Happy Santa_Smex, Everyone!
To: Everyone!
From: solanum_d
Title: Practice Makes Possession
Recipient's name: Everyone!
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Sakaki/Ohtori
Warnings: m/m, general smuttiness, manipulation, abuse of authority, molestation, dirty old man perversion, may/december
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Konomi Takeshi. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Well, this has been quite the adventure. Enjoy, santa_smex! May it bring you much holiday cheer. More gratitude than I can express to J and K for listening to me whine and giving me their boundless support.
Practice Makes Possession
When the practice room door clicked shut, the time was theirs. For that time - an all too brief hour and a half three afternoons a week - Ohtori Choutaro was his. Sakaki Tarou sat as he always did - legs crossed, arms folded, face set into a careful expression of impassivity that said nothing about the way he watched his student enter the room. It was an expression he used court-side with ease, but desperately needed during these violin lessons.
His eyes watched as Ohtori-kun unpacked his violin; they missed nothing. Long fingers lifted the bow from the case and tightened the hairs - they seemed almost delicate, though he knew better. He'd seen them grip a racket and deliver the much feared Scud Serve. That was part of what made Ohtori-kun so beautiful - the appearance and the reality. Those fingers continued their tending of the bow, swiping rosin along the hairs... not swiping so much as stroking. There really was something sweet and loving about the way Ohtori-kun handled his instrument. Sakaki leaned back a little bit in his chair and began his fight to keep his expression neutral.
The bow was set aside on the music stand, and Ohtori-kun reached for his violin, curving his long graceful neck to tuck it under his chin. He plucked the strings and made a face, nose wrinkling up in displeasure. Then he set to the careful process of plucking, listening, and turning the tiny knobs below the bridge at the base of the strings or in very bad cases the large black knobs at the head of his violin. His face was concentrated. It was an expression that Sakaki loved because he rarely saw it here in the music room - the juxtaposition of Ohtori-kun's different lives. Sakaki's eyes wandered while Ohtori-kun tuned his violin. There was something truly beautiful about adolescence, being on the cusp of manhood but not quite there yet. The way Ohtori-kun's white uniform shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders but hung loose down his long back to his narrow hips; something in the way too long limbs that hadn't yet lost their awkwardness, but were all the more attractive for it. Sakaki discretely loosened his cravat and let out a lengthy exhale.
Ohtori-kun, finally satisfied with the sound of his G string, turned to his instructor, all wide brown eyes - eager to please. "The cooler weather is, of course, making it much more difficult to keep the strings in tune. Sorry about the wait, sensei." Kantoku on the courts, but sensei in the classroom. Call him cliché, but Sakaki always had a preference for the subtle flow of sensei over the harsh syllables of kantoku.
Sakaki nodded. It was a nod that said, "I didn't mind the wait." A nod that said, "Feel free to continue." The nod said nothing about how Sakaki's breathing was becoming more irregular as he watched his student carefully prepare to play for him. Ohtori-kun bent to retrieve his sheet music, and his shirt rose to reveal the thinnest strip of very pale skin. Sakaki had to bite his tongue. He knew that skin would hold the last traces of youth, a softness that hadn't yet been roughened by aging. He imagined how delicious that silky skin would feel under his hands, while his thumb slid back and forth across the fabric of his sleeve, its imported silk a poor substitute.
"Shall I start with the Saint-Saëns?" It was a question Ohtori-kun always asked, but one that Sakaki rather enjoyed. He liked the tradition and comfort of it. He liked that Ohtori-kun bothered to ask him which piece should begin the session. He liked that the piece in question never changed because he strongly suspected that it was Ohtori-kun's favorite. He liked most of all watching Ohtori-kun's obvious enjoyment while playing it.
As was his habit, he merely nodded. A nod gave him control; it was impersonal; it offered little by way of encouragement; it helped him maintain distance from his student. It also hid the fact that his voice was tight in his throat as he watched Ohtori-kun play.
The ability to breathe always eluded Sakaki as Ohtori-kun first put bow to string, in that first sweet note as brown eyes slid shut and Ohtori-kun's face relaxed into something very much like ecstasy. He didn't bother trying to breathe; it was somehow better to watch with a burn in his chest. Some people closed their eyes when they listened to a musician play. Sakaki knew that they were wasting the opportunity to see that musician in a very intimate way; layers stripped away with every note that Ohtori-kun played. He became bare to Sakaki, vulnerable; a nakedness perceived rather than seen. It wasn't something to be shut out for the sake of hearing the music; it, in fact, only enhanced the swell of notes in the sonata. No words could describe the grace of movement Sakaki saw in his student when he played; effortless bow strokes; fingers pressing and gliding over the strings, caressing them with every wavering vibrato; instrument tucked carefully between chin and shoulder; lean body swaying gently with the rise and fall of each phrase. It was art - physical, aural, visual.
And it was totally innocent. Ohtori-kun made beautiful music. That was his goal. The simplicity of purpose and the beauty of the movement only heightened Sakaki's enjoyment... so much that he had to shift to recross his legs and make himself more comfortable.
This was his Ohtori Choutaro, his and his alone. No one else would see Ohtori like this and understand each exquisite wrist movement or finger placement. No one else would see how every breath was in time with the piece. No one.
Sakaki hated the tinny, cheap sound of cellphone ring tones. He had never hated them so much as when one interrupted his afternoon session. Worse still, his student stopped playing to answer the untimely call... not call, he realized as Ohtori-kun pulled the phone out of his back pack to check the screen, a text message. The lowest means of communication. Sakaki was all for the advancement of technology, but not at the detriment of social interaction. Perhaps he was old-fashioned, but email and text always seemed too impersonal a way to make plans or thank someone in his esteemed opinion. Perhaps Ohtori-kun's mother had some urgent bit of information she needed to share with her son - an errand or appointment. But no, he watched his student's lips form very distinct syllables, "Shishido-san," though he gave them no voice. Sakaki felt his jaw tighten. That presumptuous third-year. He never should have allowed him back onto the regulars. If it hadn't been for Ohtori-kun's earnest plea and Atobe-kun's support, he would have completely ignored Shishido's histrionics. He didn't have time for that kind of drama after a failure so acute as his had been. Now, Shishido encroached upon his time with Ohtori-kun. Eager fingers tapped out a quick reply before the cell was stashed safely back in the bag, and Ohtori-kun turned to face his teacher properly. "My deepest apologies for the interruption, Sakaki-sensei."
The formality of the apology did nothing to assuage Sakaki's irritation, though the sincere chagrin on his student's face once again endeared Ohtori-kun to him. Tightness in his voice was not a problem now, as it would properly convey his dissatisfaction. "Perhaps you should turn your phone off next time."
"Yes, sensei." Ohtori-kun was very nearly fidgeting. It almost made Sakaki forget he'd been angry in the first place. Almost.
"Continue." His student nodded and turned back to his sheet music. Brown eyes scanned the page until they found the spot where he'd stopped playing. He lifted his violin and bow, took a deep breath, and let himself slowly get lost in the piece again.
Watching Ohtori-kun give himself so fully to the music wrought a new surge of anger in Sakaki. That presumptuous third-year took too many liberties... assumed too much.
Sakaki was a controlled man; he prided himself on his discipline of emotion. He was also a possessive man, and sometimes, that side got the better of him. He uncrossed his legs and stood smoothly, shoes silent as he crossed the carpet.
The room provided quite a bit of privacy with its soundproof walls and single tiny frosted window in the door.
Ohtori-kun's eyes were closed and his back was to his teacher, and as was his habit, he was completely absorbed in the music he was playing. Sakaki knew he'd never notice his teacher standing behind him, close enough to feel his body warmth. He took a deep breath, breathing in the fresh smell of his student, clean with soap and laundry detergent but neither of them masking the sweet scent of youth and eagerness. Sakaki knew he should stop here, walk away, and let nothing else happen. But he felt a jealousy that rooted him to the spot, remembering the way Ohtori-kun had smiled when he'd seen that the message was from Shishido. That smile should've been his when he'd nodded his approval at the end of this piece. That smile was taken from him. And he would take Ohtori-kun back.
He reached out with a single finger and traced down the outline of Ohtori-kun's spine along the back of his neck, down to the collar of his shirt. His student stilled, the music stopped. He slid his finger around to the front of Ohtori-kun's neck, under his jaw, and felt the rapid beats of his pulse.
"Sensei?" The question in the voice was nervous, unsure what was happening, unsure how to react.
Yes. Sakaki would take Ohtori-kun from Shishido, but he would take him slowly. "Keep playing," his voice was pitched low, tone coaxing. He waited until Ohtori-kun returned the bow to the string, waited until the proper rhythm of playing returned. Then he let his fingers slide down from resting against Ohtori-kun's throat, down along and just inside the opening of his shirt, down to the first fastened button, which he fingered lightly. He could feel Ohtori-kun shaking as he tried to continue to play - a waver of the notes that had nothing to do with vibrato. He swelled uncomfortably against the confines of his underwear - what Ohtori-kun unknowingly did to him! He stepped back a bit to take in the full sight of his student playing; the posture was slightly different now; an awareness, a tension tightening his muscles. Sakaki laid a hand on each shoulder and pressed gently, reassuringly. Gradually, he felt the tension creep out of his student's muscles, felt him once again relax into the playing. Then and only then did Sakaki allow his hands to drift down from shoulders to shoulder blades, sharp through the thin cotton of the uniform shirt; down the lean muscles of his student's back, feeling them twitch and flex under his fingers; down to the tight curve of Ohtori-kun's bottom, high and firm in a way that only youth can provide. His student jumped, nearly out of his touch, which he'd more or less expected. He very nearly dropped his precious violin; not a Stradivarius - that was promised to him when he pursued a career in musical performance by his very doting parents - but a lovely specimen nonetheless. "S-sensei! What are you-"
"Did I tell you to stop playing?" The question teased, much like his fingers did as they squeezed and plucked at Ohtori-kun's delicious ass through his slacks.
"I couldn't p-possibly keep p-playing," Ohtori-kun tried valiantly to keep his voice steady through the shocked stuttering. It only made Sakaki want him more. But a little assurance was needed...
"I disagree," and he stepped up behind his student, right up behind, close enough to press his very painfully hard erection against the seam of Ohtori-kun's pants, between the pert cheeks of his ass. As much as he heard, he felt Ohtori-kun's sharp inhalation. The moment of understanding hung poignantly in the air and Sakaki took a deep breath of it, waiting for the final protest.
"But... I can't... you can't..." his dear student had little voice left to protest.
"Hush now," he laid gentle fingers over Ohtori-kun's lips and slid his other arm around the narrow waist, down over the belt, to cover - yes, there it was - the bulge growing rapidly in the front of Ohtori-kun's pants. "Perhaps I'm speaking of play of a very different kind."
The protests died in the softest, most embarrassed of moans. Sakaki had to close his eyes briefly - the moment of assent was so very sweet. His cock was throbbing as he pressed himself more firmly against Ohtori-kun, and Sakaki felt a shudder go through his student. Ohtori-kun's lips parted beneath his fingers, softly panting breaths moistening them. Never had he had such a promising student.
Briefly, his hand detoured up, just under the crisp white shirt and along the pale skin of Ohtori-kun's abdomen. It was as smooth as he knew it would be. He sighed deeply, pressing his nose into Ohtori-kun's feathery hair, letting his fingers skitter across that soft skin, enjoying the way tiny whimpers snuck between Ohtori-kun's rapid breaths. "The room is soundproof, Ohtori-kun. You don't have to be so quiet." He could see enough of his student's profile to watch as pale cheeks, rosy with arousal, flushed a much darker pink. So sweet and shy - he'd be a beautiful flower to watch slowly unfold, but it would take time and patience. Perhaps he was teasing a bit too much. The young were very impatient, afterall, and there'd be plenty of time to linger over Ohtori-kun's beautiful skin in the future. A bit of pity, then. He returned his hand to the pants, but not to cup the bulge, so prominent now against the fabric. With deft fingers the belt was unfastened, quickly followed by the button and zip front of the slacks. They fell open naturally with the weight of the belt to reveal white briefs - Sakaki had been hoping for briefs. He smiled into Ohtori-kun's collar, hard with the knowledge that his very precious student had no idea how arousing his very modest undergarments were. Sakaki did take his time peeling back the elastic waistband of the underpants, reveling in the hiccoughed breaths Ohtori-kun took.
There it was, Ohtori-kun's lovely red cock - hard, lilting a little to the side, leaking clear fluid that Sakaki wanted to lick from the tip and where it dripped down the side, but that was for another day. No need to rush here. Slowly, watching the way Ohtori-kun couldn't help watching - heavy-lidded brown eyes fixed on his hand - watching the way Ohtori-kun's hand still gripped the neck of his violin tightly in his fingers - there'd surely be marks from the strings that would be difficult to explain, Sakaki wrapped his hand around his student's erection and held through the gasp and buck to wait for the calm after. He could tell that no one had touched Ohtori-kun like this, that this would be his student's first taste of pleasure at the hand of another. It made his balls tighten. He couldn't help a quick thrust against that tight ass. It was so nice and firm, and he could easily imagine how delicious it would be to press into it and hear Ohtori-kun's guilty pleas for more. One more quick thrust - a promise to himself for later. A shuddering breath and he was back in control, squeezing lightly at the base of his student's cock.
"Sensei... Sakaki-sensei..."
So soft. Hearing his name barely whispered in that pleading tone very nearly unraveled Sakaki, but he knew that this was a present best unwrapped slowly, then Ohtori-kun would truly be his. He'd ruin him for any other person, especially an inexperienced boy. Yes, he'd enjoy every bit that Ohtori-kun had to offer and he'd ensure that Ohtori-kun would offer it all.
Up and down, he moved his hand, fingers tightening with the motion. He watched Ohtori-kun's eyes slide shut, the way his face tightened and relaxed. He watched Ohtori-kun give himself over to the moment, the ecstasy - so very like when he played his violin, yet so very different. Still there was an innocence in each inadvertent buck of Ohtori-kun's hips. Up and down again. He let Ohtori-kun move freely, pushing himself into his hand then back against his erection - the sweetest torture. He slowed his strokes when Ohtori-kun became too eager, drawing out the pleasure because it was so enjoyable to watch his student's mouth open on a protest only to moan softly when the pace increased again. He knew Ohtori-kun couldn't last much longer - his bow had long since clattered to the floor, forgotten, but he still gripped that violin so very tightly, as if it were the only thing holding him up. Sakaki held his breath as he felt Ohtori-kun's body tighten unmistakably. A choked breath and a grunt. Warm and sticky, semen dripped down onto his hand, and Ohtori jerked and shuddered against his body. Sakaki ached where his erection throbbed against his underwear, the sweetest ache yet to be fulfilled - another promise to himself. Gently, he guided Ohtori-kun to sit in the available chair. Pulling the pocket square from the front of his jacket - a handkerchief handy for just such an occasion - he wiped first his hand, then Ohtori-kun's front, neatening him up as best as possible. He even refastened the slacks and belt, and the white shirt covered what little mess remained.
Sakaki straightened and tucked the handkerchief into an inside jacket pocket to be washed. He offered Ohtori-kun an affectionate smile, not faked in the least as he was very fond of his student. "I believe that will be all for today, Ohtori-kun." Wide eyes turned to him then, searching for reassurance. It was the trust that only the young possessed; it made Sakaki want to stay longer, but he knew that would be overplaying his hand. "I look forward to our next session," his tone left little question as to the nature of that session. Ohtori-kun looked down at his lap, embarrassed, yet his cheeks colored prettily and his quick, "Yes, sensei," left little doubt that he was quite eager, despite self-consciousness. He didn't dally over any more words, everything that needed to be said had been. He left Ohtori-kun then, opening the door to the hall and letting go of his student for the time being. Sakaki left, secure in the knowledge that he'd have him again. The day after tomorrow, Ohtori-kun would be his again. With patience, Ohtori-kun would just be his.