Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Thrill Me	By : kirameki Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > General Views: 2578 -:- 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-Thrill Me
- 1
Thrill
Me

Fandom:
Prince of Tennis

Pairing:
FujiRyo, hints of an AtoRyo
attraction(not fulfilled)

Rating:
PG13-very mild R (because of public make-out session and heavy petting)

Disclaimer:
PoT doesn't belong to me.

Summary:� Ryoma
wants to be free of his parents meddling.�
He didn�t expect accepting Fuji�s help would gain him a thrilling moment
of mutual desire as well.�

Notes: Inspired by the song Sway, by the Pussycat Dolls.� For some reason it reminds me of Fuji.� Strange, I know.� But for the curious, it�s a wonderful song.
;D� This is a tenipuri
AU, which seems to be rare, at least when it comes to FujiRyo,
so I felt the need to make one. xD� It�s kind of off the
wall, so bear with it, if you will.� I
can promise Ryoma in dress clothes, Fuji�s exhibitionist tendencies, and a
slightly drunk but melting Ryoma.� So
hopefully that will be enough to get you through.� Enjoy. =D

Some
quick info about the universe:

Instead
of Tennis clubs they belong to ritzy elite country clubs(which
of course have Tennis Leagues �it�s not THAT AU.� I can�t imagine Ryoma without Tennis.� xD).�� Everyone is older.� I�m thinking Ryoma is probably 19 or
20-ish.� Fuji(of
course) is 2 years older.� Oh and when I
thought up Fuji I was thinking something similar to what he wore in the Dream
Live musical when they were in their �casual� clothes.� xD
That outfit was awesome.

Now onto the thrill.�
;)

xxxx

Other dancers
may be on the floor

Dear, but my eyes will see only you

Only you have that magic technique

When we sway I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violins

Long before it begins

Make me thrill as only you know how

Sway me smooth, sway me now

Sway me, take me

Thrill me, hold me

Bend me, ease me

You have a way with me

�� -Sway, The
Pussycat Dolls

xxxx

Thrill Me

Echizen
Ryoma tugged awkwardly at the loathsome collar of his dress shirt.� He was hot, tired, and more than a little
annoyed.�

He
hated suits.� He hated people.� And he hated dancing.�

Yet,
here he was, in the overbearingly opulent dance hall at the Seigaku Country
Club.� His parents had been members for
longer than he could recall.� Normally he
could use excuses to duck out of these functions, but not this time.� Apparently his perverted father (who had
somehow managed to become sole shareholder to a huge corporation, despite the
fact Ryoma believed him to be an incompetent idiot) had been the main reason
for his presence this evening.

He
had been told he was at the age to begin looking for potential candidates for a
beneficial marriage.� Ryoma smirked into
his glass of expensive champagne.� If
only his father knew the truth.� Ryoma
had no interest in his father�s colleague�s daughters.� Though he had to admit some of their sons had
promise.

If
not for his overbearing arrogance he may have taken up the Atobe heir�s offer
at his father�s last business social.� Keigo had been after him for awhile now.

He
didn�t mind the other boy, and was in truth, somewhat affected by his
attractive good looks.� However his
personality was in desperate need of work.�
He knew Atobe would most likely treat or view him as some sort of object
to conquest rather than a person.� It was
one of the boy�s biggest faults, and Ryoma�s main reason for rejecting his
advances.

There
was no way Ryoma would be reduced to a notch in the bedpost of a man like
Atobe.� Besides, it�s not like Keigo was lacking in available bed companions.� He rolled his eyes at the thought of the
�Atobe Keigo fanclub�.� Atobe�s ego didn�t
need to get any bigger.� So, he would let
him continue believing there was one person on the planet not affected by his
wealth or charisma.�

It
would take more than that to win over an Echizen.

Ryoma
found himself actually wishing for Atobe�s normally
unbearable presence.�� The man may be an
arrogant ass, but he always put on an interesting show.� A shame Keigo�s
father belonged to Hyotei instead of Seigaku.

Ryoma
was bored to death and nearly at his wits end.�
Turning the overly hopeful girls away was so annoying.� Why couldn�t they just leave him alone?� Echizen Ryoma didn�t dance, and no, he didn�t
much like girls either.

Decision
come to, he made a beeline for the men�s room.�
He had played the dutiful son long enough for one evening.� Maybe if he was a little more comfortable the
rest of the evening would be somewhat tolerable.� He wasn�t expecting a miracle, but at the
least he could get out of this heat generating suit coat.

He
didn�t notice the sharp blue eyes following his every movement, nor the figure
that detached itself from its place against the wall to trail him intently at a
leisurely pace.

Ryoma
tugged his tie as loose as he could reasonably pull it, sighing in relief as
his neck was freed from its confines.� He
glanced up when the door opened.� He
looked the man over curiously.� He felt
he should recognize the man, but in the faulty lighting he couldn�t make out
who it was.� Besides, he attended these
things so rarely it isn�t surprising he would forget a face.� The only good thing about Seigaku was the
Tennis League affiliated with it.

�Echizen.� The sandy haired man nodded in
greeting, surprising Ryoma.

The
younger man�s eyes widened, studying his companion closely.� Tailored, yet strangely elegant and flowing
white dress shirt.� Tight black dress
slacks.� Shiny shoes whose surface shined
so much it could reflect the ceiling�s light.�
The face was in shadows though, and Ryoma couldn�t make it out.�

The
lighting in the restroom was awful.�
Bright enough to see by (barely), but the bulbs were somehow dimmed to
create a manufactured lamplight setting.�
The lines of the face that he could make out were definitely familiar,
yet he couldn�t quite place it.� Assuming
the man was just one of many acquaintances he�d suffered through introductions
with, Ryoma returned the greeting by way of a simple nod. �

The
other man didn�t seem to mind his abrupt nature, and disappeared behind the
curtain blocking the view of the urinals.�
It was made of absurdly expensive fabrics.� Ryoma didn�t much get the point of the
curtains, seeing as they were all men anyway.�
What need did they have for modesty and hiding behind curtains?� He concluded it was most likely due to too
much money and not enough things to spend it on.

Leaving
the other man to his business, he shrugged out of his sweltering suit jacket,
leaving it on the ledge of the sink.� He
swiftly undid several of the buttons on his dress shirt, leaving a decent
portion of his pale chest visible.� He
didn�t bother to remove the loosened tie.�
He purposely un-tucked the shirt tails, before eyeing himself critically
in the mirror�s reflective surface.� His
parents would probably have a fit and say he was indecent.� He couldn�t bring himself to care.� At least he wasn�t as uncomfortable now.�

Turning
on the faucet of the gold engraved marble sink, he splashed his face with the
cool liquid.� He used the excessive water
to slick his hair, but was hindered by the cloying gel his father�s manservant
had carefully applied, making his hair stiff and disgusting feeling.� He hated it.�
His efforts didn�t seem to be affecting the stubborn gel, and in an act
of desperation he shoved his head beneath the streaming flow of the faucet,
hoping it would dislodge the disgusting gel from his hair.� He rubbed the black strands roughly,
determined to get them clean.� When it
felt like the worst of the gel was gone he turned the water off and stood
upright.� Ignoring the high tech blow
dryers installed on the far end of the wall, he shook his head from side to
side, in an effort to dispel the worse of the excess water.� When that failed to do much he resorted to
ringing the strands out over the sink.

He
had been so preoccupied that he hadn�t noticed the other man come out of the
curtained off area and begin to watch him curiously.� It wasn�t until the man approached the sink
beside his to wash his hands that he became aware of his presence.� He also distantly observed his actions had
caused water to fleck the man�s lightweight white shirt.� He didn�t bother apologizing.� It wasn�t his fault the other man had lousy
timing.� He forced his eyes away from the
small wet spots now accentuating the man�s lean yet defined chest and went back
to returning his hair to some semblance of order.�

He
ignored the fact that his own shirt had gotten soaked and clung to him somewhat
uncomfortably.� He vaguely registered the
other faucet turning off.

�I
didn�t expect to see you here, Echizen.�
You don�t often attend these things.�

Ryoma�s
head shot over to his companion, the soft features revealed now that he was
closer to the lamps light.� The man�s
identity suddenly clicked into place.� It
was a face he knew very well.�

�Fuji-sempai?�

Fuji
smiled mildly. �You missed a spot.�
Here,� he reached over and smoothed a few stray locks of black hair into
place.� Ryoma ignored the strange
tingling sensation where their skin touched.�
He couldn�t stop the light flush from dusting his cheeks, though.� �Why don�t I get you a drink?� You look like you could use it.�

Ryoma
nodded his assent, not trusting his voice to behave, and followed his new
companion to the mini bar where they were serving drinks.� He had left his jacket back in the bathroom,
but figured he could always just get a new one.

�Champagne, right?� Fuji smiled disarmingly, handing
the drink to his silent companion.

Ryoma
took the drink gratefully, not bothering to ask how Fuji had known what he had
been drinking all night.�

After
receiving his own glass, Fuji then steered him towards a small table set aside,
away from the dance floor.

�I
heard from Tezuka that you would be in the match on
Friday.�� Fuji spoke offhandedly after
they had been seated.

�But,
of course,� Ryoma replied automatically, taking a small sip of his drink.� Fuji�s smile widened.�

�I�m
playing too.�

�Hn.�

Fuji
was the only member of the Seigaku Tennis League that he had yet to defeat
aside from their captain, Tezuka.� He wondered why the tensai
was approaching him now.� They didn�t
talk much off of the courts.

�What
are you doing here?� Fuji surprised him by asking.

Ryoma
eyed him blankly before leaning forward on the table, idly swirling the
champagne left in his glass.� �My parents
want to sell me off to some business colleague�s daughter.� Ryuuzaki, I think
the name was.�� Ryoma glared at the
throng of well-dressed strangers as though they were to blame.� He knocked back the champagne in a few large
gulps, completely ignoring the rules of etiquette and common sense that said to
drink it slowly.� Just thinking of his scheming
parents had him seriously pissed off.

�Ah.� My parents gave up on me long ago.�� Fuji had waved a bar boy over to refill
Ryoma�s glass.� When he glanced back he
found Ryoma�s wide cat-like eyes staring at him hopefully.

�How
did you do it?�

�Get
them to back off, you mean?�

�Un.�

�I
brought home my boyfriend.�

Ryoma
sprayed the champagne he�d just begun to take a swig of, coughing at some that
had gone down the wrong pipe.� He felt a
brief touch of gentle fingers rubbing his back soothingly.� The tingling sensation had returned, though
dulled through the barrier of his thin shirt.

�Easy.� You shouldn�t drink it so fast,
Echizen.�� Ryoma�s skin flushed lightly
at the sight of his teammates smile.� It
was softer than usual.� Though, Ryoma
supposed it could just be the champagne talking.

Despite
his words, Fuji once again beckoned to the bar to refill Ryoma�s cup.

�I
could help you out, you know,� Fuji smiled at him widely.� Ryoma thought he saw a glimpse of white teeth
this time.

�You
could?�

�It
would be my pleasure.�

�But
how��

Fuji
placed a finger over his lips to silence him and smiled lightly.� �Yes or no?� I won�t offer again.�� Although he admitted to himself he probably
would, he figured Ryoma didn�t need to know that.

Ryoma
gulped.� The hand at his back had stopped
rubbing, but remained.� He could feel its
solid weight at his back and its heat seeping into his skin through his shirt.

Fuji
was so close Ryoma had to tilt his head to look him directly in the eyes.� His throat dried and his heart constricted at
the sight of those sharp eyes, staring at him with a hunger that had nothing to
do with the dinner scheduled for later that evening.

He
couldn�t think straight, overwhelmed by the other man�s intoxicating
presence.� The alcohol certainly wasn�t
helping either.� Should he, or shouldn�t
he?� He had no clue what Fuji was
thinking, and knew it was dangerous to agree to anything Fuji proposed without
knowing all the details.� It could be
bad.� Really bad.� But before he could dwell for long on the
repercussions, his mouth jumped ahead of his brain.

�Show
me.�

Fuji�s
smile was so big that it was nearly frightening to behold.� Before Ryoma could retract his statement he
found his hand in Fuji�s strong grip and his body being tugged gently toward
the dance floor.

Ryoma
shook his head, trying to unsuccessfully pull away.� There was no way Fuji was getting him on that
dance floor.�

Fuji
stopped, frowning at the resistance.� His
partner was shaking his head negatively.�
Well now, this simply wasn�t acceptable.�

Fuji
pulled Ryoma close against him so suddenly, Ryoma couldn�t stop the new trajectory.� Ryoma�s resistance was successfully halted
for the moment.� Tawny eyes blinked at
him, grown huge with shock and confusion.�
Fuji felt he could fall into their depths if given time.� They were quite endearing.� As was the slightly
struggling Echizen.

Fuji�s
hand drifted to Ryoma�s waist, his other one tangled in the still damp strands
of hair.

By
now they had attracted quite a bit of attention, but Fuji couldn�t care
less.� There was only one person there
tonight that interested him, and that person was currently in his arms staring
at him hazily with uncomprehending eyes.�
Hmm� perhaps he shouldn�t have let Ryoma drink so much?� He had expected more resistance.� Not that he minded overmuch.� A challenge was nice, but he didn�t much care
either way when he had those innocent golden eyes watching him, darkening to
chocolate in a slow rising lust.� The
sight was even better than he had anticipated.�
He could definitely get used to it.

Ryoma
had stopped struggling, but he had also stopped moving at all.� That simply wouldn�t do.

�Come,�
Fuji tugged Ryoma forward, his lips tantalizingly close to the boy�s skin.� He squelched the urge to make contact, and
moved to put them back on course.� He
thought he heard a soft whimper of complaint escape those delicious lips, the
sound fanning the already blazing inferno of his desire.

His
smile turned roguish as he continued forward, feeling no resistance this time.

Ryoma
wanted to die.� No, scratch that.� He wanted Fuji to die.� He wanted it to be long and painful.� He wanted to watch.

His
senses were off, he felt fuzzy and lightheaded, and he was sure it was all
Fuji�s fault somehow.

Damn
schemer.� Even Atobe had never dared
anything like this.� Ryoma should hate
it.� No, he did hate it.� But it was
getting difficult to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest and the
fluttering in his stomach.

What
the hell did they put in that champagne?�
Maybe if he got sick Fuji would stop making him feel so deliciously out
of control.� Deliciously?� No, he had not just thought that.� He liked being in control.� He hated being subject to the whims of
others.� He couldn�t possibly find this
relinquishing of control enjoyable.�

He
looked up and saw Fuji staring at him again, blue eyes smoldering with a barely
contained fire.� Ryoma swore he could
feel the heat rolling from that intense gaze.�
And, just like that, he felt all of his resistance, all of his defenses,
melted away by that blazing inferno.

Fuji
once again pulled him close, molding Ryoma�s smaller frame to his own.� Ryoma thought he might faint, eyes briefly
blurring.� But strong arms held him up
and he felt his own sneaking treacherously around Fuji�s body, hands bunching
in the other man�s shirt.

�I
hate you,� Ryoma declared, failing miserably to conjure up one of his trademark
glares.

Fuji
just smiled knowingly.

�I
mean it.� Fuji nodded agreeably, beginning to move and sway to the beat of the
Latin flavored music, pulling Ryoma along for the ride.� It was the single most erotic moment Ryoma
thought he�d ever been involved in.� They
were pressed so close together he could feel Fuji�s hips contact his own on
every few beats.�

Ryoma
felt a little dizzy, the sensations overloading.� He buried his head against Fuji�s shoulder
and let the older man continue to lead.�
He felt like he�d become a puppet, and Fuji had somehow gotten hold of
his strings.

�You�dead�tomorrow,�
he mumbled.� He didn�t see Fuji�s smile widen,
nor did he hear the breathy reply of �I
look forward to it.�

Ryoma
roused himself from the comfortable haze he�d fallen into when he heard the
music die down and Fuji had stopped the delicious motions about the dance
floor.

He
blinked in confusion, wondering why they had stopped.� Not that he was disappointed or anything�

Before
he could ask, he felt a hot mouth against his own and a foreign tongue seeking
entrance.� He closed his eyes, gave
entrance, and found himself dragged into a dance of an entirely different
nature.

This
dance was familiar, and yet refreshingly new.�
He had experimented a few times, but they hadn�t gone anywhere and were
obviously nowhere near as skilled as his current companion.� He was lost to the overwhelming sensations,
returning the kiss with a desperate fervor he had never felt before.

Ryoma
found his hands moving into Fuji�s soft hair, pulling the other man even
closer, deepening the kiss as much as he could.�
Only Fuji existed.� The other
guests, his parents, Atobe, everyone else were forgotten in that instant.�

He
whimpered longingly when Fuji broke the kiss abruptly.� Both men were flushed, panting, and had eyes
darkened nearly to black with growing desire.

Fuji
found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything but Ryoma,
however he knew that this wasn�t the time or place to act on his desires.� At least he no longer needed to worry about
anyone else sweeping in to make a move on his favorite teammate.� No one here would dare risk the wrath of his
family by going against him.� Ryoma would
be his, and he�d made that clear tonight.�
Not even the Hyotei captain could infringe on
his claim now.

He
smiled down at the still panting and dazed young man in his arms.� He wouldn�t take it all the way tonight, it
was too soon for that, but he wasn�t averse to playing a bit more
privately.� He guided the suddenly malleable
Ryoma towards the exit.

He
briefly caught a glimpse of Nanjiroh Echizen glaring
at him murderously.� He just grinned, his
smile filling up his face and his sharp eyes daring the man to try and stop
him.� He continued to urge Ryoma on a
path away from his fuming parent.�

He
doubted Ryoma would have to worry about any matchmaking on that front any
longer.� His hand tightened about the one
in his own.� The only matches Ryoma would
be making from now on would be ones on the tennis court.� He�d make sure of it.

Once
in the relative privacy of the empty hallway Fuji felt the hand in his own
retreat.� He let it go, ready to grab it
again if Ryoma tried to make a getaway.�
His eyes widened at the sudden feel of hands forcing him against the
wall and the demanding mouth forcing his own back open.�

Once
the shock had faded, Fuji relaxed into the kiss, allowing his younger
companion�s forcefulness.� He found it
quite enjoyable actually.� Ryoma was
obviously a little inexperienced, but he was also a quick learner.�

Fuji
found himself losing some of his thus far tightly reigned control.� He had to move this elsewhere.� The hallway didn�t provide any privacy, and
if they were to go any further it should be somewhere they couldn�t easily be
found.

He
pulled Ryoma off of him, both boys groaning at the loss of contact.� Ryoma was desperately trying to continue, but
instead found himself being lead further away from the
dance hall doors.� He whined and tugged
Fuji�s hand questioningly.

He
found himself subject to another mind-melting kiss that ended much too soon for
his tastes.

Fuji
was panting lightly his mouth close to Ryoma�s ear causing the younger boy to
shiver deliciously.� �We should continue
this somewhere more private, Ryoma.��

It
was the first time he�d used his first name and Ryoma wondered why such a
seemingly small thing could turn him on so very much.�

This
time it was Ryoma pulling away, hand still clasped around Fuji�s tightly to
ensure the other man wouldn�t escape prematurely.� Heads would roll if this was all just some
twisted joke on Fuji�s part.

Fuji
let himself be guided as Ryoma deftly led them to the
front door and out into the cool autumn air.�
Ryoma shivered at the breeze, his shirt still a little damp.

Fuji
wondered where he was being taken and if perhaps he should be concerned.� He didn�t feel worried, though.� He felt hot and desperately aroused.� Even the chill night air couldn�t cool his
evident ardor.� He smirked at the fact
that Ryoma was in no better condition.

Ryoma
paused briefly, considering, before tugging Fuji in a direction both boys were
familiar with.� Fuji�s eyebrow lifted
curiously when they arrived at the Tennis League�s luxurious lounge and locker
room.� He could make out the green and
white-lined courts locked up for the night just behind the building.

He
looked at Ryoma questioningly, but Ryoma just smirked, making Fuji want to
molest those lips all over again.� Before
he could, Ryoma had rummaged a key from his pants pocket and quickly unlocked
the door.� Yanking a surprised Fuji into
the darkened room behind him, he shoved his older teammate roughly onto the
plush couch the team usually reserved for relaxing during breaks.�

Fuji
sank willingly into the cushions, allowing his companion this moment to explore
his body at his own pace.� There was,
after all, an entire evening for pursuing his own
desires.� But first he simply had to
ask.� He halted Ryoma�s caressing hands
and pulled away from the boy�s temptingly sinful mouth.

�How
did you get those keys?�

Fuji
felt his insides twist delightfully at the wicked smirk Ryoma bestowed upon
him.�

�Bribed
the old man in payment for coming tonight.�
Now shut up.�

And
Fuji did so without complaint, far too busy enjoying more carnal pursuits.

But
before Ryoma continued with his enjoyable ministrations, he narrowed his eyes
at the tensai that was watching him with baited
breath.

�I�m
still going to kill you for this tomorrow.�

Fuji
let out a breathless laugh that was quickly swallowed up by eager lips.

Tonight
would be fun, but Fuji couldn�t wait for tomorrow.

xxxx

The
End

xxxx

author�s rambles:� � I can�t get away from Fuji the
stalker.� I just can�t.� I always make him one.� I don�t know why, it�s just the vibes I get
from him.� xD�
Oh well.� I love Fuji�s
stalker-ish tendencies so I guess its okay.�

And,
Ryoma has no tact when it comes to sex.�
Ah well, he�s cute so I suppose Fuji can forgive him.

I�m
sure I�ve made plenty of mistakes in this, but I really wanted to post it and
have so much schoolwork looming above my head menacingly.� So, I apologize if a sentence or phrase along
the way came out weird.� I looked it over
and revised a little, but not as much as I usually do.�

Also,
I have not personally tested how many champagne glasses one needs to get tipsy,
so if my calculations are wrong, suspend your disbelief.� I was basing it off of my experience with
some strong wines.� So if it seems hard
to believe, we�ll just say Ryoma�s extremely bad at holding his liquor.� xD

Feedback
equals food for the soul

10/1/06
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Thrill Me