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Madama Butterfly	By : KNW Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > General Views: 3771 -:- 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-Madama Butterfly
- 1
A/N: Written for 30 Lemons, follows events in The
Closet.

Madama Butterfly

Ryoma was increasingly certain he'd slipped into the twilight zone - the only
thing currently lacking was the weird music they usually played on those kinds
of sci-fi programmes. Pinching his thigh, he
surreptitiously glanced past his boyfriend to find that, yes; Tezuka Kunimitsu
was, in fact, still sat on the opposite side of Atobe to Ryoma himself. Not for
the first time Ryoma wondered why?!

This was the same
captain who'd caught the pair of them jerking each other off in a closet just
the other week, and yet the mortification incurred was apparently not enough
for Atobe. No, Atobe had to go and invite Tezuka to the theatre so that Ryoma
had to sit through the whole performance, within half a metre
of Tezuka, acutely aware of the fact he'd literally been caught with his pants
down. It had to be revenge, it was the only explanation. Just because Atobe
came first, he was making Ryoma suffer.

"Ch'." Ryoma slumped back in his seat, sinking down against the limousine's
upholstery as he folded his arms across his chest in irritation.

A flicker of
movement at the corner of his eye alerted Ryoma to Atobe glancing down, a smirk
adorning his lips as he raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong,
Echizen?"

"Nothing,"
Ryoma retorted, looking out of the window rebelliously. The urban scenery sped
by in a whir of coloured lights beyond the tinted
panes, people littering the sidewalks in all kinds of outfits.

What bothered Ryoma
most, when he really considered it, wasn't that he was likely to be half-hard
for the duration of an opera. He knew that Atobe would have achieved that
without help simply because Atobe prided himself on being able to turn Ryoma on
anytime and anywhere. (Ryoma rather liked that about Atobe, too, but he
wouldn't admit it to himself let alone anyone else.) What was bothering him was
that now Tezuka thought Ryoma actually liked all the opulence and luxury Atobe
constantly indulged in to excess. Ryoma should've insisted they get a taxi like
normal people the moment he spotted Tezuka�. A taxi like normal people, to go
and sit in their private box at the most expensive theatre in Tokyo� Oh how he wanted to die right then, or
perhaps merely to kill Atobe.

"We should've
just gone to the cinema," Ryoma muttered to the window as casually as he
could, trying to rescue some of his reputation. The real reason he'd agreed to
the limousine and the private box was because Atobe had sold it to him in terms
of ability to make-out. Except that was all dashed to hell, because he could
hardly make-out with his boyfriend while Tezuka was right there.

A tiny voice
reminded him that Atobe and he had quite happily indulged in mutual
masturbation with Tezuka right there last week.

He told it to shut up quite firmly. And just in time to hear Tezuka speak up.

"Really?" Tezuka sounded faintly surprised,
his frown apparent to Ryoma in his tone. "I've always wanted to see Madama Butterfly."

Oh. Ryoma blinked, mouthing wordlessly as he groped for some way to
back-peddle and ended up simply gaping like a landed fish as his boyfriend
stepped into the breach.

"I find the debate surrounding it fascinating," said Atobe.

Ryoma found himself faced with a dilemma; pretend to
know what the hell they were talking about and no doubt fall flat on his face
in a more mortifying way than even Horio could
manage, or confess his ignorance. There really wasn't much choice when one was
dating Atobe and in the vicinity of Tezuka. "Ch'.
What debate?"

"Didn't you look at the brochure I gave you, Echizen?" needled Atobe.

Ryoma felt fully justified in elbowing Atobe in the side for his troubles,
earning a sharp intake of air from his lover. "I have a lot of work
on," he explained for Tezuka's benefit, because he knew that keeping up
with studies generally impressed his captain when they were still at school
together. He decided not to reflect on why it was still important to impress
Tezuka now that he'd reached senior year of high school himself.

"You probably ought to have read up a little, Echizen," Tezuka
responded, entirely failing to keep up a united Seigaku
front in the face of Hyotei jibes. Obviously his old
captain had a side that had entirely escaped Ryoma, and now he really was
floundering.

Atobe wasn't helping in the least as he muffled what sounded like a snort of
laughter in a faked sneeze before folding his handkerchief up meticulously, as
if its existence proved he hadn't been laughing at all. "Hard at work, yet
you can still spend the evening out, hm?"

Traitors. Ryoma wanted to say it aloud, to both
of them, but he didn't. He hadn't felt as young and ignorant as he did right
then for years. Not since Tezuka had still attended high school and he'd
been a freshman, and even then it took a special something to result in this
sort of embarrassment. Usually Atobe's presence.

"You were the one who wanted me to come," Ryoma huffed, turning
towards the window more fully to nurse his wounded pride. "If I'd known
you were inviting someone else I wouldn't have bothered." Ryoma added
pointedly. He didn't care for a moment that he sounded petulant and jealous to
Tezuka, he cared that Atobe had sold this to him as an evening out for the pair
of them. He'd said there would be making-out, and maybe enjoying the opera a
bit, and being a couple. And then Atobe had gone and invited Ryoma's crush
along to make a nice not-so-cosy threesome despite
everything he'd said, and he'd not even warned Ryoma before he was in the
limousine and saw Tezuka with his own eyes.

"Echizen�" Tezuka began before cutting off.

It was swiftly clear why as Atobe shifted closer to press along Ryoma's back,
winding an arm around Ryoma's middle and pressing his lips to Ryoma's ear. He
didn't say anything, but he didn't really need to either. Ryoma relaxed back into
the embrace, telling himself he was obviously being stupid as he turned his
face towards Atobe's. His lips were immediately caught in a kiss, quite gentle
and chaste for them. It was nice though, to think Atobe was willing to be
sentimental in front of Tezuka.

When Atobe broke the kiss, he regarded Ryoma seriously. "Tezuka and I were
discussing the opera today and he mentioned he'd never seen it, so I invited
him as it's closing here soon."

"I'm sorry if my presence is a problem, Echizen." Tezuka added, sounding rather like he had a broom handle wedged up his arse. Then again, they had just been smooching right in
front of Tezuka so maybe he had a right to sound uncomfortable.

That realization made Ryoma feel even more like it had been a stupid fuss over
nothing, so he shrugged out of Atobe's embrace, determined not to act like some
sappy girl. "Ch'." He repeated for the third
time in what was possibly as many minutes before glancing across at the pair of
them and asking carefully, "What's this debate then?"

"Well�" Began Tezuka cautiously, evidently wanting to make amends.

"Ah�" Started Atobe, at exactly the same time.

Ryoma watched as they turned to look at each other, with what was presumably
irritation, and quickly twisted back toward the window. He pushed his first two
knuckles into his mouth, biting down on them to keep from laughing out loud. He
couldn't help hunching over in his seat, suppressed giggles hurting his stomach
and shaking his small frame. It was simply too funny, to go from being pissed
off to having two captains rushing to make amends�

"I'm glad somebody's amused," Atobe remarked dryly, and Ryoma could
only nod in response as he drew in a deep breath for much needed oxygen. When
Ryoma saw Atobe's expression though, he knew Atobe was amused too. Even Tezuka
had that telltale little twitchy smile attempting to break free of his stoic
control.

~*^*~

Atobe and Tezuka
had, between them, managed to explain the general idea of the plot to Ryoma by
the time they'd arrived. It went something along the lines of: a moron Geisha
girl, with an idiot name like Butterfly, got all besotted with a stupid
American (most probably just like Kevin Smith) and married him, and rejected
her heritage and family and everything. Then said arrogant prick, who Ryoma was
calling Kevin just because, went swanning off back to
America to shack up with some western bimbo, who wore short skirts, while the
poor insect wept and moped around in Japan. Then the Butterfly had a baby and
Kevin, who had no intention of coming back, eventually turned up with his
sidekick Billy. Then Butterfly discovered she'd been duped for the
short-skirt-Slut-Of-Doom and killed herself so Kevin had to take the baby.

Obviously the logical solution. Not.

Ryoma had a few moments to contemplate what deep and meaningful comment he
could make on the plot as he dived out of the limousine before the
driver�chauffer could open the door for him. It was his own personal rebellion
against the whole stupidity of such a big car and the fact that it was even
more stupid to have servants running to open the door when he could perfectly
well do it himself. The driver had been shocked the first time, but he soon
learned to keep his expression blank at Ryoma's uncouth antics while Atobe
predictably rolled his eyes and slid out at a more sedate pace behind his
boyfriend.

Turning the plot over one more time in his head, Ryoma looked back to where
Tezuka was following Atobe out of the limousine with every bit of poise and
dignity that Ryoma had thought only Atobe could pull off. He blinked a moment, then forged on ahead anyway. "Girls are stupid."

"Excuse me?" Atobe raised an eyebrow, evidently having lost track of
the conversation. Probably whilst he was eyeing Ryoma's escaping arse knowing Atobe.

"Stop checking me out and concentrate, monkey-king," Ryoma poked him
in the arm for emphasis. "Madama Butterfly �
girls are stupid."

Tezuka had the faintest rose hue on his cheeks, which puzzled Ryoma as it
wasn't like the captain to be bothered by words. Atobe's announcement
distracted him from Tezuka's curious behaviour
though. "Trust you to entirely miss the point, Echizen."

"He�er, he does have a point, Atobe."
Tezuka stepped in, not looking at Ryoma as he turned to close the limousine
door and ended up figuratively treading on the driver's toes. Most unlike the
Tezuka that Ryoma knew, though he was pleased that his old captain had finally
caught on to the united front idea.

"If you're willing to concede grade school answers as points," Atobe
retorted derisively, but still took Ryoma's hand as he moved to head into the
theatre.

For his part, Ryoma was sorely tempted to yank his hand away as he scowled
mutinously at the glass doors ahead. His fingers curled around Atobe's entirely
against his will though, and then Atobe's thumb swept across the back of his
hand distractingly.

"Are you talking about the symbolic bullshit?"

"Echizen," Tezuka reprimanded automatically from behind them.
It made Ryoma abruptly conscious of his hand in Atobe's being right there
in front of Tezuka's gaze and he let go to shove his hands in his pockets
instead.

"Yes, Echizen." Atobe chimed in.
Ryoma was fairly sure it was just to be annoying, although Atobe did look
mildly concerned over Ryoma's withdrawal. Ryoma shrugged awkwardly in response
and glanced pointedly behind them, which resulted in Atobe's expression
morphing to a smirk. "So what symbolic crap did you notice?"

Make that: Ryoma was certain it was just to be annoying, but he could help
being amused by Tezuka's exasperated sigh. "Atobe."

"Yes, Atobe." Ryoma felt obliged to
add, grinning widely. It was then that he realised
Atobe had successfully steered him through the glass doors without letting him
open any for himself and so the grin faded a little. "Ch', where can I get
some popcorn?"

"You're not eating popcorn at an opera." Atobe didn't make it a
question, he just told him.

Ryoma immediately felt rebellious. "Who says?"

"Echizen," Tezuka broke in. "Theatres don't sell popcorn."

"I could fetch some," Ryoma maintained stubbornly.

"You will not," Atobe instructed him.

Ryoma turned on his heel to go back out the door and do precisely that anyway.

Tezuka didn�t even try to intervene; he was pinching the bridge of his nose as
if to ward off an impending migraine.

In the end, Ryoma didn't get very far as Atobe slid an arm around him waist and
easily turned and dipped Ryoma as he kissed him breathless. Ryoma would have
protested, but he was breathless and the best he could do was grab onto the
lapels of Atobe's jacket and give as good as he got.

When someone pointedly cleared their throat, Ryoma's first thought was that it
had to Tezuka so he immediately felt self-conscious and shoved at Atobe's chest
in an attempt to get away. Thankfully Atobe didn't actually let Ryoma go, or
the younger man would've ended up sprawled in a graceless heap in the foyer.

As it turned out, it hadn't been Tezuka at all. It was some theatre employee
that Ryoma barely acknowledged as he made a token effort to finger comb his
hair whilst licking his lips dazedly.

"You can have ice-cream," Atobe told him, looking totally unruffled
as he turned to the smartly dressed young woman. "Can I help you?"

Ryoma could see the corner of Tezuka's mouth twitching in that suppressed smile
again, though his old captain was also holding himself with the stiff
awkwardness of a third wheel on a lovey-dovey couple's date. It made Ryoma
wrinkle his nose in distaste; he and Atobe weren't like that at all.

The woman Atobe was speaking to had gone from determined to flustered
in the face of Atobe's entirely unabashed behaviour.
Perhaps she'd meant to reprove him and wasn�t sure how when he wasn't showing
the least trace of guilt, or perhaps she'd realised
who he was now he'd stopped mashing mouths with Ryoma in the middle of the
lobby. Ryoma didn't really care since Atobe had mentioned ice-cream. "Hey
captain?" Ryoma asked, digging his hands in his pockets and hoping his
mouth wasn't too flushed and kiss bruised as Tezuka looked toward him.
"Where'd they sell the ice-cream?"

"It�s this way." Tezuka turned to lead Ryoma away towards a queue at
a little stand not far off and Ryoma took the opportunity to hastily wipe his
mouth on the back of his hand � not that he didn't entirely enjoy making-out
with Atobe, but Tezuka had been right there. Atobe would no doubt be
unbearably smug over managing to make him forget that fact later. Perhaps for
that, if nothing else, Ryoma didn't bother to point out to Atobe exactly where
Tezuka and he were going. His boyfriend would have heard and they were hardly
going out of sight anyway.

Tezuka stopped at the back of the line, reading off the menu over everyone
else's heads silently. "Are you sure you don't want to wait until the
interval? There are two."

"Why?" Ryoma asked blankly. "I can just have more then."

Tezuka shot him a look that didn�t need words. It was one that spoke
resoundingly of Ryoma's professional tennis career and the need to take care of
his health. Ryoma ignored it. "Do they sell ponta?"

"Yes," said Tezuka, resigned.

"I'll have some of that too then," Ryoma told Tezuka, revelling in being a brat. "Atobe's paying."

"Am I?" asked Atobe, coming up behind them. He sounded amused.

"Yes," Ryoma affirmed. "How'd it go?"

Atobe held up a card, smirking, "She gave me her number."

"Stupid slut," said Ryoma, grabbing the card in question to have a
look. "It's pink."

"Echizen." Tezuka reproved him again,
though Ryoma wasn't sure if it was for his language, his derision, or both.

Atobe just stood a little behind Ryoma and looked smug.

"It's pink, captain." Ryoma held it up for Tezuka to see as
they took a step forward in the queue. "And she just watched him make-out
with another guy."

Tezuka looked away from the card, meeting Ryoma's gaze calmly. "I know;
you were rather hard to miss."

Ryoma felt his cheeks heat abruptly, and it only intensified as he realised Tezuka had just turned the tables on him every bit
as effectively as Atobe had done with the 'stupid slut'. "Ch', that was my
point," he grumbled, passing the card back to Atobe, who slid it inside
his inner jacket pocket. "Girls are stupid."

"So you've said, Echizen," Atobe observed, mimicking Tezuka's tone. "Repeatedly."

Ryoma opened his mouth to give voice to what would surely have been a
breathtakingly scathing insult, one that would have left Atobe sobbing on the
floor, but Tezuka interrupted. "It's your turn."

"Oh," said Ryoma stupidly before he recollected himself. "Grape ponta and strawberry
ice-cream." Tezuka cleared his throat, and after a couple of
seconds of regarding him perplexedly Ryoma realised
what he was getting at and added, "Please."

The server looked amused, turning away to retrieve the requested purchases from
the cooler whilst Ryoma looked back at Atobe. "You want something?"

"I'll share your ice-cream," Atobe responded, finding his wallet as
Ryoma moved to the side without protest. "Would you like anything,
Tezuka?"

"No, thank you."

Ryoma grabbed the purchases as soon as they were set down, pointedly ignoring
Atobe's expression. It was that amused look Atobe got when he thought Ryoma was
being �cute� in some way and Ryoma always lost when he tried challenging it so
he'd learnt not to bother. "What time does it start again?"

"Soon," answered Tezuka as Atobe finished paying and slid his wallet
back into his pocket. "We should find our seats."

Atobe took the ice-cream from Ryoma with one hand, taking hold of Ryoma's newly
freed hand with his other. His grip was secure so Ryoma couldn't easily tug
free, no matter how embarrassed he might be in front of Tezuka. As a result he
just stayed quiet and didn't look at his old captain as Atobe instructed them
both, "Follow me."

~*^*~

In the end Ryoma
found himself sandwiched between Tezuka and Atobe in their box, with Tezuka
nearest the stage so he could more easily avoid watching the pair of them share
the ice-cream. Ryoma was rather glad really, there was enough indignity
involved in being fed by Atobe without Tezuka for an audience. Of course, he'd
still never stopped Atobe from doing it.

The ice-cream had been gone pretty quickly though, because the tiny tubs they
sold in the theatre really weren't enough for two adults to share � which Atobe
and Ryoma were even if they never acted like it. Then they'd settled to
watching the performance, hands clasped on the armrest between them, and that
was how they'd stayed until approaching the end of the first act. Ryoma had
even been watching attentively enough to appreciate it might be halfway decent,
if you liked that sort of thing.

Not long before the interval was expected to begin, however, Atobe had shifted
their hands to rest on Ryoma's knee. It was a little odd and rather distracting
to Ryoma's point of view. Atobe hadn't been looking at Ryoma when Ryoma glanced
his way either, which almost made it more odd and definitely more suspicious.
He shifted in his seat and tried to tug Atobe's hand back to the armrest. The
only hand that got there, though, was his own. Atobe's
remained rebelliously on his knee, palm down and fingers splayed. "Ch'."

The soft huff of annoyance that accompanied the curse caused Tezuka to glance
his way, a frown creasing the skin between his brows. Ryoma met Tezuka's gaze
as calmly as he could manage, his 'nothing wrong here' expression severely
tested as Atobe's hand slid sideways and up along his inner thigh. It was all
he could do not to glance down, or at Atobe, or something.

It had become abruptly and abundantly clear just what Atobe was intending, and
Ryoma's body was responding to the challenge against his will. They couldn't do
that in a theatre, in a room with hundreds of people and Tezuka
right beside them. Except� those thoughts weren't helping him stay calm. Atobe
knew Ryoma's secret little kink, and he was shamelessly exploiting it.

As Tezuka looked back to the stage, Ryoma turned to Atobe. "Bastard."
His voice was a low hiss.

If not for the smirk
that took Atobe's lips, Ryoma might've thought he hadn't been heard. His
boyfriend certainly didn't react in any other way as he, like Tezuka, continued
to concentrate on the performance. A performance that Ryoma was entirely sure
he couldn�t follow while Atobe was kneading the sensitive skin of his inner
thigh through his suit pants.

What he wanted to do was reach and grab Atobe's hand and pull it away, except
that not only would that admit defeat but he really wanted Atobe to
carry on more than he wanted to save himself from certain humiliation.

He ended up folding his arms across his chest stubbornly and fixed his gaze on
the stage.

Then Atobe moved so the side of his hand was rocking insistently against
Ryoma's cock.

If Ryoma had been succeeding in ignoring it before that, and if he had been it
had been rather poorly, he certainly wasn�t any longer. The teasing friction
Atobe was creating had him rapidly hardening and, when Atobe shifted his hand
again so he was fondling Ryoma's semi-erect cock directly, Ryoma soon gave up
all hope of avoiding the inevitable.

Instead, Ryoma curled his fingers around the ends of the armrests, hoping to
find someway to maintain control for the next minute or two. It had to be
almost the interval right? He was sure it was supposed to be about now. If it
wasn't, he was going to end up humiliating himself by making some wanton noise.

Sucking in a sharp breath as Atobe squeezed, it was all he could do not
to buck up into the touch. He immediately bit his lip to stifle any further
sound but Tezuka had already noticed again, and was, in fact, looking, again.
Ryoma wondered distantly what his expression was like, if his eyes were as
round and wide as they felt while he struggled to maintain eye contact. In his
head the mantra 'don't look down' was repeating over and over.

There was something about Tezuka's gaze that didn�t help; something about those
beautiful, clueless brown eyes that were so serious behind their lenses. Or
perhaps it was simply the fact that Tezuka was looking right at him while Atobe
was stroking his cock. It was dizzying, the way Tezuka was managing to be so
much a part of it without knowing at all. It made his cock twitch beneath
Atobe's touch, which his boyfriend only took as encouragement, and he had to
fight the urge to close his eyes and just enjoy. Already his lashes were
fluttering unhelpfully; he couldn't imagine how Tezuka was failing to realise what was going on, even without seeing Ryoma's lap.

At long last, what seemed like eons later, Tezuka's attention returned to the
performance that was holding everyone else captive. Ryoma's initially firm hold
on the armrests had graduated to a white knuckled grip in the passing minutes,
and by the time applause broke out he was struggling to breathe quietly and
unobtrusively through his nose.

Ryoma didn't hesitate for a second in leaping from his seat, not even for the
curtain to fall. He vaguely remembered saying something to Tezuka about seeing
him in the bar, but then he was grabbing Atobe's hand and dragging him toward
the toilets without even trying to conceal the reason. Then again, there was
only Tezuka and Atobe to notice just then. Ryoma was quite sure that Atobe was
laughing in his wake, but he decided he'd be irritated over the fact later. At
that exact moment all he cared about was finding an empty cubicle and making
Atobe finish what he'd started.

And within half a minute, that was exactly where they were. Atobe had locked
the door behind them and turned the tables on Ryoma, pressing the younger man
up against the wall and grinding their hips together as he engaged him in a
heated kiss. Ryoma couldn't find it in him to complain about that either,
wreathing his arms up around Atobe's neck as he just hung on for the ride.

Ryoma could still taste the faint hint of strawberry and tangy sauce from the
ice-cream in Atobe's mouth; it made him want to lick along Atobe's teeth for
more, so he did. He wondered if he tasted like ponta
to Atobe, or if Atobe would still be able to taste strawberry on him despite
the drink. In the end, he decided, so long as Atobe kept kissing him, it didn't
really matter.

Already aroused, Atobe's proximity and the heady joining of their mouths did nothing
to alleviate Ryoma's situation. Stuck in his suit jacket as he was, he felt
seriously overheated and struggled to shove it off. The warm, firm, promise of
Atobe's hands against his sides through the thin material of his shirt made him
feel even hotter, so hot that even the cool bathroom tile against his cheek
when he turned his head didn't help.

Atobe trailed sucking kisses down his throat, deftly unbuttoning Ryoma's shirt
with a practiced ease Ryoma envied. It had felt like it had taken ages to do up,
and he wouldn't even start on the tie. Ryoma hated dressing up to go
out. "Keigo," said Ryoma, or at least he meant to � it came
out more like a breathy gasp.

"Hm?" Atobe had
already reached his trousers, undoing button and zip and letting them pool around
Ryoma's ankles as he slid a hand inside Ryoma's underwear.

Ryoma's eyes rolled as Atobe's hand closed about his cock. With his boyfriend's
mouth leaving a damp trail down his chest as he moved south, there was no way
he couldn't see what was coming. Fuck did he want it so badly right then.
"Keigo�" he repeated, to no more effect than the first time.

Atobe smirked at him as he dropped gracefully to his knees. It was a place that
Ryoma had never imagined seeing Atobe when they'd first gotten together, but it
turned out that his boyfriend rather liked sucking his cock. Atobe liked it
because he was good at it and he could make Ryoma totally and utterly lose
control of himself. After all, it always boiled down to having power over
people with Atobe. Seeing as he was that good though, Ryoma considered
abstaining to be more trouble than it was worth. He could always get his own
back later.

With Atobe's descent, his hands had ended up resting against the back of
Atobe's neck in a very loose loop. Now as Atobe pulled down Ryoma's boxers and
breathed over his cock, still cradling it in his hand gently, Ryoma moved to
grip Atobe's shoulders for support instead. His knees really weren't up to the
challenge, particularly when Atobe followed the tantalising,
warm exhales with a slow drag of his tongue across the head of Ryoma's cock.
Ryoma could only let out an embarrassingly shuddery sigh and tighten his grip
on Atobe's shoulders in response.

That was when the door to the rest room creaked open with the ominous entry of
the first of hundreds of other male theatre patrons. Ryoma's expression was
reminiscent of the wide eyed look he'd met Tezuka with when he'd turned to him
during the play, but far more horrified. "Oh shit."

Atobe chuckled softly, his breathy laughter a maddening sensation against
Ryoma's exposed cock. The sinful smirk Atobe directed his way before
deliberately twirling his tongue about him didn't help in the least either. It
made it quite clear Atobe had no intention of stopping, and Ryoma wasn't sure
that was an even remotely bad thing as he bit down on his first two knuckles,
trying to muffle his sounds of pleasure against his hand as Atobe finally took
him into his mouth.

Atobe's mouth� Well, Ryoma loved Atobe's mouth when the man had his lips wrapped
around Ryoma's cock. It was the only time Ryoma would ever concede that Atobe's
boastful claims that people should be in awe of his prowess might have
grounding in fact, but he still only admitted as much in his head.

Ryoma groaned low in his throat, fingers digging into Atobe's shoulder as he
tried to centre himself. He was only thankful that Atobe was holding his hips
so firmly or he was sure he'd be bucking helplessly into his boyfriend's mouth.

He could hear voices outside, the splashing of water in the sink as people
washed their hands and footsteps moving back and forth past the cubicle.
Partially it terrified him to keep hearing the door open, and eventually the
sound of the cubicle beside theirs being entered. However, he knew he'd be lying
if he said it didn't excite him. There was something wholly arousing about
watching Atobe's mouth slide up and down his cock as booted feet passed only
half a metre away.

"K-k'," Ryoma didn't even managed to choke out Atobe's name fully as
he bit down on his knuckles. Heat was pooling in his groin and his legs were
trembling in anticipation. Atobe kept sucking and lapping and teasing him
relentlessly as he drove him closer and closer to the brink. Then Atobe
deliberately rubbed his tongue hard just below the head of Ryoma's cock and
Ryoma saw stars; quite possibly as a result of the concussion he likely
incurred by smacking his head against the wall.

"Fuck," Ryoma hissed as he came, unable to muster the
coherence to be romantic enough to say Atobe's name while his head throbbed
from the collision. The sensations were overwhelming. The intense pleasure was
made almost painful as Atobe continued to suck him gently after he was spent,
and the dull throbbing in his head promised a migraine when he returned to the
opera. "Just fuck."

Atobe snickered softly, standing and straightening his clothing before planting
a light kiss on Ryoma's lips. "Remember to get dressed before you go
outside," he instructed, and that was all before he let himself out of the
cubicle. Ryoma barely remembered to lock the door behind him before someone had
tried it, and that more than any previous offence was what doomed Atobe to
suffer reprisal later in the evening.

It took Ryoma long moments to get his clothes and pants back to some semblance
of order, and the whole time he was planning how best to exact his revenge.

~*^*~

Atobe was leaning
against the bar beside Tezuka, sipping from one of his cocktails, when Ryoma
emerged from the bathroom. Ryoma suspected he still looked rather flushed, and
Atobe's cat that got the cream smirk was less than helpful in keeping up any
pretence regarding what they'd been doing, but he still rallied himself with a
deep breath and strolled over to join them as casually as he could.

"You've got come on your pants, Echizen." Atobe drawled.

"What?!" Ryoma fell for it hook, line
and sinker as he looked down frantically, only to have Atobe start snickering
into his cocktail.

If he hadn't been certain it would probably get them kicked out, he'd have
tipped the rest of Atobe's drink over his prissily styled hair. As it was Ryoma
knew his face was absolutely flaming as he met Tezuka's far, far too calm gaze.
"Um�"

"It's ok, Echizen." Tezuka told him, holding out a can of ponta as a mischievous twinkle entered his eyes.
"Atobe has it in his hair."

Atobe choking on his thousand yen mouthful of stupidly named alcohol just about
made Ryoma's evening. He found himself grinning widely at Tezuka as took the
proffered can, "Thanks, captain."

Tezuka's lips twitched with one of his tiny little smiles. "You're
welcome, Echizen." He turned to pick up his drink, taking a sip before
continuing, "Are you enjoying the opera?"

Ryoma glanced at Atobe briefly, only to find Atobe had recovered his coughing
fit and was regarding him in return with a knowing little smirk. Ryoma glared;
he was all too aware that Atobe was just trying to make him blush again and it
was so not going to happen.

Taking a fortifying breath, he looked back at Tezuka. "It seems good, if
you like that sort of thing." Inwardly, he was already face-palming. That
had been rather less than the suave, intelligent response he'd been
envisioning.

Tezuka only looked amused as he observed, "But you don't 'like that sort
of thing'."

Ryoma really wished Tezuka's opinion didn't matter to him quite so much as it
did, but he knew he'd lose Tezuka's respect if he lied to him. And, really,
Tezuka had never given any sign that he'd thought less of Ryoma for it, or that
he'd have been remotely more interested even if Ryoma had been more cultured.
At the end of the day, Ryoma was more than happy with Atobe anyway, even if the
man was a total asshole.

"Not really," Ryoma admitted at length, grin sheepish. "But I
don't mind."

Atobe took that moment to wreath a possessive arm about Ryoma's waist, pulling
him close against his side. Ryoma had to wonder sometimes if Atobe somehow knew
exactly when he thought about Tezuka, he certainly managed to react as though
he did. It was especially embarrassing when it happened in front of Tezuka, but
he didn't try and shove Atobe away as the older man purred, "Just a bit of
rough, aren't you Echizen?"

Ryoma could feel his cheeks getting hotter and elbowed Atobe lightly for his
trouble. All the same he was amused, grin still in place as he relaxed back
into Atobe's hold, hand coming down to rest over Atobe's at his waist. "Whatever, monkey-king."

Atobe smirked, looking for all the world like he'd won
despite the insult. "Are you enjoying it, Tezuka?"

"Yes," Tezuka responded easily. If their behaviour
was bothering him, it wasn't showing and Ryoma wasn�t sure whether to be
disappointed by the fact or not. "I find it fascinating."

"That means he likes it," Atobe relayed to Ryoma, who snorted on a
laugh.

"I know what fascinating means, you bastard," Ryoma muttered, raising
his can to take another sip of ponta. He was only
just resisting the temptation to elbow Atobe again because he didn't really
want to bruise his boyfriend. "What's 'fascinating' about it?"

Atobe snorted and Tezuka looked amused as he sipped from his glass again. It
did rather look like water if Ryoma as honest, and knowing Tezuka it probably was
water. "The dynamic between the characters, actually seeing the
relationship that resulted in so much debate is very interesting," Tezuka
explained as he set his glass back down.

"I guess," Ryoma admitted. "I still think it just proves girls
are stupid."

"It's a good job you're dating a man then," said Atobe, raising a
hand to signal the barman over.

Tezuka still had that faint look of amusement on his face, and it made Ryoma
feel more relaxed as he responded to Atobe, "Yes." He flashed Tezuka
a grin as he added, "But he's stupid too."

"Brat," Atobe muttered, biting back any further retort as the barman
approached. "Two vodka and cokes, please."

"They serve vodka at the theatre?" Ryoma asked, baffled.

"They serve a lot of hard liquor actually," said Tezuka.

Ryoma blinked, "But they don't serve popcorn?"

"Echizen." Atobe was employing his best
'don't be an idiot' tone. "Who do you know who eats popcorn with hard
liquor?"

"My dad," Ryoma responded dryly.

Atobe was silent for a moment, during which Ryoma suppressed a laugh until his
boyfriend settled on, "Well� exactly." Then Ryoma just laughed out
loud.

Atobe rolled his eyes. "Did you want another drink, Tezuka?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Tezuka had in fact still got most of his glass
of� water? "I think it's due to start again soon if you're ready to
return?"

"Of course, let me get these."

~*^*~

For the second part, thanks to Tezuka and his wonderful always prepared
boy-scout nature, Ryoma had been traded some pain killers to tackle his
headache in return for sacrificing the alcohol Atobe had ordered. That said
though, Ryoma wasn't really paying so much attention to the performance any
longer. Being Ryoma, he didn't particularly see his lack of interest as a
problem either, not when Atobe had paid for the tickets and dragged him along
by his hair. No, instead of watching and listening, Ryoma spent the second act
of the opera waiting and timing. He was calculating and plotting, his gaze
spending more time flitting between Tezuka and Atobe than resting on the stage
where it belonged. He felt like he was on tenterhooks throughout, in an
entirely different way than most of the audience, and he knew with almost
certainty that Atobe was entirely anticipating the assault he intended to
embark upon.

It was about fifteen minutes before the next intermission that Ryoma slid his
foot free of his uncomfortable dress shoe. He'd already adjusted his position
so his body was angled toward his boyfriend earlier, and now he could slowly
rub his foot against Atobe's ankle. In and of itself, it was hardly stimulating
Ryoma knew, but given current circumstance and the events of the last act�
well, he and Atobe would both know.

From the corner of his eye Ryoma noted when Atobe's gaze flicked towards him,
and it took everything he had to keep his own stare on the stage. It seemed
rather entertaining that he was paying it more attention now that he'd begun
his little tease than beforehand, but he could share that joke with Atobe in
private later.

Allowing seemingly long moments, ones that were rather shorter in reality, to
slide past, Ryoma kept his patience until he deemed it time to begin rubbing
his thumb against the back of Atobe's hand lightly. His boyfriend tightened his
grip in a brief squeeze in response, more than welcoming Ryoma's advances.

It gave Ryoma pause for thought; this was what Atobe wanted after all.
He liked drawing Ryoma out enough to persuade him into public demonstrations of
affection such as the kiss in the lobby. Usually he had to trick Ryoma into it,
either sneakily like holding Ryoma's hand during the performances, or more
directly by issuing a challenge. Ryoma always recognised
the fact, but somehow he usually rose to the bait anyway.

It startled him to realise exactly what that told him
about his feelings for Keigo and he instinctively squeezed Atobe's hand in his
own. It made Atobe glance at him sharply, surprised but not the least bit
hostile or disturbed. In fact, after a moment, he smirked. It was that lazy
smug expression that prodded Ryoma into action again, reminding him that
whatever dumb revelations he thought he might have had, he had a mission.

Ryoma pulled his hand free to rest it on Atobe's thigh in mimicry of his
boyfriend's earlier move. His foot had already stopped his teasing and returned
to its dressy confines ready for the entirely probable hasty retreat they'd end
up beating to the bathroom.

Atobe was looking far too relaxed about the supposed ordeal. In fact, he even
went so far as to spread his thighs a little wider as Ryoma slid his palm along
the sleek, suit clad muscle. There wasn't an ounce of fat on Atobe's body,
Ryoma was sure because he'd inspected every inch at Atobe's behest in an
attempt to find grounds to send said boyfriend into a snit. It would've been
highly entertaining for Ryoma, but in the end the fact was that Atobe was like
steel beneath his perfect skin. Ryoma liked it rather too much sometimes.

Leaning over enough that his lips brushed against Atobe's ear, he whispered
lowly, "Slut."

Atobe smirked, reaching up to catch Ryoma's head in that position before
turning his face to kiss him. It wasn't a sweet little kiss either, it was one of
Atobe's deep and plundering kisses. The type Atobe had used to give him when
they first started dating, as if he was asserting his right to his territory.
He bit Ryoma's lips lightly and sucked on Ryoma's tongue in an all too accurate
imitation of his enviable skill in fellatio.

Ryoma did the only thing any self-respecting teenager could do when on the
receiving end of one of Atobe Keigo's kisses. He made a tiny little moaning
sound and squeezed Atobe's cock through his dress pants. It was just enough to
get Atobe to relent with a silent but pleasure-filled exhale.

"You love it," Atobe all but purred against Ryoma's mouth, his
fingers curling through Ryoma's hair to keep him anchored in place as he ran
his tongue across Ryoma's lower lip.

Ryoma was rather less happy than Atobe with the arrangement he'd been manoeuvred into, but it didn't stop him rubbing the heel of
his hand against Atobe's trapped cock. In his current position he knew that
should Tezuka so much as glance at him, he'd know exactly what Ryoma was doing.
In fact, Ryoma had little doubt that Tezuka would already have looked and recognised. It was a mortifying idea and prompted a softly
hissed whisper, "Let go."

"No," Atobe responded, sucking Ryoma's lower lip into his mouth in a
highly distracting way before engaging him in another heated kiss.

At his back, Ryoma could hear and almost feel Tezuka shifting in place. It left
almost no doubt that Tezuka had not only noticed, but was proceeding past that
to feeling entirely awkward about the situation. "Bastard," Ryoma
hissed against Atobe's mouth.

"Your bastard," retorted Atobe, nipping Ryoma's lower lip
lightly before pulling back as Ryoma's fingers on his concealed cock made his
breathing hitch.

Ryoma felt it was entirely unfair of Atobe to do that, it always was. Whenever
Atobe said anything remotely sentimental or endearing, he always did it in an
exasperating manner while Ryoma was attempting to be pissed off with him. It
meant that somehow, Ryoma never quite succeeded in staying irked because some
small part of him was melting.

"You're infuriating," he muttered, even as he tucked his head against
Atobe's shoulder of his own volition.

Atobe turned his head to rest his cheek against Ryoma's, hand dropping to the
back of Ryoma's neck. Ryoma made an appreciative noise; the back of his neck
was rather sensitive and feeling Atobe's fingertips grazing the skin there was
entirely too pleasant.

"'s good," Atobe murmured softly, voice husky. Ryoma smirked in
amusement as he'd had already realised as much when Atobe'd begun rocking up into his touch a few seconds
before. It would have been just like Atobe to try and deny that fact later
though.

Ryoma chuckled softly, thumbing the button of Atobe's dress pants through its
hole just as the audience erupted. It shocked Ryoma as he hadn't realised quite how much time had passed, but he still had
enough wit to pull back so Atobe didn't shoulder him in the face in his haste
to get up. Ryoma ended up not even thinking about where he was going as he was
dragged away, a fleeting glimpse of Tezuka staring after them registering to
his mind right before Atobe towed him round the corner and out of sight.

Until that moment, it hadn't occurred to him that quite possibly it bothered
Atobe that Ryoma paid so much heed to Tezuka's opinion of him when they were
together. Sure, he and Atobe were hardly the doting couple, but if Atobe had
been looking to Tezuka all the time it might have bothered Ryoma.

As soon as he'd closed the door behind him, locking it, he turned and pulled
Atobe down into a lingering kiss. It was remarkably gentle for him, and even
more surprising was how easily Atobe accepted it as he pulled Ryoma close. Of
course, being Atobe, he had to slide his hands down to grope Ryoma's ass. But
then, being Ryoma, Ryoma had already thrown several bites into the kiss.

Atobe appeared bemused when Ryoma finally pulled away, but he never asked why.
He just kissed Ryoma briefly on the lips and then pressed Ryoma on the top of
his head to indicate he should get on with it.

Ryoma rolled his eyes and finished the job he'd started in the main auditorium,
sliding the button free of its hole and undoing Atobe's zip as he stole another
hungrier kiss. One hand cupped the back of Atobe's head, Ryoma rising on his
toes to keep the kiss up as he slid a hand inside Atobe's trousers. No
underwear, of course, just Atobe's hard cock waiting for him to wrap his
fingers about the girth and he was happy to oblige as he let Atobe's trousers
drop to the floor.

He stroked in long slow pulls, ones he knew would tantalise
Atobe without really offering any satisfaction. While he had no intention of
drawing it all out too long, he wanted to make his boyfriend suffer and squirm
at least a little bit.

Atobe was panting against his mouth by the time he at last slid down to his
knees. Ryoma kept Atobe's gaze as he slowly dragged his tongue across the head
of his boyfriend's sex, lapping up the few drops of precome
it had already begun to leak. He repeated the action several times as Atobe's
hands curled into fists by his sides.

Ryoma couldn't really explain why, but for some reason he was terribly fond of
sucking Atobe's cock. Especially when he got to watch Atobe's gaze turning a
dark slate grey as he took the older man's length into his mouth, relaxing his
throat as it slid deeper. It had taken him far too long to learn how to do it
without choking, but these days he could take Atobe all the way in until his
nose was buried in Atobe's pubic hair.

Atobe lowered one hand to cradle the back of Ryoma's head, not applying any
pressure at all. No matter how many times he'd done it, Ryoma'd yet to leave
Atobe in a state where he was pulling Ryoma's hair, and so Ryoma almost saw it
as a goal. He knew it wouldn't be one he'd satisfy tonight though, there wasn't
the time and Ryoma wanted to savour that experience.

Once again, there were booted feet pacing back and forth less than half a metre from them. Even while he was the one giving instead
of receiving pleasure, Ryoma found that whole idea rather exciting.

Pulling back so Atobe's hair was no longer tickling his nose, Ryoma sucked
until his cheeks hollowed. He braced himself against the wall with one hand as
he encouraged Atobe to start fucking his mouth through a firm grip on his hip
with the other. It didn't take much before Atobe began to move at a steady pace
by himself, knowing Ryoma's limits intimately. It left Ryoma free to
concentrate on breathing, sucking and a little teasing as Atobe slid in and out
slickly.

The idea that anyone in the restroom with them might hear the wet sounds they
were making just amused him by that point because, though he suspected they
weren't really any louder than Atobe's muted panting, both sounds resounded in
Ryoma's ears.

Ryoma hummed softly, silently between powerful sucks, watching Atobe's face
contort with the effort to stay quiet. He had his teeth clenched and his hair
was sweat-damp along his hairline. It filled Ryoma with a sense of victory
before the moment had even really arrived. And a sense of victory when there
was saliva coating his chin felt like a real moment of achievement.

It was obvious when Atobe was on the edge, his thrusts became all the more
jerky and his thighs trembled beneath Ryoma's touch. Atobe hadn't given up eye
contact though, staring intently at Ryoma as he got closer and closer before
eventually spilling hotly into Ryoma's mouth and throat.

Ryoma drank him down eagerly, revelling in every
pulse Atobe gave him because each and every one was a miniature triumph. Only
when he was certain Atobe was done did he rise to engage his boyfriend in a
tangy kiss.

"Not bad," Atobe breathed, as always more composed in the wake of his
orgasm than Ryoma could ever hope to be.

Ryoma rolled his eyes and let himself out, leaving Atobe to pull up his pants
and rectify his appearance as he headed for the bar.

~*^*~

It was only as Ryoma
approached Tezuka at the bar that he realised he
didn't have a clue how to initiate a conversation with someone who knew he'd
just sucked his boyfriend off. At least last time he'd arrived after Atobe and
there had already been some manner of relaxed atmosphere established that he'd
been able to slot into � granted it had involved Atobe attempting to humiliate
him, but it had been an icebreaker of sorts. Maybe he should try, 'Do I have
come in my hair this time?' On second thoughts, maybe not�

Before he'd had chance to decide to bottle out and walk off, Tezuka glanced up
and met his gaze leaving no option to escape. It would just be stupid to let
Tezuka know he'd felt so ashamed he had to run off, so he gathered his
composure and slid onto the barstool beside his old captain.

"Are you enjoying the performance?" Ryoma asked after a moment of
fiddling with one of the beer mats. He even chanced a glance at his stoic companion
from the corner of his eye.

"Which one?" Tezuka answered the question
with a question, his expression unreadable as he elaborated, "The opera or
you and Atobe?"

"Captain!" Ryoma cried, aghast as his cheeks
filled with heat.

A tiny smirk made an appearance on Tezuka's lips as he failed to keep a
straight face. He didn't go quite so far as chuckling though, instead reaching
over and grabbing a can of ponta he'd evidently
already purchased for Ryoma, setting it before the younger boy. "Here you
go," he stated softly, giving Ryoma an out.

Ryoma appreciated it, grabbing the can with a mumbled
thanks as he tugged the ring pull to open it. It was only after he'd taken the
first sip, letting the fizzy bubbles wash down his throat,
that he reflected perhaps carbonated drinks directly after a blowjob
weren't the best option and ended up coughing.

Tezuka passed him a napkin and called for some water. "I'm actually
enjoying it a lot," he stated in reply to Ryoma's original question as the
requested glass was placed before Ryoma. "It's very instructive to see it
live."

Ryoma had just recovered from his coughing, but hearing Tezuka speak so
matter-of-factly about what was obviously Madama
Butterfly after he'd suggested what he had only moments earlier� He couldn't
suppress his laughter, trying to muffle it in the serviette as his cheeks
turned an unflattering shade of red.

Tezuka regarded him silently for a long moment, during which small spots of colour bloomed on his cheeks. "Not that,"
he reproved Ryoma, taking a sip from his water.

Ryoma could only continue to giggle and shake his head, tears of mirth sliding
down his cheeks so he had to blot at them with the napkin.

"I leave you alone for five minutes and you make him cry," Atobe
drawled. "Who knew you were such a bully, Tezuka?"

Ryoma glanced over at where Atobe was propping himself against the bar, and
only ended up laughing harder. Tezuka still had the spots of pink on his cheeks
and was studiously avoiding looking at Atobe as he nudged the cocktail he'd
ordered him closer.

"So what happened?" Atobe enquired after thanking Tezuka and taking a
sip but still not getting any measure of explanation from either of them
regarding Ryoma' hysterics.

Ryoma just shook his head wordlessly � he was laughing too hard to speak.

"A slight misunderstanding," Tezuka said primly, taking another drink
from his glass.

Ryoma bit his lip, drawing in deep breaths as he tried to get his giggles under
control. It hadn't been that funny, or at least, if it had, Tezuka
didn't deserve to have the piss taken out of him quite so much for it as this.
Not when he'd been putting up with Atobe and Ryoma being entirely inappropriate
all evening.

"Tezuka was just�" Ryoma's words caught on a hiccup and a giggle.
"Just saying he was enjoying the performance."

Atobe eyed him sceptically, but they both knew that
Ryoma would explain the situation later so he let it slide. "I'm
glad."

"I can see why the debates came about as they did though. Even the ones
who know better than Butterfly on the Japanese side aren't presented very
well," Tezuka said, evidently eager to engage in the changed topic of
conversation before the tone dipped again.

"Oh?" Ryoma asked, holding his napkin over his mouth to muffle his
hiccups between sips of water. He didn't want to openly admit to Tezuka that
he'd really not registered much of the second act.

"Yes, they're either militarily violent or incapable of rectifying the
situation," Atobe stated, obviously not the least bit impressed with the
characters. Ryoma did have to wonder how Atobe had possibly managed to pay
proper attention to the show though. Then again, his smirk was shouting loudly
'you should have read the brochure, Ryoma'. Ryoma chose to ignore the smirk and
drink from his water again.

"I think there's a little more room for nuance than that," Tezuka
responded, glancing at Atobe.

"How long do we have this time?" Ryoma cut in, glancing at the clock
above the bar. People had already begun returning to their seats though he
hadn't heard the bell. He'd not stopped to take account of when the break had
begun in his haste earlier either.

"Not long, if you'll excuse me," Tezuka said after a brief glance at
the clock. "I'll see you back there."

Atobe and Ryoma were silent for a moment before Atobe stated dryly, "At
least he knows better than to go at the beginning of the interval."

Ryoma swatted at him in response, his grin concealing barely suppressed
laughter.

~*^*~

In the end they'd
all been settled back in their seats ready for act three with a good minute to
spare. It left them in silence with Ryoma in the middle and not inclined to
talk, but it wasn't an awkward quiet.

Ryoma was feeling oddly relaxed, as if he hadn't quite allowed himself to bask
in the afterglow of his orgasm until he'd gotten his revenge in triggering
Atobe's in return. It was a little silly perhaps, but it was as though he was
only now ready to sit and watch the show like a good boy.

Of course, it wasn't to be.

Barely halfway through the performance and Atobe had his hand on Ryoma's leg.
It was all Ryoma could do to look from it to its owner in disbelief, mouthing,
"Again?"

Atobe gave him what was quite possibly the most devilish smile he'd ever seen
in his life and stroked firmly along Ryoma's inner thigh. It was a smile that
did strange things to his insides and made him quivery with excitement.

Atobe's smile had turned him into a woman. Fuck.

Slowly, but with none of the teasing of last time, Atobe began to pet Ryoma's
cock through his suit pants again. With almost two hours having slid by since
that first interval Ryoma had little doubt he'd end up quite receptive to the
intentions, and his sex was, in fact, already proving to be so. There wasn't
really any believable possibility that Atobe hadn't been planning for this moment
all along.

A brief glance at his watch confirmed to him that there would be no way in hell
this final act could finish by the time he needed it to finish if Atobe was
serious. So he did the only thing any sane person who valued the retention of
said sanity could do, he wrapped his fingers around Atobe's wrist and returned
the troublesome hand to its owner's lap.

Or rather, he tried and failed to do that. However much better he might have
been than Atobe at tennis, his boyfriend would likely always have the advantage
when it came to strength and Ryoma couldn't budge him. The only thing that was
happening was that Ryoma's cock was firming up under Atobe's ministrations.

Ryoma swallowed roughly, bordering upon a gulp, and glanced at Tezuka, only to
find that his captain was watching Ryoma's lap instead of the opera. It was
strange how that had the contrary consequence of making Ryoma harden more
quickly instead of entirely subside the way it was supposed to.

Ryoma drew in a slow, deep breath as Atobe slid the button on his trousers free
of its hole. Perhaps he'd made a sound, or perhaps Tezuka merely chose that
moment to feel self-conscious over his voyeurism, but in either case Tezuka
looked up. When their eyes met, it sent a shiver down Ryoma's spine and, as
they sat transfixed, he could almost ignore the soft sound of his zipper being
undone. He told himself not to blush, because Tezuka wasn�t. Instead he turned
the hand resting on the arm of the chair between them over, looking to it
pointedly after a second. Tezuka took the hint, clasping Ryoma's hand in his
own as his gaze slid south once more.

Ryoma leant back in his seat, closing his eyes briefly as Atobe coaxed his cock
out from the slit in his boxers, sure fingers running up and down the length.
Ryoma tugged his lower lip beneath his teeth as Atobe paid special attention to
the head with his thumb. It made Ryoma's breathing shaky, particularly when
combined with a tightening of Tezuka's hand around his own.

Every time he glanced to Tezuka he was faced with the fact that those
beautiful, intense brown eyes were focused on his naked cock, magnified by
their frameless spectacles. He was glad he was sitting down because he was sure
his knees would have given way had he been required to support himself.

Letting his gaze wander, looking for something � anything � to fix upon while
he tried to fight against Atobe's teasing, he realised
for the first time that night that they were in full view of the entirety of
the theatre's upper circle. Right as Atobe bent over his lap and took Ryoma's
cock in his mouth for the second time that night, right as Ryoma's own mouth
fell open in a silent gasp. "Keigo," he hissed, urgently trying to
tell his boyfriend.

Atobe didn't respond to the hint to stop though, letting Ryoma's cock slide
into his mouth agonisingly slowly. Nor did he respond
to Ryoma�s tugging at his painstakingly styled hair in any way other than to
grab Ryoma's hand and pull it away.

Ryoma was reduced to trying to lean down over him. "Keigo," he
tried again, his voice husky with want as the damp heat of Atobe's mouth
entirely encased him. "The upper circle!"

Atobe slowly pulled off of Ryoma's sex with a sucking pop, leaving him standing
proud and exposed to air that suddenly seemed far too chill. "So?"
Atobe enquired.

"So?!" Ryoma echoed barely
remembering to keep his voice down. It took him a long moment to fully
appreciate that Atobe had planned it to turn out as it was, with such a vast
audience. "Bastard!"

"Yes," Atobe responded unhelpfully, swirling his tongue about the tip
of Ryoma's cock maddeningly. "Be quiet," he added as he took just the
head between his lips to tease Ryoma's slit.

Ryoma huffed indignantly, though its transformation into a moan rather negated
any affect he'd desired it have, and sat back upright. Unsurprisingly, his
annoyance had not the least impact on his arousal. It was only when his eyes
landed on Tezuka's faintly pained expression that he realised
he was holding his captain's hand too tightly and loosened his grasp as he
leant over to apologise in Tezuka's ear.

"It's ok," Tezuka responded, his words breathy in a way Ryoma had
never heard from him before that moment.

As Atobe's talented mouth went to work driving him crazy, Ryoma came to
seriously doubt he'd make it out of the theatre alive. Atobe wasn't pulling any
of his punches as his tongue danced along all the most sensitive points on
Ryoma's cock. It left the younger man with his breathing was coming in ragged
gasps: tiny whines beginning to bleed through his attempts to stay quiet.

Tezuka's gaze was shifting between Ryoma's face and Ryoma's lap in a most
unhelpfully arousing way � he looked like he wanted to devour Ryoma. Merely
from being on the receiving end of that look from Tezuka Kunimitsu, Ryoma felt
himself being brought closer and closer to the edge. The thought made him feel
the tiniest bit guilty and he turned his attention to Atobe's bowed head.

"K-Keigo," he stuttered, on the verge of his orgasm. He was
entirely forgetting to be quiet so it turned out to be to his advantage that
Tezuka leaned over and took his mouth in a deep kiss at just that moment.

It was different from kissing Atobe; less sure and more
sloppy, whilst somehow managing to be commanding all the same. The kiss
successfully muffled Ryoma's moans as he reached up to thread his fingers
through Tezuka's hair and hold him in place. It was a desperate and needy kiss,
their tongues tangling in hungry passion.

As Ryoma found himself tipped over the brink, spilling helplessly into Atobe's
mouth as pleasure flowed through his body in waves, his cry was only barely
muffled by Tezuka's mouth. His grip on his captain's hand and hair had to be
painful but Tezuka bore the brunt of it easily, only slowly extricating himself
when Ryoma's trembling, hold and the violence of his kisses all began to
subside.

Ryoma had to bite his lip not to giggle at the sight Tezuka made, his glasses
all steamed up and his lips puffy and red from their impromptu make-out
session. He simply lazed in his seat, quaking silently as Atobe tidied him up
and tucked him away again in time for the final applause for the opera.

Tezuka was slowly beginning to look pale and shocked by his behaviour
as the ovation continued though, rising from his seat and fleeing the box
before either Atobe or Ryoma could say anything to prevent it.

Ryoma blinked dazedly, only then realising that
perhaps he ought to be more concerned than he was about what Atobe would think
of the situation. Just as he was about to turn and ask though, Atobe dropped a
kiss on his lips. "It's ok," Atobe told him
with a smug little smile. "I'll talk to Tezuka."

And as abruptly as that, not even down from his high, Ryoma was alone. It took
him long moments to haul himself out of his seat, long moments after the other
patrons of the theatre were all well on their way out. He distractedly checked
around for anything Atobe or Tezuka might have left, and slowly made his way
out to find the exit. Ryoma knew better than to attempt any speed while his
legs continued to threaten to defy him � he felt like jelly, but in the best
possible way.

What he didn't expect was to see the slut who'd interrupted Atobe kissing him
earlier waiting outside the box. He really just wanted to reach the limousine
and curl up against Atobe while he slept all the way back to the mansion, and
if he was lucky he might convince Atobe to carry him to bed rather than having
to walk. The slut didn't look pleased to see Ryoma either though, so he paused
with the hope it wouldn't take long, bracing himself against the wall with one
hand. "What?"

"Master Echizen," she said to him, angry and embarrassed but
thoroughly prim and proper in tone. "I believe we should discuss the
appropriate protocol at this theatre."

~The
End~
- 1
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Madama Butterfly