Equilibrium

Midorino Mizu

Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama and all associated characters are the property of Konomi Takeshi.

Author’s Notes: Because Atobe complained that I left him hanging in order to give Tezuka some angst, and certain people were demanding smut. You know who you are. Title…because I needed one, and this was better than “Meanwhile, Back in Japan.”

*~*~*

Sanada Genichirou gently set the telephone down with a slight smirk. He turned back to his boyfriend, pushing his baseball cap further back on his head as he did so.

Atobe Keigo had his arms crossed across his chest, and an amused smirk twisted his mouth.

“I was getting off the phone, you know,” the Hyoutei captain said, amusement lacing his voice. It was always fun to watch Sanada turn his authoritarian personality on someone else.

Sanada snorted, flicking an incredulous glance at the telephone behind him before returning his attention to the boy in front of him. “Tezuka is single-minded,” he said, hooking a hand in the French terry cord Atobe had belted his robe with. He pulled the smaller player towards him, and bent his head. “It’s an admirable trait, I suppose, but I wasn’t willing to wait for you to break off the conversation,” murmured Sanada. He brushed his tongue across Keigo’s bottom lip, before moving back and concentrating on other areas.

He knew it drove Atobe crazy when he teased him, when he only gave Atobe a little of what he wanted. Which was why he did it, really.

The laugh that broke through Keigo’s lips was light and amused. “Genichirou,” he said in a deliberately sensual murmur. “The bedroom isn’t that far away.”

Sanada chuckled, his breath fluttering across Atobe’s sensitive skin. His eyes, normally calm and impassive, were lit with a predatory gleam.

Atobe Keigo was the only one who saw that particular expression off the tennis courts. He liked it that way.

Sanada’s hands had moved to his shoulders, and were pushing the white robe down over his arms, licking and nipping a path over his newly exposed skin.

Clearly, they weren’t moving to his more comfortable bedroom anytime soon.

The air was filled with the sounds of Atobe’s soft sighs and the rustle of clothing as they both tried to bare as much skin as possible, as quickly as possible.

Sometimes, they moved slowly, teasing each other with light touches and kisses until they were both insane from it.

And sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes, they were beyond controlling even that much.

“Genichirou,” Keigo moaned as he felt his partner’s teeth scrape gently across his collarbone, as he felt Sanada’s calloused hand slide up and between his legs. “Ohhh,”

Sanada grinned and leaned forward. “Is there something wrong, Keigo?” he whispered teasingly. He shifted his hips slightly, his grin widening when Keigo jerked forward, and gripped at Sanada’s shoulders with stiff fingers.

“I’m sure you won’t mind if we save the bedroom for later, right, Keigo?” Sanada continued as he backed the Hyoutei player up against the wall next to the table. He slid his hands under Atobe’s thighs, lifting them up around his hips. “I’m sure we’ll get there…eventually.”

Atobe groaned, letting his eyes drift shut briefly before opening them again. “Genichirou,” he said in one last protest. “I don’t have anything out here…I left it in the bedroom.

Sanada smirked, reaching into the pocket of his own dark red robe, and extracting a small tube. “Thanks all right, Keigo,” he said. “I brought it.”

Sanada Genichirou was one of the few people on the face of the earth who could make Atobe Keigo want to twitch. It had something to do with the Rikkai vice captain’s penchant for being more prepared than anyone had a right to be.

“Someday,” Keigo said in between gasps – Sanada was lightly coasting his fingers up and down Atobe’s cock, giving him just enough contact to drive him insane – “someday, I will rid you of your Boy Scout tendencies.”

Sanada quirked an eyebrow. Boy – no, he wasn’t going to go there. He could tease Keigo about that one later. And he would; it was rare that Hyoutei’s captain gave him any ammunition. It wouldn’t do to waste it.

He’d concern himself with it much later. For now, he had something far more interesting on his agenda.

“Wrap your legs around my waist, Keigo,” he ordered.

He was probably one of the only people who could order Atobe Keigo around, Sanada thought. He smiled as Keigo lifted his legs off his hips, and wrapped them more securely around him. Certainly he was one of the few who could order Hyoutei’s captain to do anything, without severe repercussions.

He rather liked having that kind of power.

Keigo looked up at him with lazy blue eyes. “Is that acceptable, sir?” he asked, a half smile curving his mouth.

Sanada flipped open the cap of the tube he held in his hand. “Very good, Keigo,” he returned. He poured a quantity of the clear, slippery liquid onto his palm, coating his fingers. He smiled as he reached under his lover.

“You’re a very good boy, Keigo,” he murmured as he circled Atobe’s opening with his long fingers. He slid one digit in, before pulling it back out again and circling again.

He was frustrating Atobe, he noted. It was easy to tell, after all this time, when his partner was feeling constrained. His eyes would go cold, and his mouth would twist into a scowl.

It was a natural reaction for a boy who was used to almost unquestioned rule.

Sanada liked to remind Keigo that he wasn’t always in control…and Keigo liked being reminded. It was something they both knew, something that was unspoken between them.

He slipped his fingers back in, carefully coating Keigo’s passage with the cool liquid. Keigo was tight, he thought with an inner smile, and he was in for a long night.

It was his job to make sure Atobe Keigo didn’t regret it in the morning.

“Are you done playing yet?” Atobe gritted out. His hands were clenched in the lapels of his boyfriend’s robe, and his hips were tilted at an uncomfortable angle.

Keigo could feel Sanada’s fingers everywhere except where he most wanted them. And it was no accident; Sanada did this far too often, in his estimation, for it not to be deliberate.

Sanada looked at him from under a long fringe of dark hair and the brim of his ever-present baseball cap. One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Oh, not nearly, Keigo.

“And you’d be disappointed if I were. But I suppose,” he added, “that the game can really start now. If you’re impatient.”

Keigo hissed as Sanada twisted his fingers slightly, brushing against the spot he’d been avoiding so assiduously. “Yes,” he said with a strangled moan.

Sanada pulled his hand away from Keigo’s body with a predatory smile. He pulled the belt of his robe loose before letting his hands rest on his partner’s hips, and leaned in close, meeting Keigo’s lips for a long, hard kiss, as if he was marking Atobe Keigo as his.

Which was ridiculous, really. Atobe Keigo had been his, for a long time now.

When he finally broke away, they were both breathing heavily, and their faces were flushed. Sanada brought one hand up to Keigo’s mouth, and brushed his thumb gently across the Hyoutei player’s swollen bottom lip.

“ You should be careful what you ask for, Keigo,” the Rikkai player said as he hitched Keigo’s legs higher and drove inside. Sharp fingernails dug into the flesh at his neck, and he smiled, pressing into Keigo with greater force and speed. “I might give you what you want.”

His last coherent thought as he gripped his boyfriend’s legs and slammed him up against the wall was that Atobe Keigo was going to have a lot of bruises in the morning.

The sounds Keigo was making seemed to indicate that he didn’t particularly care.

***

Even when Keigo finally opened his eyes, he wasn’t inclined to move. He was perfectly comfortable right where he was, slumped on the floor of his mother’s summer drawing room.

It was a strange feeling for someone who had grown up expecting, and receiving, the very best the world had to offer. But accurate, nonetheless.

Keigo lifted his head and looked up at Sanada. The Rikkai player was breathing just as heavily as he was, he noted. And his eyes were closed.

And he was still wearing that damned baseball cap.

Keigo narrowed his eyes. That was not acceptable.

“Genichirou,” he growled. His boyfriend opened his eyes lazily and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“Hmm?” he said. “What’s wrong, Keigo?”

Atobe Keigo huffed out an exasperated breath. “Take off the damn hat,” he said. “I don’t want to see it for the rest of the night.”

Sanada chuckled softly. “What if I don’t want to?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Keigo. “I’m not bothered by it.” Keigo's abject hatred of his choice of headwear was something that never ceased to amuse him.

“Genichirou,” Keigo warned before sighing. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll do it myself.” He lifted one arm, whipping it off Sanada’s head and tossing it across the room in one fluid motion.

“Much better,” he proclaimed.

“Glad you’re satisfied,” muttered Sanada. His hair was hanging in his eyes now, he noticed. Clearly, Keigo didn’t understand that he wore the hat for a reason.

“I’ll allow you to carry me back to the bedroom tonight,” Keigo murmured. His burst of energy had apparently been temporary, and he slumped forward, leaning his head on Sanada's chest. “You did promise we’d get there, remember?”

“Yeah,” said Sanada. “In a few minutes, Keigo.” He leaned his head back against the wall and let his eyes drift shut.

Neither boy moved for a long time, preferring to stay just as they were, for as long as they could.

They would have to go back to their usual, more discreet arrangement soon enough; for now, they would just let themselves be.

Just for a little while.

~fin