Some things never change

Midorino Mizu

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

Author’s Notes: So Sanada was having sadist fantasies about Keigo in my head, and it was shiny and I decided to fic it. Then it ended up being angsty and strange and not at all what I first intended. If you can have an AU to your own personal universe, this would be a good example of that.

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The cloth around Atobe Keigo’s wrists was soft, but knotted tight – so tight that his fingers tingled, just a little, as he tried flexing them – and when he tugged at it, testing the strength of the dark green and gold striped school tie wrapped around the bedpost and him, there was no effect, not even the slightest loosening.

He was well and truly caught, he thought as he stared up into his captor’s dark eyes, and a secret part of him wasn’t sure that he would move even if he were let loose.

“Sanada,” he growled, and his voice was still imperious, still arrogant. “Let me go.”

Atobe watched as Sanada Genichirou’s lips curved into something that was nearly a smile, but was just a little too dark, just a little to sinister to qualify.

“No,” Sanada said. “I don’t think I will.” He stroked a hand lazily over Atobe’s smooth skin. “You’re so pretty, like this.”

Atobe’s clothing had been lost somewhere between the door and the bed, his tie crumpled on the floor in the entryway, his white school-issued shirt thrown carelessly over a chair, his brown plaid pants in a tangled heap at the foot of the bed. That was the way it always was with Sanada – hard, fast, and now, that was the game they played. It was exactly what Atobe Keigo wanted, and that was the only reason he kept coming back.

He didn’t like Sanada Genichirou, found him too stiff and stoic, and infuriatingly correct; the exact opposite of Atobe Keigo’s own flamboyant, charismatic self. But Rikkaidai’s vice captain gave him exactly what he wanted, the way no one else ever did. No one else would ever dare, except for Sanada. So Atobe came back.

But Sanada was playing a different game this time, and something about it almost frightened the Hyoutei captain. Before, even when he was underneath the taller, stronger boy, he never felt completely out of control; there was always a part of him that remained aloof, untouched by what he was letting Sanada do to him.

But this time, it was…different.

“Let me go,” Atobe demanded again. “I don’t play this way.”

Sanada’s dark eyes bored into Atobe’s blue ones, and he smirked, pushing the Hyoutei player’s legs up. “You will this time, Atobe,” he said. “I don’t feel like playing by your rules tonight.”

He thrust inside, and it burned almost unbearably, in a familiar mingled pain and pleasure that made the Hyoutei captain cry out softly. Atobe’s legs locked around Sanada’s waist, as if he was trying to hold him in, keep him where the smaller boy most wanted him. This was still what he wanted he thought, as Sanada pressed inside with quick, hard strokes. Sanada was still giving him what he came for; he’d just changed it a little bit.

But then Sanada stopped.

Atobe opened his eyes and stared up at the boy he barely knew. “What are you doing?” he hissed out, wriggling on the mattress, trying to move on Sanada’s hard cock. It wasn’t working, the bindings on his hands held him too tightly; he could move, but it wasn’t enough.

“Nothing, Atobe,” Sanada murmured, his voice low and deep. He chuckled softly as Atobe thrashed around him, quiet, low moans breaking free. “I’m not doing anything at all. What do you want? Tell me.”

Atobe’s moans grew louder and his movements more desperate. He arched his hips, trying to pull Sanada deeper inside him, and pulled ineffectually at his bonds. “You…know,” he gritted out. “Do it.”

“I don’t think so.” Sanada gripped Atobe’s hips, and pushed him roughly back onto the mattress. His voice was firm and dark, and something about the tone said that he was used to and expected obedience. “I won’t do anything, Atobe, until you say it. Say it,” he purred softly. “Atobe. Keigo.”

“Bastard,” gasped Atobe. He vibrated under Sanada’s rough hands, unable to move, but trying all the same. “MOVE.”

Sanada chuckled, and his hands continued to press Atobe into the mattress, ignoring the other boy’s pained gasps as his fingers dug into the other boy’s soft skin. “That wasn’t very nice,” he murmured. He shifted his hips slightly, pushing himself a little deeper into the other boy before stopping, again. “I’m sure you know how to be much nicer.

Atobe tossed his head, his breath coming out in labored gasps. “I…I hate you,” he whimpered.

“I know you do,” Sanada murmured, brushing his lips almost gently across Atobe’s delicate ear lobe. He closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them again. “I know you do,” he repeated. “But you want me anyway,” he continued with a soft laugh. “You want me, so beg me.”

Atobe’s eyes squeezed shut, hot tears leaking out and coursing down his cheeks. He’d never had to beg for anything in his life; it was just given to him as a matter of course, because he was Atobe Keigo. But Sanada could make him plead, and Atobe hated him for that.

His next words came out in broken, harsh sobs. “I…. please, I need…you asshole…please, just…”

“That’s much better,” Sanada whispered, before pushing into Atobe, his strokes hard and deep and fast, the way he knew Atobe Keigo wanted it. The way it always was.

It was only a few moments before he heard Atobe’s voice rise in a choked scream, before he felt the other boy convulse around him. It was only a few moments after that before he felt himself slip away, felt the world fall away in a burst of burning pleasure.

When he could move again, he rolled off Atobe, brushing damp, light hair out of the other’s face as he looked down at him. Atobe had passed out, he thought as he gazed down at the slight figure collapsed on the bed. That had never happened before.

Sanada stood, swiftly untying his tie from around Atobe’s wrists, rubbing his thumbs lightly over the newly exposed skin, before letting the other boy’s slim arms fall to the bed. He watched as the smaller boy shifted slightly in his sleep, a gentle, tired sigh breaking through his parted lips.

Atobe was beautiful when he slept, Sanada thought as he pulled a sheet over his sometime-lover’s naked body. The tension and pride melted away, and he looked innocent and vulnerable in a way that was never apparent when he was awake. He traced his fingertips over the other’s boy’s soft cheek gently before stepping back.

Atobe wouldn’t want him there when he woke up…he wouldn’t want to see him, so he’d just leave now, and save them both the discomfort. Atobe always wanted to be alone, afterwards, anyway; this wouldn’t be any different.

Some things would never change, no matter how much he might wish otherwise, Sanada reflected as he stepped out of the small apartment, shutting the door silently behind him. He accepted that, long ago.

There was only one way he could have Atobe Keigo, only one way that the Hyoutei player would accept. It had been enough, for a while, but…

Sanada didn’t think it would be enough anymore.