TeniPuri: (FIC) Shinjitsu Yukimura/Sanada NC-17
Title: Shinjitsu
Pairing: Yukimura/Sanada
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The night before.
A/N: I wrote this 3,600+ word fic over two days in chat. Thank you, whisper132 for being the recipient of said chat-fic, and everything else and more. A few people have asked me for SanaYuki. *gives* *flails a little*
He leaves with everyone else, and doubles back as soon as he's sure that no one, especially Renji, will notice. He can't just not be there. Sometimes, Genichirou wishes he never had to leave, and sometimes he wishes he never had to go again.
There's something unfathomable about Yukimura being sick that still makes him cringe, makes him want to say things he's never said. Instead, he goes on as he has been, as dutiful as ever, and hopes that it's enough, because he can't even think of what else to give.
Yukimura doesn't seem to be at all surprised to see him come back into his room a mere twenty minutes after he left. Instead, he pats the piece of bed right next to him and smiles, albeit a bit fake, and waits for him to sit. Genichirou walks over immediately, cursing his stomach for choosing that moment to start doing gymnastics. It's a visit like any other, and there's no reason for nerves to interfere. Except that's a lie and both he and Yukimura know it. It's the day before...he can't even make himself finish the thought. It's the day before, and if it were nothing, they both know he wouldn't have come back.
But he is there, and he is sitting down next to Yukimura and he is thinking of taking a risk and maybe picking up Yukimura's hand to hold. He wants to do it, badly, but he wonders if Yukimura will see him as being weak. If there's one thing he dreads, it's being weak in front of his captain. Genichirou's always been strong, and he's sure if he weren't that Yukimura never would have looked at him.
This inner-debate renders him speechless until he realises that he's sat there for ten minutes without a word, his hand half-hovering over Yukimura's.
"Tell me about practice," Yukimura says then, and he feels everything inside crumble just a little. It's so mundane and so trivial and so not what either is thinking or wants to say that he feels sick.
"Seiichi," he replies, and lowers his head, hoping that his hat will cover a world of sins painted on his face in blushes and furrows of his brow. The last thing he wants is for Yukimura to comfort him, rendering him more useless than he feels right now
He opens his mouth again, but the words are swimming in the pit of his stomach. Strangely, this is what allows him to just grab Yukimura's hand, holding it snugly in his own. He looks down at their hands and wonders if he even should say anything. Right now, every single thing that's been in his mind sounds trite and a lot more like goodbye than he cares for, so he continues saying nothing at all.
For the first time, Yukimura doesn't bother filling in the silence either, doesn't make useless apologies to him as a matter of inbred formality, and that, if nothing else, makes his tummy squirm. The sound of hospital is all around them, beeps and alarms and shuffling feet. He normally doesn't notice them, instead focusing on keeping Akaya quiet or trying not to let his team mates get so loud that the old nurse with the ugly bun has to come in and tell them to leave. Now, it's just them and the echoes of fragility of life intruding upon them.
Absently, he brings Yukimura's hand to his mouth, kisses it before he knows what's he's doing. The taste of Yukimura on his lips brings him out of his trance, and he almost drops the hand in shock. He knows that he shouldn't have done that, never have been given leave to be so forward. He finds that he can't face Yukimura then, but he can't move. So, he just stares at a small space on the wall, a black scuffmark marring perfect white and waits for the reprimand...for the rejection...for something. He wants it, too. Maybe it's that he wants to hear Yukimura's voice, even if it's telling him how disgusting he is, because Yukimura's voice, even when yelling, is precious to him.
To his surprise, Yukimura does none of those things, and instead places his hand on Genichirou's thigh and squeezes. It's too high up to be friendly, too lingering to be an accident, and he hates himself for getting hard immediately.
"Genichirou," Yukimura says finally, and he turns to see that smile of his that Genichirou treasures. He leans a little closer, because there's something about that smile that's hard to resist. And even though he's moving closer, he's still feels shock course through him when Yukimura closes the gap between them and kisses him on the lips. It's his first, and he feels idiotic, and horribly off, but it's also feels like the better than his best match, so he continues kissing, hoping that he's getting it right, because Seiichi certainly is; the way his whole body tingles tells him so.
When they stop kissing, Genichirou moves back, but not away. He still wants to breathe the same air as Yukimura, still wants to stare at Yukimura's lips, because he's dreamt of this so many times, and he needs to keep looking to convince himself it's real.
"Seiichi," he whispers, feeling as if speaking any louder will make everything stop. Yukimura runs his hand down the side of his face, cupping his cheek, and Genichirou isn't sure which is burning, because all he can feel is heat. There's another kiss, and his eyes close this time, even though he wants to have Yukimura's face emblazoned on his memory. They close and he can't stop them. His head is swimming and his palms are damp with sweat and there's nothing but Yukimura on his tongue. There are a million questions there, too, that he's not-quite-afraid of asking.
"Genichirou," Yukimura replies, and leans back not a moment too soon, because the door is opening, and a nurse is bustling about checking on this and that. He doesn't move immediately, knowing that'd be more suspicious than he if he acts like there's nothing strange about two boys sitting so close, with pink cheeks and puffy lips.
His tongue darts out to lick them, hoping the taste of Yukimura is still there. He almost smiles when he realises that it is. He wants it to last forever. Once the nurse leaves, Genichirou leans in closer again, not because wants another kiss, though he does, but because Yukimura looks like he wants to say something, but is hesitant. He's never seen this expression before, and he wants to memorise it before it evaporates.
"I want to..." Yukimura begins, "with you, now." Genichirou takes a second to process the sentence and then a further two minutes to actually realise what Yukimura is asking of him. Yukimura grabs his face again, holding his cheek. "It'll be another hour and a half before she comes back."
There's another million questions adding to the ones he has from before. "How do you know?" he asks, thinking of the most pressing one aside from, are you asking what I think you're asking?
Yukimura smiles, and answers, "I timed it." There's a slight blush on his cheeks, and Genichirou feels the urge to touch them, feel the soft skin under his fingertips. He clenches them in fists on his lap, and wonders what he should do, say.
A part of him wants to tell Yukimura no, to refuse this request. It's not that he doesn't want him. If anything, Genichirou thinks he wants Yukimura too much, so much that there's little room in him for anyone or anything else. It's that by agreeing to this, even if it's what he's dreamt about for as long as he can remember, is in some way acknowledging that there may not be another chance. He can't think like that, doesn't want to.
He hates that there's a part of Yukimura even considering that there may not be another chance. That there may not be a later. He closes his eyes, presses Yukimura's hand to his lips again, and thinks. He won't make this choice rashly, despite their limited time frame. He wants it to be for the right reasons, and not because it'll be a goodbye. He wants Yukimura to want this because he wants him, and not because he has a mental check-list of things to do before tomorrow, and Genichirou just happens to be there, the only person who will never deny him anything.
Yukimura moves his hand down, lightly placing it on his shoulder, tugging him close again. Yukimura will never beg, and Genichirou doesn't want him to. Yukimura is the strongest boy he knows; it's why he so willingly follows him, wants to integrate himself in all things Yukimura. He hears the whispers, the jokes, about himself. He hears people question what kind of man would so blindly follow another, without the slightest hesitation or shame. Genichirou doesn't care because he is the sort of man to follow Yukimura, but he doesn't do it blindly.
If anything, it's because he sees Yukimura so clearly, so brightly, that he does; following him is something he can't not do. It's then that he nods, never really doubting that he may have chosen to refuse. He never wants to be the one to refuse Yukimura anything that he wants. Instead, he wants to be the one Yukimura seeks, knowing that he'll provide the anything he needs. He moves forward to kiss Yukimura again, and the lips are more insistent against his own this time, making every part of him want every part of Yukimura in turn. Yukimura pushes gently at his shoulder, and he hopes it's not because he's done anything wrong. Every part of him feels too big and clumsy, and Yukimura looks smaller than he should resting on that bed.
"I want to do this right," Yukimura says, and begins to remove his shirt. Genichirou just watches for a moment before Yukimura catches his eyes, giving him a look, part amusement, part expectantcy.
He hurriedly gets to his feet, and takes off his own shirt, pants, strips down completely, baring all in front of the one person he trusts more than himself. He places the clothes and his hat in a pile on the chair and gives a passing thought to the truth that even if Yukimura has timed everything, there's still the risk, the chance of someone walking in, seeing everything. He doesn't back down, even then, because Yukimura is worth any risk, to him, and any outcome, and Yukimura is willing to risk all this and more, just to be with him as well. This makes his stomach flip and he needs to sit down.
Yukimura pulls back the blanket a little, shifting carefully to the side, and he crawls in next to him. They look at each other, reclining on their sides, but neither move. There's a blanket over the both of them, but the chill against his naked skin is unmistakable. He moves closer, presses his upper body against Yukimura, and sighs. This...this moment is perfect to him.
Yukimura smiles at him, trailing fingers down his shoulders, chest, and he waits, allows this because he never felt something so wonderful as Yukimura's willing fingers touching his skin. The urge to kiss Yukimura is almost unbearable, so he does, their lips are dry, their tongues wet, and their teeth bump, but it's Yukimura, so it's perfect. Genichirou wants more, moves his hands hesitantly to touch Yukimura's back, wanting to make Yukimura feel like he's feeling.
He exhales a little heavily, pressing his forehead against Yukimura's shoulder, and just waits. A part of him is content with just this. Just holding Yukimura close to him, kissing him. He does and doesn't want more. He wants this to mean as much to Yukimura as it does to him, but he feels silly even thinking this, never mind asking. He wants to wait until after a hard day of practice, or after they win the Nationals a third time or after mastering another technique in the dojo. He doesn't want it to be like a goodbye. It can't be a goodbye, because he knows it'll ruin him.
He moves his hands slowly down, not wanting to miss anything, and as they reach where Yukimura's pants should be, he realises they aren't there. It's then that he's truly hit with the fact that this isn't a spur of the moment thing. This was planned.
"How..." he manages to say, face still pressing against Yukimura's shoulder.
Yukimura laughs a little. "I know you." This relaxes him more than it should.
He lifts his face to kiss Yukimura again, and holds Yukimura close to him, unable to leave to worry about his illness alone, even then. He doesn't want to make a mistake, because he needs to do it right the first time. Yukimura's hand loses its playful exploration, moving with determination down his body, curling around his cock before he has the presence of mind to know what's happening. He gasps, despite himself, almost comes and moans against Yukimura's lips. He loses himself in this kiss, their tongues colliding, their mouths wet and needy against each other.
He moves his hands to cup Yukimura's ass, pressing their bodies closer together. Yukimura lets go of his cock, instead moves against it with his own. Genichirou feels like he's in a haze, and the only clear thing is the boy in his arms.
"Under my pillow," Yukimura says, panting, as he breaks away from the kiss. He nods, and feels himself blush, because he can feel Yukimura's eyes watching his every move.
There are two condoms and a small tube under the pillow, and he stops himself from asking where Yukimura got them from. Two names immediately come to mind, and then a third. He doesn't really care, though, because he has a feeling people will know no matter what. Renji once told him that the way he feels for Yukimura was written on his face for the world to see. Nothing has changed. That, he knows, will never change.
He freezes with the tube in his hands, not knowing quite how to proceed. He knows what to do in theory; he's seen things. Those things, however, were never in a hospital, never were with someone on the night before a surgery, never on a night before an important game.
He clenches his hand a little, and tries to formulate the question in his mind about who does what and where, and finds that he can't even sufficiently voice it in the privacy of his own thoughts. He doesn't know what Yukimura expects either.
Yukimura, however, doesn't say anything, touches him instead, makes every thought that much more in a muddle, convoluting everything. He takes the tube, and they both watch as he lifts Yukimura's hand, squeezing some onto his palm. He guides Yukimura's hand back down, reaching between his legs, and waits. He doesn't know exactly what to expect, now, but all he knows Yukimura's body is tired, half-working, and he can't just treat it with anything but the utmost care and reverence.
"You have a game tomorrow," Yukimura comments as he presses one finger inside of him.
Genichirou inhales sharply, but shakes his head, and replies, "You have..." but he's cut off when Yukimura kisses him again, more teeth than tongue, messy and bruising and just enough to distract him from the weird sensations filling his lower half. He spreads his legs a little wider, and Yukimura's fingers go deeper. He shifts, then, moves to straddle Yukimura's waist, places his hands on either side of him, and leans down and kisses him again.
He hovers over Yukimura, holding his weight up on his forearms and knees. The fingers inside of him move insistently, and he finds himself clenching his jaw as the pain flares before subsiding to a dull throb. It's now that he's grateful for his decision. He wants this to be perfect for Yukimura, no pain, no discomfort, and he'll gladly keep it all to himself.
"Ah," he breathes out, despite trying to keep everything in, and Yukimura stills.
"Don't stop," he whispers, and Yukimura presses three fingers inside of him. He takes a deep breath, and then another, and then another, relaxes himself without realising, and waits for the pain to subside like before. He busies himself with opening the condom wrapper while half holding himself with one elbow. Yukimura's fingers pull out of him, dragging against his skin as they do.
He looks down at Yukimura, then, watching him as he slowly lowers himself on Yukimura's cock. Any discomfort disappears as he watches Yukimura's face, eyes shut, lip between his teeth, and a faint pink tint to his cheeks. He feels completely full and his heart is pounding almost through his chest. He leans forward again, and kisses Yukimura to distract himself as his body adjusts. There's something so right, though, about Yukimura being inside of him, and he almost says something right then, but stops himself with licks and kisses until he can think of nothing more than the way Yukimura moves inside of him.
They move slowly, despite the way their time alone ticks away. He doesn't care, at that point, focusing solely on Yukimura, who's staring back. He reaches to the side, and grabs another pillow, placing it under Yukimura's head. He wants to kiss him, wants to feel Yukimura's skin, but he's a little scared of crushing him. It makes things easier.
Yukimura's lips are in easy reach and his chest rubs against Yukimura's as they kiss. He can't exactly pinpoint the moment when it changes, but every part of his body feels good. The way Yukimura's cock thrusts inside of him feels incredibly good, and his hips move just a little faster, wanting more, and he can hardly remember the pain at all. Yukimura runs his hands up Genichirou's arms, his shoulders, the back of his neck, and finally thread their way through his hair. The fingers dance along the nape of his neck and on his scalp. It makes him never want to wear his hat again, if he could only keep this one sensation for the rest of his life.
"Gen--"Yukimura begins, cuts off when Genichriou bites him, careful not to leave a mark, but not able to stop himself from tasting the skin at his neck. Yukimura's hand grips his hair, almost tugging at it as he thrusts up, again, his other hand trailing down Genichirou's back, resting at his tailbone, and pressing him down. He feels completely surrounded by Yukimura in this moment, every centimetre of their skin is touching; Yukimura's scent envelopes him, and his mind, his thoughts know nothing else. This time, after he kisses Yukimura's shoulder, the side of his neck, the shell of his ear, he can't stop the words, whispering them into Yukimura's skin, so softly, that he hopes they're not loud enough to hear. The way Yukimura's arms tighten around him tell him otherwise.
He says it again, then, just as quietly, his lips brushing Yukimura's neck as he does. It doesn't matter in this moment alone, because it's true and the words are echoing in his mind over and over along with Yukimura's name. Later, he can be embarrassed, later he can lay sleepless in his bed thinking of how Yukimura's legs barely moved, later he can wonder what was going through his mind when he spoke the irreversible, all of that can happen later. Right now, he wants to think about the arms around him, he wants to think about the way Yukimura's kisses make his whole body feel alive, he wants to think of that look in Yukimura's eyes, and if his eyes are the same.
"Mhmm," Yukimura moans, tensing as he grips him harshly. He can feel the pulsing inside of him, can see Yukimura's mouth open and panting, and he just watches.
Genichirou doesn't want to move off of Yukimura, but he was to. After tossing the condom in the trash, he curls up next to Yukimura, placing an arm around him. He's still hard, but he doesn't care because everything has been perfect for Yukimura, and that's all he ever wants.
"Genichirou," Yukimura says, turning as much as he can towards him. The hand on his cock almost surprises him, and he can do nothing but pant as Yukimura strokes him, almost roughly.
He threads his fingers through Yukimura's hair, cupping the back of his head as he tries to kiss him once more. He ends up panting against Yukimura's lips, tongue darting out to taste them in between moans and gasps. He comes, and he feels like he's falling. He doesn't care about where they are or the mess between them, only that he can hold Yukimura for a few more minutes before he has to go and has to leave Yukimura here, alone.
"Stay here a little longer," Yukimura says to him, closing his eyes for a moment. He nods, and spares a glance at the clock. For as long as it had seemed at the time, he feels a moment of surprise to learn that only forty minutes have passed. Another fifty remain, and he wants to spend them like this.
"You're going to be sore tomorrow," Yukimura comments after ten minutes of silence and sporadic kisses. He shrugs, not really caring.
"I won't be playing." He has no doubt that his team will sweep Seigaku, and he's in singles one. Yukimura laughs.
"Of course." Genichirou entwines their fingers, pressing their hands against Yukimura's chest.
"I promised you." He has no intention of not following through. He closes his eyes, then, and they rest in silence, trying not to think of tomorrow, but after, everything after.
Pairing: Yukimura/Sanada
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The night before.
A/N: I wrote this 3,600+ word fic over two days in chat. Thank you, whisper132 for being the recipient of said chat-fic, and everything else and more. A few people have asked me for SanaYuki. *gives* *flails a little*
He leaves with everyone else, and doubles back as soon as he's sure that no one, especially Renji, will notice. He can't just not be there. Sometimes, Genichirou wishes he never had to leave, and sometimes he wishes he never had to go again.
There's something unfathomable about Yukimura being sick that still makes him cringe, makes him want to say things he's never said. Instead, he goes on as he has been, as dutiful as ever, and hopes that it's enough, because he can't even think of what else to give.
Yukimura doesn't seem to be at all surprised to see him come back into his room a mere twenty minutes after he left. Instead, he pats the piece of bed right next to him and smiles, albeit a bit fake, and waits for him to sit. Genichirou walks over immediately, cursing his stomach for choosing that moment to start doing gymnastics. It's a visit like any other, and there's no reason for nerves to interfere. Except that's a lie and both he and Yukimura know it. It's the day before...he can't even make himself finish the thought. It's the day before, and if it were nothing, they both know he wouldn't have come back.
But he is there, and he is sitting down next to Yukimura and he is thinking of taking a risk and maybe picking up Yukimura's hand to hold. He wants to do it, badly, but he wonders if Yukimura will see him as being weak. If there's one thing he dreads, it's being weak in front of his captain. Genichirou's always been strong, and he's sure if he weren't that Yukimura never would have looked at him.
This inner-debate renders him speechless until he realises that he's sat there for ten minutes without a word, his hand half-hovering over Yukimura's.
"Tell me about practice," Yukimura says then, and he feels everything inside crumble just a little. It's so mundane and so trivial and so not what either is thinking or wants to say that he feels sick.
"Seiichi," he replies, and lowers his head, hoping that his hat will cover a world of sins painted on his face in blushes and furrows of his brow. The last thing he wants is for Yukimura to comfort him, rendering him more useless than he feels right now
He opens his mouth again, but the words are swimming in the pit of his stomach. Strangely, this is what allows him to just grab Yukimura's hand, holding it snugly in his own. He looks down at their hands and wonders if he even should say anything. Right now, every single thing that's been in his mind sounds trite and a lot more like goodbye than he cares for, so he continues saying nothing at all.
For the first time, Yukimura doesn't bother filling in the silence either, doesn't make useless apologies to him as a matter of inbred formality, and that, if nothing else, makes his tummy squirm. The sound of hospital is all around them, beeps and alarms and shuffling feet. He normally doesn't notice them, instead focusing on keeping Akaya quiet or trying not to let his team mates get so loud that the old nurse with the ugly bun has to come in and tell them to leave. Now, it's just them and the echoes of fragility of life intruding upon them.
Absently, he brings Yukimura's hand to his mouth, kisses it before he knows what's he's doing. The taste of Yukimura on his lips brings him out of his trance, and he almost drops the hand in shock. He knows that he shouldn't have done that, never have been given leave to be so forward. He finds that he can't face Yukimura then, but he can't move. So, he just stares at a small space on the wall, a black scuffmark marring perfect white and waits for the reprimand...for the rejection...for something. He wants it, too. Maybe it's that he wants to hear Yukimura's voice, even if it's telling him how disgusting he is, because Yukimura's voice, even when yelling, is precious to him.
To his surprise, Yukimura does none of those things, and instead places his hand on Genichirou's thigh and squeezes. It's too high up to be friendly, too lingering to be an accident, and he hates himself for getting hard immediately.
"Genichirou," Yukimura says finally, and he turns to see that smile of his that Genichirou treasures. He leans a little closer, because there's something about that smile that's hard to resist. And even though he's moving closer, he's still feels shock course through him when Yukimura closes the gap between them and kisses him on the lips. It's his first, and he feels idiotic, and horribly off, but it's also feels like the better than his best match, so he continues kissing, hoping that he's getting it right, because Seiichi certainly is; the way his whole body tingles tells him so.
When they stop kissing, Genichirou moves back, but not away. He still wants to breathe the same air as Yukimura, still wants to stare at Yukimura's lips, because he's dreamt of this so many times, and he needs to keep looking to convince himself it's real.
"Seiichi," he whispers, feeling as if speaking any louder will make everything stop. Yukimura runs his hand down the side of his face, cupping his cheek, and Genichirou isn't sure which is burning, because all he can feel is heat. There's another kiss, and his eyes close this time, even though he wants to have Yukimura's face emblazoned on his memory. They close and he can't stop them. His head is swimming and his palms are damp with sweat and there's nothing but Yukimura on his tongue. There are a million questions there, too, that he's not-quite-afraid of asking.
"Genichirou," Yukimura replies, and leans back not a moment too soon, because the door is opening, and a nurse is bustling about checking on this and that. He doesn't move immediately, knowing that'd be more suspicious than he if he acts like there's nothing strange about two boys sitting so close, with pink cheeks and puffy lips.
His tongue darts out to lick them, hoping the taste of Yukimura is still there. He almost smiles when he realises that it is. He wants it to last forever. Once the nurse leaves, Genichirou leans in closer again, not because wants another kiss, though he does, but because Yukimura looks like he wants to say something, but is hesitant. He's never seen this expression before, and he wants to memorise it before it evaporates.
"I want to..." Yukimura begins, "with you, now." Genichirou takes a second to process the sentence and then a further two minutes to actually realise what Yukimura is asking of him. Yukimura grabs his face again, holding his cheek. "It'll be another hour and a half before she comes back."
There's another million questions adding to the ones he has from before. "How do you know?" he asks, thinking of the most pressing one aside from, are you asking what I think you're asking?
Yukimura smiles, and answers, "I timed it." There's a slight blush on his cheeks, and Genichirou feels the urge to touch them, feel the soft skin under his fingertips. He clenches them in fists on his lap, and wonders what he should do, say.
A part of him wants to tell Yukimura no, to refuse this request. It's not that he doesn't want him. If anything, Genichirou thinks he wants Yukimura too much, so much that there's little room in him for anyone or anything else. It's that by agreeing to this, even if it's what he's dreamt about for as long as he can remember, is in some way acknowledging that there may not be another chance. He can't think like that, doesn't want to.
He hates that there's a part of Yukimura even considering that there may not be another chance. That there may not be a later. He closes his eyes, presses Yukimura's hand to his lips again, and thinks. He won't make this choice rashly, despite their limited time frame. He wants it to be for the right reasons, and not because it'll be a goodbye. He wants Yukimura to want this because he wants him, and not because he has a mental check-list of things to do before tomorrow, and Genichirou just happens to be there, the only person who will never deny him anything.
Yukimura moves his hand down, lightly placing it on his shoulder, tugging him close again. Yukimura will never beg, and Genichirou doesn't want him to. Yukimura is the strongest boy he knows; it's why he so willingly follows him, wants to integrate himself in all things Yukimura. He hears the whispers, the jokes, about himself. He hears people question what kind of man would so blindly follow another, without the slightest hesitation or shame. Genichirou doesn't care because he is the sort of man to follow Yukimura, but he doesn't do it blindly.
If anything, it's because he sees Yukimura so clearly, so brightly, that he does; following him is something he can't not do. It's then that he nods, never really doubting that he may have chosen to refuse. He never wants to be the one to refuse Yukimura anything that he wants. Instead, he wants to be the one Yukimura seeks, knowing that he'll provide the anything he needs. He moves forward to kiss Yukimura again, and the lips are more insistent against his own this time, making every part of him want every part of Yukimura in turn. Yukimura pushes gently at his shoulder, and he hopes it's not because he's done anything wrong. Every part of him feels too big and clumsy, and Yukimura looks smaller than he should resting on that bed.
"I want to do this right," Yukimura says, and begins to remove his shirt. Genichirou just watches for a moment before Yukimura catches his eyes, giving him a look, part amusement, part expectantcy.
He hurriedly gets to his feet, and takes off his own shirt, pants, strips down completely, baring all in front of the one person he trusts more than himself. He places the clothes and his hat in a pile on the chair and gives a passing thought to the truth that even if Yukimura has timed everything, there's still the risk, the chance of someone walking in, seeing everything. He doesn't back down, even then, because Yukimura is worth any risk, to him, and any outcome, and Yukimura is willing to risk all this and more, just to be with him as well. This makes his stomach flip and he needs to sit down.
Yukimura pulls back the blanket a little, shifting carefully to the side, and he crawls in next to him. They look at each other, reclining on their sides, but neither move. There's a blanket over the both of them, but the chill against his naked skin is unmistakable. He moves closer, presses his upper body against Yukimura, and sighs. This...this moment is perfect to him.
Yukimura smiles at him, trailing fingers down his shoulders, chest, and he waits, allows this because he never felt something so wonderful as Yukimura's willing fingers touching his skin. The urge to kiss Yukimura is almost unbearable, so he does, their lips are dry, their tongues wet, and their teeth bump, but it's Yukimura, so it's perfect. Genichirou wants more, moves his hands hesitantly to touch Yukimura's back, wanting to make Yukimura feel like he's feeling.
He exhales a little heavily, pressing his forehead against Yukimura's shoulder, and just waits. A part of him is content with just this. Just holding Yukimura close to him, kissing him. He does and doesn't want more. He wants this to mean as much to Yukimura as it does to him, but he feels silly even thinking this, never mind asking. He wants to wait until after a hard day of practice, or after they win the Nationals a third time or after mastering another technique in the dojo. He doesn't want it to be like a goodbye. It can't be a goodbye, because he knows it'll ruin him.
He moves his hands slowly down, not wanting to miss anything, and as they reach where Yukimura's pants should be, he realises they aren't there. It's then that he's truly hit with the fact that this isn't a spur of the moment thing. This was planned.
"How..." he manages to say, face still pressing against Yukimura's shoulder.
Yukimura laughs a little. "I know you." This relaxes him more than it should.
He lifts his face to kiss Yukimura again, and holds Yukimura close to him, unable to leave to worry about his illness alone, even then. He doesn't want to make a mistake, because he needs to do it right the first time. Yukimura's hand loses its playful exploration, moving with determination down his body, curling around his cock before he has the presence of mind to know what's happening. He gasps, despite himself, almost comes and moans against Yukimura's lips. He loses himself in this kiss, their tongues colliding, their mouths wet and needy against each other.
He moves his hands to cup Yukimura's ass, pressing their bodies closer together. Yukimura lets go of his cock, instead moves against it with his own. Genichirou feels like he's in a haze, and the only clear thing is the boy in his arms.
"Under my pillow," Yukimura says, panting, as he breaks away from the kiss. He nods, and feels himself blush, because he can feel Yukimura's eyes watching his every move.
There are two condoms and a small tube under the pillow, and he stops himself from asking where Yukimura got them from. Two names immediately come to mind, and then a third. He doesn't really care, though, because he has a feeling people will know no matter what. Renji once told him that the way he feels for Yukimura was written on his face for the world to see. Nothing has changed. That, he knows, will never change.
He freezes with the tube in his hands, not knowing quite how to proceed. He knows what to do in theory; he's seen things. Those things, however, were never in a hospital, never were with someone on the night before a surgery, never on a night before an important game.
He clenches his hand a little, and tries to formulate the question in his mind about who does what and where, and finds that he can't even sufficiently voice it in the privacy of his own thoughts. He doesn't know what Yukimura expects either.
Yukimura, however, doesn't say anything, touches him instead, makes every thought that much more in a muddle, convoluting everything. He takes the tube, and they both watch as he lifts Yukimura's hand, squeezing some onto his palm. He guides Yukimura's hand back down, reaching between his legs, and waits. He doesn't know exactly what to expect, now, but all he knows Yukimura's body is tired, half-working, and he can't just treat it with anything but the utmost care and reverence.
"You have a game tomorrow," Yukimura comments as he presses one finger inside of him.
Genichirou inhales sharply, but shakes his head, and replies, "You have..." but he's cut off when Yukimura kisses him again, more teeth than tongue, messy and bruising and just enough to distract him from the weird sensations filling his lower half. He spreads his legs a little wider, and Yukimura's fingers go deeper. He shifts, then, moves to straddle Yukimura's waist, places his hands on either side of him, and leans down and kisses him again.
He hovers over Yukimura, holding his weight up on his forearms and knees. The fingers inside of him move insistently, and he finds himself clenching his jaw as the pain flares before subsiding to a dull throb. It's now that he's grateful for his decision. He wants this to be perfect for Yukimura, no pain, no discomfort, and he'll gladly keep it all to himself.
"Ah," he breathes out, despite trying to keep everything in, and Yukimura stills.
"Don't stop," he whispers, and Yukimura presses three fingers inside of him. He takes a deep breath, and then another, and then another, relaxes himself without realising, and waits for the pain to subside like before. He busies himself with opening the condom wrapper while half holding himself with one elbow. Yukimura's fingers pull out of him, dragging against his skin as they do.
He looks down at Yukimura, then, watching him as he slowly lowers himself on Yukimura's cock. Any discomfort disappears as he watches Yukimura's face, eyes shut, lip between his teeth, and a faint pink tint to his cheeks. He feels completely full and his heart is pounding almost through his chest. He leans forward again, and kisses Yukimura to distract himself as his body adjusts. There's something so right, though, about Yukimura being inside of him, and he almost says something right then, but stops himself with licks and kisses until he can think of nothing more than the way Yukimura moves inside of him.
They move slowly, despite the way their time alone ticks away. He doesn't care, at that point, focusing solely on Yukimura, who's staring back. He reaches to the side, and grabs another pillow, placing it under Yukimura's head. He wants to kiss him, wants to feel Yukimura's skin, but he's a little scared of crushing him. It makes things easier.
Yukimura's lips are in easy reach and his chest rubs against Yukimura's as they kiss. He can't exactly pinpoint the moment when it changes, but every part of his body feels good. The way Yukimura's cock thrusts inside of him feels incredibly good, and his hips move just a little faster, wanting more, and he can hardly remember the pain at all. Yukimura runs his hands up Genichirou's arms, his shoulders, the back of his neck, and finally thread their way through his hair. The fingers dance along the nape of his neck and on his scalp. It makes him never want to wear his hat again, if he could only keep this one sensation for the rest of his life.
"Gen--"Yukimura begins, cuts off when Genichriou bites him, careful not to leave a mark, but not able to stop himself from tasting the skin at his neck. Yukimura's hand grips his hair, almost tugging at it as he thrusts up, again, his other hand trailing down Genichirou's back, resting at his tailbone, and pressing him down. He feels completely surrounded by Yukimura in this moment, every centimetre of their skin is touching; Yukimura's scent envelopes him, and his mind, his thoughts know nothing else. This time, after he kisses Yukimura's shoulder, the side of his neck, the shell of his ear, he can't stop the words, whispering them into Yukimura's skin, so softly, that he hopes they're not loud enough to hear. The way Yukimura's arms tighten around him tell him otherwise.
He says it again, then, just as quietly, his lips brushing Yukimura's neck as he does. It doesn't matter in this moment alone, because it's true and the words are echoing in his mind over and over along with Yukimura's name. Later, he can be embarrassed, later he can lay sleepless in his bed thinking of how Yukimura's legs barely moved, later he can wonder what was going through his mind when he spoke the irreversible, all of that can happen later. Right now, he wants to think about the arms around him, he wants to think about the way Yukimura's kisses make his whole body feel alive, he wants to think of that look in Yukimura's eyes, and if his eyes are the same.
"Mhmm," Yukimura moans, tensing as he grips him harshly. He can feel the pulsing inside of him, can see Yukimura's mouth open and panting, and he just watches.
Genichirou doesn't want to move off of Yukimura, but he was to. After tossing the condom in the trash, he curls up next to Yukimura, placing an arm around him. He's still hard, but he doesn't care because everything has been perfect for Yukimura, and that's all he ever wants.
"Genichirou," Yukimura says, turning as much as he can towards him. The hand on his cock almost surprises him, and he can do nothing but pant as Yukimura strokes him, almost roughly.
He threads his fingers through Yukimura's hair, cupping the back of his head as he tries to kiss him once more. He ends up panting against Yukimura's lips, tongue darting out to taste them in between moans and gasps. He comes, and he feels like he's falling. He doesn't care about where they are or the mess between them, only that he can hold Yukimura for a few more minutes before he has to go and has to leave Yukimura here, alone.
"Stay here a little longer," Yukimura says to him, closing his eyes for a moment. He nods, and spares a glance at the clock. For as long as it had seemed at the time, he feels a moment of surprise to learn that only forty minutes have passed. Another fifty remain, and he wants to spend them like this.
"You're going to be sore tomorrow," Yukimura comments after ten minutes of silence and sporadic kisses. He shrugs, not really caring.
"I won't be playing." He has no doubt that his team will sweep Seigaku, and he's in singles one. Yukimura laughs.
"Of course." Genichirou entwines their fingers, pressing their hands against Yukimura's chest.
"I promised you." He has no intention of not following through. He closes his eyes, then, and they rest in silence, trying not to think of tomorrow, but after, everything after.