The Deflowering of Yukimura Seiichi

Part One

Midorino Mizu

Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama and all associated characters belong to Konomi Takeshi. Inihara Aki, however, does not. Yay for original characters. Or something.

Author’s Note: Idle minds plot strange things. And naughty, vaguely Victorian titles amuse me. Plotted by Murasaki and I, but I’m the one with the patience to actually write it, apparently.

~*~*~

Shortly before he turned twelve, Yukimura Seiichi noticed that some people - men, in particular - were acting differently around him. He didn't know exactly why.

He hadn't been completely unnoticed before - he'd always been cute, with curly dark hair and big eyes in a rounded face. People had often watched him, and he'd gotten used to it...but their watching was a little different now.

Yukimura hadn't realized it yet, but he wasn't cute anymore. He was pretty in an almost girlish way. There was something about his unconscious grace, about his dreaming eyes, that made men, even men who had only wanted women their entire lives, stare at Yukimura and want.

Yukimura couldn’t see that – all he could see was that people were staring at him, and that it was a different kind of staring than it had always been before. It made him a little uncomfortable, sometimes, but he didn’t know why that was, either.

Then he met Inihara Aki.

Inihara was a twenty-one-year-old intern at his father’s advertising firm; he’d started in March, shortly after Yukimura’s twelfth birthday.

Yukimura had always spent a lot of time at the firm – his father was a graphic designer and Yukimura wanted to be one as well, when he grew up. All the employees in that division had indulgently kept an eye on the younger Yukimura. But this intern was different.

He always watched Yukimura, but his gaze was more intense, and somehow darker than anyone else’s. As if he wasn’t afraid to be caught looking.

When Yukimura first noticed him, he didn’t know Inihara’s name. He knew he was an intern – he was a little younger than the rest of the employees, and he seemed a little less tired, less world-weary.

When he stared at the younger boy, it made Yukimura’s skin feel hot and tight, and he couldn’t meet Inihara’s gaze – not for long, at any rate.

For a while, Yukimura tried ignoring the intern, but that didn’t work so well. He tried to just sit in a secluded corner, drawing, but his eyes kept peeking up, to see if Inihara was watching.

Sometimes, at the end of the day, Yukimura would recognize the intern’s features in his sketches. And he’d wonder if he was getting fixated on the quiet designer who rarely spoke, but always watched.

That was how, on one lazy afternoon during Spring Break, Yukimura Seiichi found himself peering over the intern’s shoulder.

It had taken a lot of courage on his part – something about the older college boy frightened him a little. Sometimes there was a light in the intern’s eyes that Yukimura instinctively knew he should be wary of.

For almost an entire week, the twelve year old had hung back, occasionally watching the other man from afar.

But one day, he’d finally approached him.

Inihara had let him watch, keeping silent, ignoring the slight boy who was peeking over his shoulder. But finally he spoke.

“Can I help you with something, Yukimura-kun?”

Yukimura jumped slightly, startled. “Uh, no,” he said. “I just wanted to see what you were doing.”

Inihara smiled, a little amused by the wide-eyed almost-child. “It’s nothing terribly exciting,” he said. “Actually, I’m sure it’s something you’ve seen many times before.”

Yukimura shrugged. “If I’m bothering you…” he began.

Inihara shook his head. “Not at all, Yukimura-kun. You can sit there, if you want. Standing like that can’t be very comfortable.”

The young man impulsively grabbed Yukimura by the younger boy’s narrow waist and pushed him towards the high stool next to his.

He suppressed a broad grin as Yukimura squeaked and blushed. Really, Yukimura was adorable and alluring, all rolled together into one package.

And innocent, too, he thought as he watched the younger boy settle into the chair next to his at the drafting table. He obviously had no clue what he did to people.

Somehow, that made him even more attractive.

They were silent for a few moments, Inihara seemingly concentrating on his project, and Yukimura idly sketching in his sketchpad.

He looked up when he felt a familiar gaze focused on him, and found himself pinned by dark, intent eyes.

“Is there something wrong?” he started timidly.

It wasn’t the first time he’d caught the intern staring at him – he was beginning to recognize that expression, and it always made a slight shiver crawl up his back.

But he still didn’t know what it meant.

Inihara smiled, letting his stare flick down to Yukimura’s parted lips, before he shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong, Yuki-kun.”

Yukimura’s eyebrows rose. “Yuki-kun?” he asked. “Why are you calling me that?”

Inihara’s mouth curved in a lopsided grin. “Because it’s cute,” he said, rubbing a fingertip down Yukimura’s slim nose, wiping away a smudge of ink. “Like you.”

Yukimura blushed a furious red, and ducked his head, letting his dark, wavy hair curtain his hot face. “Oh,” he muttered.

Inihara was amused – Yukimura Seiichi was a mass of contradictions, more than most adolescents he remembered. He was easily embarrassed, that was obvious, but Inihara had also seen him blithely twisting most of the design staff around his little finger. He was both confident and insecure.

Yukimura Seiichi was…interesting.

He cupped his hand under the twelve year old’s chin and lifted it, making Yukimura look him in the eyes. “Is that embarrassing?” he asked. “I’m sorry.”

The intern was staring at Yukimura’s mouth again, and he could feel himself turning even brighter shades of red. “It’s okay,” he whispered hoarsely. He licked his lips in an unconscious, nervous gesture.

He gasped slightly when the intern’s eyes seemed to suddenly be even more intense, even more heated than they had been before.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” the older man asked, his voice deliberately casual.

Yukimura’s eyes widened and he shook his head mutely.

“Why not?” Inihara asked. “Your lips were made to be kissed,” he continued, rubbing his thumb lightly across Yukimura’s full lower lip.

“Uh…” stuttered Yukimura. “Well, no one ever did. I guess.”

“Ah,” returned the intern. He had a bright glint in his eyes that was partly amused, and partly pleased. “I get to be the first, then.”

He leaned close to Yukimura, brushing his lips gently across the younger boy’s.

Yukimura was shocked, frozen in place. He hadn’t spent much time imagining what his first kiss would be like; he was, after all, only twelve, and he hadn’t been interested in that kind of thing yet.

He was now. And what few dreams and thoughts he’d had were pale shadows when he was presented with the real thing.

Yukimura drew in a breath as the intern’s tongue licked at his bottom lip, pressing for entrance. He parted his lips on a gasp, and his eyes flew open as he felt Inihara’s warm tongue brush and curl against his own.

The boy broke away from the kiss, his hands braced against the intern’s broad shoulders. “What…” he started with a gasp.

“Shh,” murmured Inihara. “Now, that didn’t hurt, did it?”

Yukimura shook his head. “No…”

“Good.” Inihara smiled. “So, kiss me now.”

“What!” Yukimura squeaked. He felt color climbing his cheeks again.

Inihara’s lips twitched in a small smile. “Kiss me. Like I just did.”

“Uh,” stuttered Yukimura. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” The intern tipped his head to one side, and for a split-second, Yukimura thought he looked almost…hurt.

He started stammering again. “Well, uh, I…” He stopped, lapsing into silence and staring down at the blank paper of his sketchpad.

Yukimura looked up when he heard the older boy sigh heavily. “It’s alright, Yuki-kun. You don’t have to.”

Yukimura looked a shade panicked. “No,” he protested. “I’ll do it.”

The intern gave him a look that seemed a bit skeptical.

“I will!”

He leaned forward, closing his eyes, and resting his hands on the college student’s shoulders.

And gave Inihara a quick, chaste kiss on the lips before backing away with a nervous look.

The intern raised his eyebrows. “Is that how I kissed you, Yuki-kun?”

The twelve year old shook his head.

“Why don’t you kiss me like that?” Inihara asked.

He looked at Yukimura for a long time, and Yukimura stared back. His eyes were wide and a little scared in his pale face, and finally Inihara turned back to his project with a quiet sigh.

“Never mind,” he said. “It’s fine, if you don’t want to.”

“But…” began Yukimura timidly. “I do want to.” The intern continued to work, ignoring Seiichi, as he had been earlier.

Yukimura grabbed his shoulders again and stared him in the eyes. “I do.”

He took a deep breath and launched himself at Inihara, wrapping his arms firmly around the young man’s neck, and meeting his lips in an open-mouthed kiss.

Inihara chuckled softly as he curved a hand around Yukimura’s slender neck, pulling the boy closer to him, pressing their bodies together.

He felt the twelve year old jerk slightly when his cock rubbed against the boy’s leg, and he smiled.

“Touch me,” he murmured against Yukimura’s lips. He had one arm wrapped tightly around the slim boy’s waist, holding him firmly in place.

Yukimura’s eyes slid open and he reached up and brushed his hand uncertainly over Inihara’s cheek.

The intern smiled, and shook his head. “No, Yuki,” he said, pulling the boy’s small hand away from his face and guiding it lower. “Touch me here.”

Yukimura gasped softly, blushing bright pink. His brown eyes were wide open, and a little shocked.

“Oh,” he said. His eyes widened, and he jerked in Inihara’s arms, as if he’d been burned, as if he wanted to pull away from the man holding him. “It’s…hard.”

Inihara chuckled again, bending his head to kiss Yukimura another time. “Yes,” he murmured as his lips brushed over the twelve year old’s, “it is.”

When they finally broke apart, they were both taking shallow, gasping breaths, and their eyes were locked on each other’s faces. Then Inihara smiled.

“That was much better, Yuki-kun.”

Yukimura blushed bright red and ducked his head. He had a strange desire to scoot his stool closer to the intern’s.

“I should go,” he finally said, stammering. “My father will be wondering where I am.”

Before Inihara could speak, Yukimura had scrambled to his feet and backed quickly out of the room, dashing down the hall.

He didn’t stop until he’d reached the end of the corridor, and had turned the corner.

Yukimura stopped, leaning against the wall to catch his breath.

He didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into, he thought, sliding down the wall until he was crouched on the floor. He’d just been kissed, for the first time, and he’d returned the kiss. And then he’d kissed the man again. And touched his…his cock.

Yukimura’s cheeks burned bright red, and he rested his head against his knees, taking a few long, deep breaths, before looking up and staring blankly at the smooth white wall across from him.

He’d done all that, and he still didn’t know the intern’s name.