Attention, Please.

Title: Attention, Please
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters/Pairings: Mizuki, Sanada, OCs
Rating/Warnings: NC-17; cross-dressing, sexual situations, language
Word Count: 2,575
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply. No own, no sue.
Summary: On a wedding of his cousin, Mizuki is tucked into a dress, because drunk sisters are illogical.

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This was officially Mizuki's worst day ever. Worse even than having been caught going down on some upperclassman in the college toilets. Being abused by his drunk sisters to wear one of their bridesmaid dresses could only be worse. Especially when he was on the lookout for some eyecandy.

As if having to attend his cousin's western-style wedding was not bad enough. Mizuki would have preferred to be at leisure to let his gaze roam over the other guests while analyzing their behavior to see if there was something worth noting mentally. Because he could. And because he was bored out of his skull. Most of the subjects he was scrutinizing were members of the Sanada clan, since they were now an distant part of his own family and he knew nothing more than hearsay about them. In general, he did not want to converse with any of them, though should anyone decide to address him, he committed himself to have a topic down pat the person would be interested in.

Occasionally, he was engaged in a mindless small talk he could listen and reply to with half an ear, twirling a lock of hair absently, about things like the great match of the married couple, the oh-so-tasteful decorations, the food or the complaints of his conversational partner. Mizuki just wanted to get out of here, as soon as possible. Or fuck his brains out and then leave. But he had to be courteous and stay for at least a little while longer.

In the meantime, he checked out potential hook-ups for the night and found out that, to his horror, he had slept with almost all of them. Except for that cute guy at the bar, maybe, but unfortunately he was already taken and not interested in a quick, pleasure-for-all, no-strings-attached affair. Poor boy, didn't know what he was missing.

Now and then, Mizuki's eyes raked over the younger Sanada's rigid form, observing him in candid moments. When his ears were not abused by some well-meaning family member, he downed one sambuca after another and gave the impression of rather wanting to wrestle naked with a hungry lion than to remain on the wedding party of his brother.

(At the thought of a naked Sanada, Mizuki unconsciously licked his lips. Damn him, but he felt like a hungry lion right now.)

Mizuki could relate. He wanted to be freed from his own yawning misery among this unexciting company, which did not mean he would save Sanada, the only person his age, from his. (Unless Sanada came to him first.)

A nagging voice in the back of his head told him to go outside and catch some fresh air, but exhaustion and boredom (never the alcohol!) dulled his senses that it took a considerable amount of time to convince himself to follow his own advice. Which proved to be a fatal mistake, as his sisters sat down on either side of him to subject him to a drinking game that would supposedly remedy his gloomy mood.

In fact, it accomplished quite the opposite. Instead of cheering up, Mizuki's boredom slipped into restlessness. No wonder what with those conversational topics.

"The groom's younger brother - Genichirou, was it? - is such a handsome one, don't you think? I wonder if he's taken," one of his cousin's gushed, while checking her hair-do.

"To be honest, I do like the one next to him better," his eldest sister joined in, but was promptly ignored.

"Yes, and he's so well-mannered! Unlike some men I've had acquaintance with."

"I know! And have you seen those shoulders?"

"Is that all you c--" They wouldn't even let Mizuki finish.

"Hajime-kun. Do us a favor, will you?"

"Please, I'll never pester you again with relationship matters."

"I thought you were both such good friends!"

"Excuse me?"

Drawing their attention really hadn't been the wisest move. Like hell he would find out about his preferences in women and whether or not he was taken already. Mizuki couldn't even imagine Sanada with a girl! Nfu, joke of the century.

The need to use the toilets was a welcome change to make himself scarce and stretch his legs. Unfortunately though, the men's restroom was broken, which meant either using the women's restroom or relieving oneself into the bushes behind the house. Since using the lavatory was, in his eyes, the better and more hygienic of two evils, he went with that option.

Only to be surprised by his sisters and two cousins, when he was washing his hands.

To his bewilderment he noticed that Kanako, the bride's lanky younger sister, had already changed her clothes to a more comfortable but still elegant outfit, her bridesmaid dress loosely draped over one arm. His eldest sister's sneaky look and their slow steps in his direction immediately alarmed him to what was in the offing.

His sisters loved to dress him up.

They had already loved to put bows in his hair and make tacky dresses back when he was still sucking his thumb or pacifier. (He had heard stories about neighbors and acquaintances going all mushy-brained and asking in their sickeningly honeyed voices: "Aww, I didn't know you had another daughter. She's so adorable." As if his cuteness had anything to do with his gender.) Or when he was - unsupecting of the approaching evil - building sandcastles and his sisters snatched him to practice their make-up skills.

Which was basically what was happening now, only that words could not describe the horror that overcame Mizuki as he threatened to suffocate in a thick cloud of powder. The tickling brush strokes made him want to sneeze, the massacring of his scalp and pinching of his skin slap around him for them to leave him alone.

"Would you please lay this off already? You're going to ruin my skin," Mizuki puffed out when he was mostly sure he would not start coughing out his Adam's apple because of the powder particles. They already made his eyes swim.

If that wasn't enough, they had the audacity to giggle and ignore his pleas! "Oh, you needn't be afraid, Hajime-kun! This application here won't blemish your skin. On the contrary, this brand is rather nourishing." Stroking his cheeks, they prattled on. "God, your marvelous skin is making me so jealous!"

Harebrains. Just because he was beautiful did not mean they had the right to treat him like a girl and just because he was gay did not mean they could just tuck him into ill-fitting dresses. He "looked good in it" his ass! He lacked the curves to fill this hideous waste of cloth and where the straight lines of his body stretched the fabric a little too much, he was expectingd to burst the seams any second now.

The first look into the mirror after the change over was complete, on the other hand, stole his breath in a different manner. He touched his face to make sure what he saw was really himself. It was still his face, yet strangely changed and barely recognizable if you did not know who you were looking for. His eyes looked bigger, his cheekbones higher, his lips fuller; and the ringlets brushing his shoulders gave the whole of his face a very effeminate look. Even more so than usual.

Mizuki did not know whether to be appalled or amazed. He was probably a bit of both. Probably no one would recognize him in this getup. Before he could complete his trail of thought, he was already hustled out of the bathroom.

"Don't you think my former outfit would have suited the occasion better? Tickling out his secrets is not exactly easier in a dress," Mizuki said dryly.

"But Hajime-kun. Before, you said you two had been rivals during your school time and chances were lower than zero that he would talk to you intimately."

That still did not clarify why he had to dress up as a girl. These women certainly had never heard of this little word called logic. "This is not even gonna fool a blind."

Not that it mattered too much. Nobody would recognize him anyway, they assured Mizuki smugly, not ones to be swayed easily.

Well, then. He would see this as some kind of challenge and play along. This was a good opportunity to brush up on his useless high-heel walking skills.

"May I have the pleasure of the next dance?" He purred, trailing a hand lightly over Sanada's neck and shoulder, which earned him appreciative murmurs from the other men at the table.

Narrowing his eyes at Mizuki, Sanada declined. Had he noticed?

"If he doesn't want you I can offer my lap for dance, honey," an evidently drunk young lad called over the table, then broke out in roaring laughter, which his neighbors immediately joined in.

Mizuki smiled sweetly at him, before bending closer to Sanada, cupping his ching and tilting it, so they were vis-à-vis. "I don't have time to play with children. What I want is a real man," he drawled those last two words as coquettishly as he could manage, hoping they would not fail their purpose.

Indeed, the men at the table whistled, wheezed and urged Sanada on to take his chance. Which he did in the end, probably just to shut them up.

The next dance was a slow one, offering Mizuki many opportunities to brush his fingers over Sanada's exposed neck and rub his knee subtly but effectively against his dance partner's crotch. Their proximity was almost too much even for Mizuki's nerves, what with Sanada's breath ghosting over his cheek or the way their hips ground together, when Mizuki missed a step or two, not used to being led.

Sanada did not put much feeling into the dance, none at all, actually, which tickled Mizuki's playful vein. He let his left hand glide over the small of his back to rest on Sanada's buttocks, because he wanted to see what kind of reaction that would evoke. If none again, he would squeeze.

There was a reaction, however small, from Sanada this time. His until now so carefully composed features turned into a scowl and his posture felt even more rigid. Letting his gaze innocently travel through the room, he could see his cousins looking at them and giggling. At least someone thought this was funny.

When they came to a halt with the music, Sanada's respiration was a little deeper and faster than usual, which could not have been the result from the dance itself, undemanding as it had been. Looking deeply, almost challengingly into Sanada's eyes, Mizuki crushed his colored lips against the other's, one hand curling into the fabric on Sanada's thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. Flickering his gaze through the room, he perceived his cousins with hands over their mouths, both shocked and surprised. "Meet me outside."

Now was as good a time as any to finally disappear from the wedding party.

Mizuki hurried past the other other guests and out of the room. When the door fell close behind him, Mizuki could no longer suppress a silent laugh. His shoulders shook and his stomach hurt from trying to keep any sound to himself. This was interesting. He wondered whether Sanada would follow his invitation.

Mizuki went along the hallway in direction backdoor, chuckles still breaking his calm. Until he leaned his back against the rough outer wall to catch his breath in the cool night breeze. Stones crunching against soles interrupted the calming monotone of the cicada's chirping.

"Mizuki." The crunching sounds approached with the corresponding silhouette, framed by the weak yellow light of the garden lamp beside the back door. Sanada towered over him, able to crush him against the wall at any time.

Hmm, Mizuki loved this condescending expression in Sanada's eyes, as if he was wordlessly commanding him to get on his knees and suck him off.

"Do you enjoy flaunting yourself in dresses?" he asked instead, his voice like thunder, deep, rumbling and displeased.

What was he thinking? Did it look like Mizuki was elated to be wearing one? "If I have the pleasure of seeing a reaction like yours." He curled the edges of his mouth upward into a smug smile as his eyes traveled downward, and twirled a lock of hair around his finger. Miscalculation number one: his identity had been obvious after all, despite make-up, dress and female speech pattern.

"Why do want to make a fool out of me?" Sanada asked dangerously, though it wasn't enough to frighten Mizuki. Sanada would not smack him here, where both their families were prese-- Miscalculation number two. Sanada could, would and did slap him, even though someone could poke their head out of the open backdoor at any time and he might be in trouble.

Fighting the urge to touch a hand to his stinging cheek, Mizuki let his calculating eyes rest on Sanada's dark form. "The things one does to get laid," he sighed.

There was a brief silence, before Sanada spoke up again, bewilderment evident in his voice. "If this was all a design to get in my pants, you certainly could have had this easier. Why the dress?"

"Long story," Mizuki said as he closed the distance between them to run a hand over Sanada's chest. This was like playing with fire; Sanada's anger was just subdued, not entirely gone, but that made it so exciting. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind what exactly?" Sanada asked as he grabbed Mizuki's wrist.

Mizuki licked his lips languidly before answering. "Screwing a guy."

"Obviously not."

"Good, then let's skip the forplay."

"Not so fast." Before he had the chance of evaluating Sanada's facial expression, it vanished from his sight.

Mizuki's head spun as his knees connected with the ground and his flailing hands grasped at Sanada's pants in search of balance. He hissed as sharp pebbles dug into his skin, the thin layers of cloth as effective as if they weren't even there. "Impatient, are we?" He asked as he saw Sanada unbuckling his belt, freeing his half-erection.

Mizuki gulped at the sight of this gorgeous cock, immediately swallowing it like a delicious treat. Sanada hissed as Mizuki's hot mouth engulfed his pulsating member, eagerly taking in more and more with every bob of his head.

Mizuki nearly choked when Sanada slammed his dick uncontrollably against the back of his throat, groaning loudly. His scalp prickled as warm fingers threaded through his hair, holding his head as steady as if intending to crush it between the palms of his hands. The assault of his mouth made breathing a nearly impossible task, especially since it was tickled by the thick forest of Sanada's curls. His eyes watered with the effort of blocking out his gag reflex, certainly his make-up would be running in dirty streaks soon.

Not that he cared right now. He wanted this thick cock pounding his ass raw. Despite his delicate appearance, rough treatment thrilled Mizuki, it got him off so much sooner, let him fly so much higher. God, he whined and moaned and screamed like a bitch in heat, when Sanada finally obliged and fucked the living daylights out of him.

On a different note, Mizuki's amusement flared up when he imagined Kanako's reaction upon seeing her cum-stained dress. He guessed the sight of it said more than a thousand words about Sanada's orientation.