breaking on a moan so low that it could easily have been mistaken for a sob. �I��
Atobe batted his hand away, released his hold on Sanada�s cock, instead gripping his hips and pulling him flush against his own body. He pushed his briefs over his hips and rocked against Sanada, their erections hot and slick from their exertions.
�Go ahead, Genichirou. Let go. Dance with me again.�
Sanada bowed his head, burrowing against the fragrant heat of Atobe�s neck. The pleasure, so sublime, so indescribable, licked along his nerve endings like fire.
�Seiichi�� He whispered, clutching at Atobe as he let the other boy take control, pull him over. �Seiichi��
Atobe cried out, then, breathless and urgent. �Ahh��
Before Sanada could wrap his mind around the consequence of his weakness, of preceisely how much he�d just revealed of himself, he gasped and came in a hot rush against Atobe�s cock, against his belly. The sweat, the heat, the sticky warmth between them � they were nothing more than simple concessions that Sanada hadn�t known he could make. Not to Atobe.
Atobe wasn�t Yukimura.
�Dammit.� He rasped, still clinging to Atobe despite the near immediate self-loathing that demanded he push the other boy away.
Atobe shook his head, smiling as he remembered the way Tezuka had looked at him earlier in the day. When he�d played, when he�d shown how far he could go, how serious he could be. Tezuka had looked at him differently. It was time.
�No, Sanada. Now it�s your move. It�s time.�
Sanada nodded slightly, his thoughts only of Yukimura and what he would say, what he would do when he saw him again. He knew he would remember this, draw courage from it, and tell the other boy what he�d been waiting for so long to say. Perhaps he could have his happy ending after all � and not have to compromise himself in the process.
And to think he�d learned such a thing from Atobe Keigo, of all people.
Fucking know-it-all.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Dance