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The Closet	By : KNW Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > General Views: 4041 -:- 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 Closet
- 1
A/N: Written for 30_Lemons. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The Prince of Tennis
characters don't belong to me.

The
Closet

"Echizen, this is a
closet," Atobe sounded rather stunned to Ryoma's ears and if it had been
any other time, any other circumstance, he'd have found it hilarious. As it
wasn't any other time, or any other circumstance, he just wanted the ex-hyotei captain to stay quiet.

"Well done, monkey-king, now
shut up," he hissed, hanging onto the handle to keep the door closed as he
pressed one golden eye to the tiny gap around the frame edge. He still couldn't
see anything.

"Echizen," Atobe repeated,
tone disbelieving, "you just dragged me
into a closet."

"Yes, I did," Ryoma
confirmed as he shifted a little to try peering through the key hole, and very
nearly took his own eye out on the handle when his ass collided with Atobe.
Unsettled, he found himself snapping in a whisper. "Now just be
quiet."

"It's dirty in here!"
Atobe snapped in return, loud enough to momentarily kill the dull murmur of
voices Ryoma had previously been able to hear in the clubroom beyond.

The quiet didn't last, the murmur
resumed, but it was enough to spur the boy into action as he twisted round,
groping his way up Atobe's body to the tune of a great deal of sputtering
before he could firmly clamp his hand over Atobe's mouth. He couldn't stop
Atobe's attempts to pry him off though, and he knew he'd only succeeded in
quieting the older boy because he'd taken him by surprise, thus he wasted no
time in explaining.� His voice was barely
audible, just an exhale against Atobe's ear as he told him, "Tezuka's
outside with coach Ryuzaki."

Atobe stilled then, halting his
struggles with one hand still clasping Ryoma's wrist. Slowly Ryoma allowed
Atobe to ease the hand away, making a face over the fact it was damp with
Atobe's breath and wiping it on the leg of his shorts as Atobe spoke quietly.
"Why is Tezuka here?"

It was a reasonable question since
Tezuka had graduated high school two years earlier and, as such, had no real
reason to be on the school property any longer. Ryoma wasn't in a mood to
respect that fact, however. He was irritated that Atobe still hadn't shut up, as
well as distracted as he returned to peer through the key hole, so he didn't
fully consider the retort he was giving. "Why are you here?"

"You're fucking Tezuka
too?" Atobe sounded highly entertained.

"What?" Ryoma forgot to be quiet in that moment. He could feel
himself turning a dull red and was glad for the lack of lighting � it wasn't
that he didn't like Tezuka that way; it was that he did.. He'd even made a pass at Tezuka once and been
embarrassingly rebuffed as Tezuka had been seeing someone else at the time.
Ryoma had no idea who, even now, but it had been humiliating at the time and it
was still humiliating to think of now. What was worse was that Atobe knew about
it, had caught Ryoma out once and divined it from his off-guard response, and
was purposefully teasing him about it now of all times. He didn't hesitate as
he reached back to swat at Atobe. "Not
funny."

Atobe's snickering was just barely
muffled, but Ryoma wasn't sure he could find it in himself to be grateful for
the fact considering why the older boy was laughing. He elbowed him in the
knee, annoyed, evoking a wheezy gasp of pain through Atobe's chuckling and a
kick in the rear. It was when the kick nearly knocked him out of the closet,
risking revealing them both entirely, that he growled, "Stop it."

He was just getting ready to try and
peer through the keyhole once more, to see if he could identify who else might
or might not be with Tezuka and Ryuzaki, when Atobe asked again, with greater
seriousness, "Why are we in a closet?"

The edge of distaste was still
there, so utterly Atobe that Ryoma couldn't help being faintly amused with him
once he let his irritation go and acknowledged they were about to be stuck for
a while so he should resign himself to the inevitable. He'd always known Atobe
could be a real snob pretty much all the time, but once Ryoma had adjusted to
the fact that that was just the way Atobe was, he began to find it more
entertaining than irritating when it didn�t catch him in a foul mood. Standing
carefully, he reached out and found Atobe's arm, using that to guide him close
enough to explain quietly. "We're not allowed to use the courts on
Sundays."

There was silence for a long moment
before Atobe eventually observed, in such a tone that Ryoma could well imagine
the way he was wrinkling his nose when he spoke. "You smell,
Echizen."

"Asshole, I'm hardly the only
one," Ryoma retorted, trying not to give into his amusement as he elbowed
Atobe in the side this time. He couldn't actually argue the point since it was
true as they'd just been playing tennis on the Seigaku
courts. Atobe's parents had been home this weekend, and since they were yet to
be acquainted with the fact Atobe was gay (Ryoma wasn't sure how they'd missed
it this long already, they need only have taken one look at Atobe's frilly
dressing gown) and Ryoma's house was devoid of soundproofing, they'd elected to
make use of the Seigaku courts for a game and the
changing rooms for� other stuff.

"Brat," Atobe muttered and
elbowed him right back, making Ryoma's breath catch for a moment as Atobe
continued indignantly, "are you calling me smelly?"

"I'm saying you stink,"
Ryoma explained, smirking even if Atobe couldn't see it. Shifting a little in
order to lean back against the side of the closet, he checked he had enough
room to move his feet without knocking anything down before settling as
comfortably as he could manage. He could still hear the soft sound of voices
beyond the door in the moment of shocked silence and they served to confirm his
theory that they were well and truly trapped for a while at least.

"I do not stink," Atobe asserted stiffly.

"What? Not ever?" Ryoma
was more than a little amused by that point.

"No," Atobe stated with
such certainty Ryoma had to blink for a moment.

"What? You're going to claim
you don't sweat either now?" Ryoma knew he sounded faintly incredulous,
but really Atobe said the stupidest things at times. They'd only just finished
playing a three set match twenty minutes ago and they'd yet to get near the
showers, of course Atobe stunk.

"Don't be an
idiot, Echizen," Atobe told him in that tone of voice that made
Ryoma feel like a complete moron every time without fail. "I use
deodorant."

Ryoma was just going to make a crack
about The Super Deodorant of Doom when he sensed Atobe moving and got nervous.
"What are you doing?"

Up until then, even arguing, they'd
kept their voices low and gone undetected, but if Atobe started moving around
all over the place Ryoma knew they'd surely be caught in moments. They might
have managed to slip some things by Ryuzaki as she was getting a little old,
but Tezuka never missed a thing. Hell, Tezuka probably already knew they were
in there with his supernatural captain powers that he had incidentally most
definitely forgotten to pass on to Ryoma upon graduating.

It was decidedly not the thought to
have been having when Atobe managed to catch him off guard and snag both of his
wrists as he reached out to gauge what the older boy was up to. He began to
wish he'd never entertained it to begin with as Atobe stepped close to press
him against the closet wall more firmly and pin his hands over his head. All he
could think was that Tezuka was watching them right then, from right outside
the door, with that stern and impassive expression. "Stop it, Tezuka will
see!"

Atobe paused. "Echizen,"
he began slowly. "The door is closed."

"Hear," Ryoma snapped, not
sure whether he was more bothered over the fact he couldn't struggle for fear
of discovery, which left Atobe in charge, or the fact he'd been stupid enough
to say that aloud. "I meant hear."

"But I wasn't saying
anything," Atobe whispered in his ear, tone mock-innocent as he lingered
just centimetres from touching Ryoma in that tantalising way that made the
younger boy shiver.

"Bastard," Ryoma bit out,
shaking his head to dispel the tingling sensation he was getting from the way
Atobe kept breathing on him. How the
fuck did he manage to make breathing exciting?

"You love it," Atobe
responded, and Ryoma knew the asshole was smirking as he ducked his head to
graze his lips along the column of Ryoma's throat.

"We can't do this here,"
Ryoma said, but he found himself automatically tilting his head back as he
protested anyway. There was something about Atobe Keigo that just would not be
denied and Ryoma had been dealing with him long enough to know fighting was
useless. Also pointless when co-operating could be so much more fun.

"We're stuck in a closet."
Atobe was refusing to let the younger boy distract him as he murmured against
Ryoma's skin, his breath hot and ticklish. "What else should we do? Make
polite conversation?"

"You said I smelt bad,"
Ryoma pointed out. He couldn't help it, talking back was an ingrained response
with Atobe, even if he was physically acquiescing to Atobe�s every demand.

"Actually I just said you
smelt." Atobe's lips curved into a smirk against Ryoma's neck before he
pulled back. "Do you want me to stop?"

"�No," Ryoma conceded
after a moment's hesitation, but that moment was only because he didn't want to
admit Atobe was right. He could practically see his boyfriend's head swell,
even in almost pitch black. "Hang on, does this mean you think I smell nice when I sweat?"

"Echizen, shut up," Atobe instructed him, and didn't give him a chance
to argue the point this time as he covered Ryoma's lips with his own.

Ryoma blinked and opened his mouth
to protest, which only supplied Atobe with the opportunity to slide his tongue
inside. It was a testimony to how far they'd come that the older boy switched
to pinning Ryoma with only one hand and slid the other down to cup the back of
Ryoma's head in time to prevent him smacking it against the closet wall as he
fell into the kiss.

As if sensing Ryoma's submission to
the inevitable, Atobe released the younger boy's hands entirely. Ryoma let them
fall to loop around Atobe's shoulders as he kissed back, pointedly ignoring the
brief vibration of laughter that rumbled low in his boyfriend�s chest. He could
no longer hear the conversation outside over the wet sounds of their kissing
but he wasn't sure he could bring himself to care.

Sliding his fingers up into Atobe's
hair, he just held on as the older boy broke the kiss to move back down to his
neck. At the first sucking bite destined to leave a mark, his twisted his
fingers in Atobe�s hair, mussing it up entirely: two could play at that game.

"You are such a brat,"
Atobe muttered.

"I'm not the one leaving
hickeys so you'll get quizzed by your pervert-father," Ryoma returned.

Still cupping Ryoma's head, Atobe
slid his free hand under Ryoma's top and ran it up the younger boy's side in a
way that he knew would make Ryoma squirm with giggles. "I'm sure you'll
make up for it."

"Bastard," Ryoma gasped
breathily, reaching down to grab Atobe's tickling hand.

"You're getting
repetitive," Atobe smirked, shaking Ryoma off so he could grab the hem of
his t-shirt and tug it over the younger boy's head. He let it drop carelessly
to the floor a moment later, taking Ryoma's mouth in another deep, drugging
kiss

"You got my top dirty,"
Ryoma gasped against Atobe's mouth in annoyance when they finally parted, but
he found himself pulling up the hem of the older boy's shirt anyway.

"I don't care." Atobe
pulled away enough to aid Ryoma in removing his own top and directly
afterwards, in the light seeping from around the doorframe, Ryoma could see him
shaking his head to rectify the mess their efforts had left Atobe's hair in.

"Such a queen," Ryoma
muttered fondly, letting Atobe's shirt drop to the floor alongside his own as
he pulled his boyfriend close again. He loved this, when they were pressed
together all hot and horny and still exchanging barbs. It was making him hard.

"Such a stud you mean,"
said Atobe, his hand sliding over Ryoma's ass and squeezing lightly.

Ryoma pressed back into the touch,
purposefully pushing Atobe's hand back against the closet wall because he knew
it'd freak him out. "I know what I meant."

"Little prat."
Atobe jerked Ryoma closer, rubbing his knuckles against Ryoma's ass once he was
clear of the wall. Ryoma didn't quite care, however, as closer meant that they
were pressing the lengths of their bodies together in a way that felt utterly
delicious.

"You love it," Ryoma
challenged, golden eyes glittering in the darkness as he pulled Atobe in for
yet another kiss, grinding his hips slowly against Atobe�s.

Atobe moaned softly into Ryoma's
mouth, the way his hold around Ryoma tightened proving far more satisfactory
than his answer when he eventually pulled away and threw out a dare of his own.
"Maybe. Convince me."

Ryoma frowned, there was one easy
way to do that but he wasn't going to start kneeling in a dark closet where
he'd not have the satisfaction of seeing Atobe's face clearly. "Have you
got anything?"

"In a closet?" Atobe sounded amused,
though husky.

"Well, you are a horny bastard," Ryoma pointed out, circling his hips so
their erections rubbed together through the thin material of their shorts
again. It made his breathing hitch, but since he heard Atobe gasp too he didn't
mind.

"Sock," Atobe admitted
after a moment and Ryoma could only blink at first.

"You have lubricant in your sock?" Ryoma couldn't keep the
dubiousness from his voice.

"So it didn't fall out of my
pocket during our match, yes." Atobe was smirking in that totally
unrepentant way of his now that he'd been made to confess, Ryoma knew it.

"You�" Ryoma decided he
didn't have the words. "Stop still," he ordered instead.

"Yes, captain," Atobe
mocked, but he obediently held still as Ryoma carefully crouched down and felt
around for the little squeezable tube that he eventually located tucked safely
into Atobe's right sock.

"You were serious," Ryoma
observed dumbly as he rose again, Atobe's arms sliding
immediately about his waist.

"Yes, I was." Atobe agreed
as he leaned in to tease Ryoma's earlobe with his tongue and teeth in the most
distracting manner.

"Horny bastard," Ryoma
affirmed breathily, fumbling to open the little flip cap on the tube in the
dark. Somehow it wasn't easy to think when he was half-naked and pressed up
against an equally naked Atobe.

"Look who�s talking."
Atobe slid one hand round to cup Ryoma's cock, rubbing his palm against it.
Ryoma couldn't help bucking his hips at the touch, drawing a shaky breath as
Atobe laughed softly in his ear. "You aren't convincing me yet."

"You're distracting me,"
Ryoma countered in a slightly strained tone, squeezing some of the slick fluid
onto his fingers as he attempted to tug Atobe's shorts down both one-handed and
without moving away.

"Making excuses, Echizen?"
This time the words were accompanied by a purposeful squeeze of his erection
and Ryoma found himself choking back the whimper Atobe
was attempting to elicit.

'Baiting Ryoma', Ryoma had long ago
decided, seemed to Atobe's favourite pastime. He should have been used to it
because of that, and really he was, but he still found he had to react on
occasion. This was one such occasion, so he yanked Atobe's shorts down abruptly
and wrapped a rather cool, if slick, hand around his boyfriend's cock. "How's that?"

"Fuck." Atobe's hiss was clearly audible in Ryoma's ear as the
older boy's body jerked.

Ryoma couldn't help smirking widely,
"Oh good."

"Brat," Atobe managed as
Ryoma stroked his cock in one long slow pull. He got a little of his own back
with massaging Ryoma teasingly through his shorts before tugging said shorts
down though. "Give me the lube."

"I thought I was meant to be
convincing you," Ryoma whispered huskily, but he still pressed the little
tube into Atobe's free hand as he rubbed his thumb over the head of Atobe's
sex, smearing the tiny droplets it had begun leaking.

Atobe's breathing was gratifyingly
laboured as the older boy nuzzled Ryoma's cheek. "I can't make it too easy
for you."

Ryoma failed to stifle a gasp when
Atobe returned his previous favour, wrapping an unexpected, slightly cool, lube
coated palm around his newly freed cock. He turned his face to take Atobe's
mouth in a passionate kiss as he tightened his fingers about his boyfriend.

When Atobe moaned, it vibrated
through the kiss and all the way down to Ryoma's toes in a shiver. It sounded
just like sex was always meant to sound to Ryoma, and he couldn't help a
whimper of his own when Atobe grazed his fingers purposefully against the
really sensitive spot just below the head of Ryoma's sex. "Come on,
Echizen. You aren't even trying."

Ryoma took advantage of the fact
Atobe was talking against his mouth to bite the older boy's lower lip in
retaliation. He threaded his fingers through the pubic hair at the base of
Atobe's sex and tugged lightly in a way he knew Atobe liked � it was hardly
surprising considering how the boy liked playing with the locks on his head.

"You're asking for it,"
Ryoma warned.

"I'm trying," Atobe
baited.

Ryoma made a noise low in his throat
that was really most akin to a growl, curling his fingers back around Atobe's
girth and stroking him in long, quick, almost rough pulls that ended with a
little twist of his wrist. His free hand sunk lower to cradle Atobe's balls,
rolling them within their sack until Atobe's forehead dropped against his
shoulder. "How'm I doing?"

"Passable," Atobe groaned,
releasing Ryoma's cock only to pull the boy closer as he wrapped his arms
around him, one finger leaving a cool trail behind as he slid it down the
crevice of Ryoma's ass to circle his opening.

"We're not fucking in
here," Ryoma gasped, lashes fluttering a little as he adjusted his hold on
Atobe to include himself now they'd been pushed so close together.

"No," Atobe agreed,
sliding a finger into Ryoma all the same.

Ryoma couldn't help moaning softly
as a shiver worked through him, forehead falling against Atobe's shoulder in
mimicry of Atobe's earlier move as he continued moving his fist about their
cocks in rough, jerky pulls. It lacked finesse, but it was just what they
needed as they pressed against each other, panting together. When Ryoma spoke,
it was through gritted teeth. "Then what is your finger doing in my ass?"

"I think that'd�" Atobe
broke off with a groan as Ryoma sucked on his neck and brushed his thumb across
Atobe's slit once more. It took a moment before he managed to collect himself
enough to speak and Ryoma was smirking against his throat the whole time.
"�that it'd be obvious, even to someone of your limited intellect."

Ryoma's breath caught in his throat
and his cock twitched as Atobe burrowed the finger deeper inside him, crooking
it with obvious intent. "You bastard," he swore, shuddering against his
boyfriend when Atobe found his target and stroked with unrelenting
determination.

"Just keeping it
interesting," Atobe whispered smugly, his skin sliding slickly against
Ryoma's as he tried to pull him still closer.

Atobe felt burning hot everywhere he
was touching Ryoma, the younger man was so close and so horny right then he
wasn't sure if he cared about winning anymore. Atobe's fingers were an
insistent presence inside him, mercilessly stimulating his prostate. "You
are such-such a cheat."

"Sore loser," Atobe
whimpered.

Ryoma felt a renewed surge of
motivation to just hold off a little longer. He twined his fingers in the wiry
curls at the base of Atobe's cock again, tugging oh so
gently as he jerked him off far more roughly. Atobe's laboured breathing was
music to his ears, a little thrill of triumph surging through Ryoma as the
fingers of his boyfriend's free hand dug into his back. "Loser,
huh?"

"Fuck, fuck, Ryoma�" Atobe broke off
intelligibly as he came in warm sticky spurts that splashed over Ryoma's
fingers and belly, his sex jerking helplessly in Ryoma's hold as he clutched
him almost painfully tight.

For his part, Ryoma was glad for the
support as the tight embrace kept him upright. The first droplets of Atobe's
come hitting his skin were like a signal allowing him to release the hold he'd
been keeping on himself, letting his knees grow as weak as the jelly Atobe's
prolonged stimulation had turned them to. He moaned Atobe's name against his
damp skin, spilling between them in a blinding haze of pleasure. "Keigo."

Ryoma wasn't sure how long they
stood there. They were both fighting to get their breathing under control and
be the first to recover, to be the first to be smug over what they'd reduced
the other to. Atobe did at least finally withdraw his torturous finger to even
the ground a little. The battle was never over, but this was how they liked it
� especially since when they did let up for a little while, it didn't actually
matter. Much.

The door creaking open was
unexpected and most unwelcome, the bright light flooding into the closet
pierced Ryoma's eyes like needles so he squeezed them closed.

"Poor timing, Tezuka,"
Atobe commented mildly, and Ryoma scrunched his eyes more firmly shut as he
pretended he wasn't stood in a closet with Atobe, coated in come while his
shorts were round his ankles.

"You seem to be done,"
Tezuka pointed out with no trace of inflection, which Ryoma found entirely
unfair seeing as how much it was making him blush. Tezuka lapsed into a
reprimand as he continued though, his tone for assigning laps. "You were
careless, you are loud and Ryuzaki-san is not that old. Don't let your guard
down in future, Echizen."

Then the light vanished as the door
fell closed and Atobe started laughing.

Ryoma wasn't sure what else to do
but join him.
- 1
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The Closet