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Taking the Reins	By : benten Category: +. to F > Eyeshield 21 Views: 2000 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Eyeshield 21 is property to Riichirō Inagaki, Yūsuke Murata and Shueisha. No financial profit is being made by this online only distribution.

Chapter List
- 1-Taking the Reins
- 1
Once again the sports field of Deimon High was lively due to
football training. With vigor the team built up stamina, measured their
strength, threw and caught passes. For some reason coach Doburoku had gone
missing - he may have gotten himself lost again - but he wasn't really needed
that day anyway.

A bit further away from where the rest of the team was practicing,
the Devil Bats' only kicker stood in gear.

"Sorry for troubling you, Anezaki," Musashi said,
glancing at the girl kneeling by his feet.

"Not at all. I don't mind helping you, you know," Mamori
smiled, gazing at him from beneath her bangs. She firmly held a football in
place, ready to be kicked. Musashi returned her smile.

"Don't worry, though my aim's been rather off today, I won't
hurt your pretty hand."

"I know, Gen." The trust in her voice was strengthened
by addressing him by his given name, something they both only did in intimate
situations, or whenever nobody else was within earshot. Nobody else, with the
sole exception of Hiruma Youchi, with whom they shared a secret too complex for
the world to know about.

"Alright then." Musashi took his eyes off his lover and
took a few steps back. A deep breath for focus, a lighting quick jerk from his
leg. Mamori felt the ball tear away from under her fingers and watched how it
speed high into the air, towards the imposing goal. Musashi grimaced when it
hit against one of the posts and fell back, failing to go through. "Well,
shit. Let's try this again..."

He shook out his leg to relax the muscles; Mamori noticed Hiruma
was watching them from across the field with a frown. When Musashi indicated
that she set up another ball, she frowned as well. "You can take a rest,
you know."

"Nah, no need. I gotta make up for lost time," he said,
not looking at her.

Suddenly a cell phone rang from the sidelines. With a muttered
excuse, Musashi went to his bag and answered. From what she could hear, Mamori
could tell it was one of the construction workers of his father's business on
the line.

" .... All covered up and old Masa's gone? .... I see, I
see.... .... Well, don't do anything there till one of the blue guys or I've
checked it out, alright? You can continue on the foundation on the south...
yeah, that's the one.... yeah alright, later."

Dropping the cell back into his bag, he returned to Mamori's side.
"Is there anything wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"Hmm... just some spilled rubble over a hole we had to fill
with something else. Nothing big, but still they call me for advice since we're
currently short on experienced folk."

"That's incredible... you're the youngest, aren't you."

"One of 'em, yeah, but I've been in the trade for
years," he said as he stretched his arms and sighed loudly. "And here
I wanted to dedicate myself to football only, heh. Well, it's just for this
week..." Musashi allowed himself to get talked into temporarily filling in
a supervisor's position, so he worked in the mornings and practiced football in
the afternoon. Not like he had much else to do, other than spend time with
either one of his bed partners, mostly on weekends.

Mamori mustered him thoughtfully, trying to think of something to
say. "You've got a lot of responsibility on your shoulders..."

"Mm. Well... let's have another shot," he said, changing
the subject.

His face serious, Musashi concentrated on the goal. His standing
foot slipped a little during the moment and though the kick was powerful, this
time the ball didn't even graze the goal post as it sailed astray, missing the
mark completely.

Before anyone else could react, an irritated voice cracked across
the field.

"The hell is up with you, fucking old man?! Your kicks've
been out of line all day, is your old age catching up to your legs or
what?!!" Suddenly up close, Hiruma Youchi landed a firm kick on his
teammate's behind, which barely just shook the taller man. Behind the team's
captain, Sena and Monta inched closer, watching warily.

"Hiruma-kun!" Mamori said reproachingly, getting up
quickly and brushing off the dirt from her knees. "Give him a break. You
know he's been working all morning, having to fill in on the construction
si--"

"Yeah, so did he yesterday and the day before yesterday, yet
the success rate of his kicks then have still been at 90%, whereas today it's a
shitty 30%. What the fuck's up with that?"

Musashi smirked lightly at his words. "Nice of you to be
keeping such a close eye on my practice. Well... I've just been having things
on my mind," he sighed and awkwardly scratched his neck. "Sorry 'bout
that."

Hiruma stared hard at Musashi, then noticed that Mamori was
glancing worriedly back and forth at them. He seemed thoughtful for a moment,
then his face suddenly lit up with glee. Both Musashi and Mamori took slight
alarm at the expression � they knew too well that their captain had just gotten
another, most probably wicked, great idea.

His teeth bared in a dangerous grin, Hiruma's eyes narrowed as he
spoke. "On this field, the only thing you need on your mind is to fucking
get the kind of results we'll need to win a match. You'll have to be punished
later." The last part was just loud enough for only the kicker and the
manager to hear.

"Sca-ree," Musashi said. Watching his captain turn back
to the other players with a cackle, he then turned to Mamori. "Always so
excitable, that Yoichi."

"I really wonder... what he has in store this time..."

"Heh. Beats me, but I'm almost looking forward to it."
He smiled warmly at Mamori and held her gaze, as if to assure her that whatever
their lover was planning it couldn't be entirely nasty. The young woman
returned the smile, though a little uncertainly.

"Gen..." She was just about to ask him again about what
might be bothering him, when once again a familiar voice rudely blitzed over.

"YOU AREN'T ON COFFEE BREAK, FUCKING SLACKERS. GET A MOVE ON,
CHOP, CHOP!"

The next day Musashi's knuckles rapped against the hotel suite's
door. He could've used the bell, but somehow he never bothered to; his knocks
could announce his particular presence better. The door opened shortly to
reveal Hiruma grinning impishly, clearly expecting him. "Fucking old man!
How good to see you!"

Musashi smirked and entered the room. When the door fell into the
lock behind him, he started, "Hey, you were the one who called me
here," but Hiruma cut him off by capturing his mouth with his own. Heat
rose in Musashi at the sudden contact and he shut his eyes to lean into the
passionate greeting. He really liked it when his lover was being forward... he
felt Hiruma's long fingers crawl under his shirt, slowly popping open the
buttons, grazing his skin with his nails, and they moaned lightly in between
their kisses. When Musashi's hands found themselves on Hiruma's pants, the
lankier man suddenly pushed him away and stepped back.

Panting, Musashi looked at him questioningly. Hiruma merely
smirked, though he too was regaining his breath. "One thing at the time.
Come on in, first."

Musashi shrugged, then spied a pair of smaller shoes when he moved
to remove his. "Ah, Mamori's here already, too."

"Yeah, she's in the bath, making herself beautiful,"
Hiruma grinned. Running water could be faintly heard through the flat.

"Not that she has to do much," Musashi said under his
breath, but Hiruma heard him. "Keke, I know, right?"

The young men entered the spacious bed- and living room. As usual
Hiruma's weaponry and other paraphernalia lay about, but there was more than
enough room to safely and freely move around. The guest sat himself down on the
vacant king sized bed as Hiruma casually announced Musashi's presence to Mamori
though the bathroom door. Then he rummaged in the mini bar.

"Hope you got some rest, old man," Hiruma said, throwing
him a beer. Musashi caught it easily.

"Hmm? Sure..." He cracked the can open, but before he
could take a sip, he noticed Hiruma was staring at him critically. "...
What?"

"You best be heading home if you're as sapless as
yesterday."

"Hey, about that... look I was just distracted by things like
work. My bad, I know. I'll be done with it all next Tuesday, so, don't worry
about it... you know I wouldn't want to miss today with you, right?"

Hiruma stared at him for another moment, before letting his
demonic features form a grin. He stood and strode over to Musashi to sling his
arm around him and sit in his lap. "I shall hope so," he breathed,
then nimby took the beer can out of Musashi's hand and swiftly downed the half
of it's contents.

"Thanks for the drink," Musashi said wryly, then
finished off the rest, crushing the can after the last drop. "Hmm...
didn't you say you were gonna punish me for being a bad kicker...?" he
said quietly against Hiruma's lips, which unsurprisingly formed into a teethy
smile.

"Kekeke, you didn't hear right, my fucking dear," Hiruma
said, his eyes glinting. "I never said that I'll be the one punishing
you."

There was a sudden click; Hiruma had locked a pair of handcuffs
around Musashi's wrists. Then he swung himself off his lap and headed to the
bathroom door to kick against it sharply � his own way of knocking � and looked
about to call something out when it suddenly swung open.

Musashi's eyes widened. Tight fitting, black boots stepped into
the room, stiletto heels making a sound click for his attention. The laced
leather reached high against the long legs, exposing creamy thighs between the
revealing mini that hugged the slender, feminine frame, the corset curving
around the ripe, supple breasts at the top. Turquoise lace that matched the
woman's eyes softened the hard look of the small, black outfit. Musashi's mouth
went dry when he saw gloved hands gripping a riding crop.

"Wh-wha..."

Mamori lifted her gaze; she looked determined, though her cheeks
were visibly burning. Unused to the high heels she shifted slightly on her
feet, causing her hips to sway sensually. Every move held Musashi captive.

"Ehh?! I... I couldn't...... Forget it! I couldn't dress
or even act that way, Yoichi!"

"Kekeke, of course you can, girl. Remember this...?"
Hiruma pulled out a photograph and held it between his fingers for Mamori to
see. Depicted was herself during their second year school sports festival, when
she let herself get talked into dressing and acting like a crazed gangster
bride, in order to deceive their other teammates for training purposes.

"That's..."

"Your acting needs a whole lot of polishing, but it'll
do," Hiruma smiled and tucked the picture away.

Mamori watched him, distracted. "Nice to know you keep
that �blackmail material' in your wallet instead of that book of yours..."

"But of course. I carry it right by my heart," he
said, grinning widely as he patted his breast pocket. "Nothing less for my
fucking sweet."

His words might not have been said seriously, but Mamori's
cheeks flushed all the same.

"Anyway, you can start trying those on. I know he has a
leather fetish, he likes touching footballs even though he doesn't need
to--"

"W-wait! I didn't agree to doing this yet..."

"Oh come on," Hiruma said, wrapping his arms around
Mamori, his slender fingers running through her hair. "You said yourself
that Gen is shouldering way too much responsibility for his age, and I agree,
fucking old baby'd much rather sleep all day in the shade." He gave her a
light kiss on the forehead before carrying on. "He isn't all that
comfortable being in charge. And you know, he's been awfully a lot in charge
these days when we fuck. I'm not complaining, but last time I thought it was
like he felt obligated to, just a little bit, don't you think?"

Mamori's brows furrowed, thinking back. Hiruma continued.
"So, that's why it's a great idea to completely strip him of the reins for
once!"

"Your ability to draw such conclusions to sex is
frankly... quite amazing," Mamori said, not hiding her sarcasm.

Hiruma flashed her his teethy grin. "What, you don't
agree? You know our old boy needs to get his mind off things, it should be our
job to give him some distraction, the flashier the better. Trust me, I
guarantee that you'll be doing him a favor...." He leaned in to kiss her
lips, and Mamori shut her eyes, holding back slightly, but finding herself
getting more agreeable the longer the contact held. Mamori then gazed down thoughtfully
as Hiruma lightly nipped his pointed teeth at her neck.

"... why don't you do it, aren't you the most... sadistic
one of us?"

"Heh. Wouldn't want to overdo it. Maybe some other time.
Besides," he murmured, running his tongue briefly over her skin before
continuing in a whisper. "I think that you just might enjoy it too. No
harm in trying..."

Mamori sighed under Hiruma's ministrations and gazed musingly
at the ceiling. If it's for Gen...

Musashi managed a smirk, though his eyes were still trained on the
leather clad girl standing before him. "You're the worst, Yoichi. Corrupting
young girls like this..."

"Whatever, I know you're into this kinda stuff, you
kinky bastard," Hiruma cackled. "I saw that magazine at your place,
the 'Dominatrix and Lolita Bible'. You could've told us about it instead of
letting me find out."

"Don't tell me you've set this up just to do me a favor.
Mamori's legs sure are strung up nicely like that," Musashi said
appreciatively, running his gaze over her boots and thighs. "I know you
have a leg fetish, Yoichi. Else you wouldn't have fallen so hard for
mine," he grinned.

"Shut the hell up, fucking old man," Hiruma said,
laughter in his voice, but he quieted down as soon as a loud snap sounded in
the room. Mamori had whacked the riding crop against the table for their
attention.

"You sure are cocky for someone about to get
humiliated," Mamori said as sternly as she could muster. She agreed to
play the role, so she was going to give it her best; she stayed up all night
memorizing 'Domina 101' so at least she had a basic idea of how to get started.
Now to find the right kind of pressure, not too hard, but hard enough...

"Hiruma!" she called out suddenly. "You said I'm in
command. Bother me, and I'll punish you too. And don't you dare take
pictures!"

Hiruma's hand twitched back from the camera he was reaching for.
"Heh, you got me. Alright, mistress. I'll be good, I'll just watch from
here," he said silkily and slunk down to a crouch. Mamori glared at him
for a moment, then turned back to the handcuffed man sitting on the bed.

Their gazes locked. She reached out to touch his chin, lifting his
head to study him. Her slim, gloved fingers traced gently over his face, the
scent and feel of the leather enticing him. Musashi shut his eyes and moved to
nibble at her fingers, but then she gave him a sudden light smack.

"This won't do..." Mamori started, gripping the chain
between the cushioned cuffs and tugging at it. "Get up!"

Taken, Musashi obeyed without a word, let himself be dragged to a
vacant chair against a wall. She shoved him into it, lifted his arms by the
chain, demanding he should rise, then finally secured the chain on a hook in
the wall. The result found Musashi in a vulnerable, half leaning, half hanging
position, his arms strung up above his head.

Mamori briefly considered kicking away the chair under him too,
but she had already done more than she had trusted herself capable of. Her
heart was hammering in her chest as she looked at what she had started, her resolve
wavering. Further back, she could hear Hiruma blow a low whistle.

Undoubtedly Musashi would have been able to unhook himself with
some effort, but he made no move to do so. Instead, he attentively stared at
Mamori, his expression grim but not without a touch of dark lust in his eyes.
He was breathing heavily, his exposed chest heaving. Mamori watched how his
muscles moved, entranced by the constricted, masculine sight before her.

She reached out again, her hand shaking a tiny bit before it
reached his skin and caressed his flesh. "Beautiful..." she
whispered.

The book she read had advised her that she should not under any
circumstances praise her mate, but Mamori decided then and there that she
wouldn't completely deny her own self in this experience.
- 1
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Taking the Reins