Happy Santa_Smex, regulusa!
To: regulusa
From:flosspyromaniac
Title: Razed
Recipient's name: regulusa
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Tezuka/Ryoma, one-sided Atobe/Tezuka
Warnings: Uh... Sex obviously. Voyeurism, Role play and light bondage. Probable OOC.
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.
Summary: Christmas time is the chance to see everything change. To remember the past and to move forward. With lots and lots of sex.
Author's Notes: Huge enormous thanks to my super sekrit beta who shall only be know as ‘mindlint’ and to Willow. You guys are incredible. Okay, so probably utterly not what you wanted but hey, I tried. There is as much of what you asked for worked into here as I could manage with my admittedly mediocre skills. I hope you all enjoy it anyway. Happy holidays everyone!
They walk down the street together, muffled in scarves, fighting against the snow. They walk together and it is subtle. They are clever, discreet. The women who walk past them see nothing but two young men walking together. Nothing but friends, one small in stature, feline and smug and the other tall, stern and breathtakingly handsome. They smile as they pass, hoping to catch the eye of one or the other. They do not understand their polite brush-off even as they moved on. They cannot see it.
But then again, women have always succeeded in being persistently blind to such things, so perhaps they are not so subtle after all.
They do not see me through the wildly swirling snow. The cold of the air is bitter, biting and it hurts to stand and watch them walk.
Perhaps that is not only the snow.
The careful attention he pays as they walk, the softer expression on his face, how can they not know?
An eternally stoic, unsmiling face that cracks and crumbles at the sight of the other.
They do not notice the cold as they walk and it pushes down more heavily on me because of it. Nature’s balance of course. My fingers twitch in an effort to warm up and it is time to go.
I take one last look out at them as they walk on unhurried, with no concerns bar their own, encased in their world, warm in each other’s presence.
I wonder again that nobody can see it and shiver one last time before leaving the cover of this shop for the limousine to take me home. But then again, would I have truly known, acknowledged it as I was forced to, if I had not seen for myself? I watched him so carefully for years, studied his every move, tried to understand his wants and desires even as he seemed to have none and deluded myself with a fantasy of returned feelings and finding some way to gain the thing I wanted most.
Reality has a way of shattering all illusions in time.
It felt just the same the second time, the faces the same as they stood on the courts. The great and the talented only grow better if they are given the chance after all. We were the best, a shining new future, and we all knew it. We stood, tall and proud and aimed for glory.
It felt just the same as it had three years before.
Somehow I went there expecting that connection to still be there, the burning desire ever brighter since I almost doused his flame.
This time I wanted to feel him blaze. I wanted to take that fire for my own.
To be blunt, I wanted him.
We met in the semi-finals, one to go forth to face Rikkaidai and the final challenge.
We left the doubles at 2-0 to us, and I knew it would not last. This would come to him and me. It felt fated.
They took a break after the doubles, an hour for the teams to collect themselves. I saw him walk away towards the changing rooms and he seemed to call me. I followed him. Of course I did. I’m not sure what I wanted or what I expected when I went after him.
I do know that I never saw the other slip away.
I waked in slowly, as had become my habit when going to speak to him, always hoping to crack that bland, blank expression from his face.
Other than in pain, I don’t believe I ever managed to crack that façade.
I had seen the two together before, stood watching a match, silent together. I had never seen them together outside of tennis and I had been too blind, too obsessed with having what I wanted to see the nuances of their communication. I had not wanted to see, so I had not.
At this point, I had no choice.
I had paced in quietly and turned the corner to the area with benches and lockers.
The sight of the two together, I cannot truthfully say it broke my heart, but then again why not? Others have claimed as much after less than I had felt. I wanted him badly and in that moment, I knew I could not have him.
I stood and stared across at them. I wanted to move. I wanted to run away and break. I could feel myself being torn apart, paper dolls. Still I stood there. Transfixed. How could I not be? He was beautiful and even as I suffer to say it, they were beautiful.
There are few times in a person’s life - none if you are lucky - when you see something you shouldn’t, something like this. I stood, an intruder in a private world and I even as I burned with shame to watch it poured through my bones. This was something between two people who knew each other as only lovers did, as people practiced in each other.
It was the most desperate experience of my life. Every movement they made pushed me a little further over into nothingness. There was no way I could turn away; they compelled everything around them. I could only beg any deity that still listened to me that I would not be seen.
I had never player the role of voyeur before, never understood the attraction. How could it be better to see and not to do? This was…different. Even as I wanted to be the one I would not take his place. There was something that went beyond beauty in them that day. It sickened me. I knew then that I would never have that, never feel it. The burning gaze would have reduced me to carbon made him glow. They shone.
I can’t say I was surprised at their roles. He’s small, light. He begs to be taken. I still think that. Yet there was something that told me he was the one in control. Every movement they made he orchestrated into perfect synchronization. I had never believed that spin until that day as I watched him bend his lover to his will.
They were pressed back against the wall by the lockers with clothes scattered over the nearby benches. I always though he would be one to take the time to fold them. I was wrong, as before, as always. Was he truly enough to pull away all that tight control? To push him beyond himself in a way I never could? He was raised up in position between him and the wall, legs encircling his lover’s body. I glad his eyes were shut then. I could not bear to see cat’s eyes looking at my…at him. I stood one step away from dust.
I watched as he threw his head back, almost striking the wall. His neck, longer than I remembered, bared and open. I watched as he reached forward and ran his kiss along it. I saw him bite down on his lip, struggling for quiet. His face burns through my mind still.
As is my response.
If I had not felt ashamed at seeing what I was, my reaction would have pushed me to utter humiliation. To my horror and immense disgrace I grew hard as I watched.
He moved so firmly, swiftly, with an economy of movement I had come to expect, his cock pressing forward smoothly. I saw them joined, watched their faces, their expression as they moved closer. He pressed in more, gripping his arse as he sped along, spurred on by that brat’s… his lover’s demands. I watched as they fucked harder, as they were brought together roughly. This was not fucking. Even I knew that. Lovemaking, hard and fast and fumbled in a locker room is still what it is. I watched him press harder, his cock slipping in and out slickly. I ached.
I stepped back a little, still watching and unzipped. I felt near possessed as I stroked once, twice, slow. I picked up speed until I reached their rhythm, my cock as slick with precome as I knew theirs were. We rose together even unknowing as they were and when we crashed it was as one, even if they never knew. I bit down on my lip as I came until I tasted blood. It wasn’t enough. I grabbed a nearby towel, uncaring whether it belonged to someone I knew and rapidly cleaned myself up, feverish with shame even as I watched it end. I saw them sink down onto the bench, still joined and holding onto each other. At the expression in those eyes, the ones that had been hidden from me until that point I cracked. When I saw my… his eyes as they slowly separated and dressed I turned and ran blind, fleeing back to me team, distressed by what I had seen.
Kabaji had no chance of succeeding that day. That small body was a tsunami then, full of grace and power and I watched in something like admiration even as I hated the brat. Later, when I stood and faced him on the court I saw the burn deep within and just then I wondered if I could still have him.
That match debased me of many foolish notions.
He was ethereal that day, burning brighter than ever before, but always carefully ,that you would never know if you couldn’t stand before him and feel it.
I cannot blame my performance on my sense of emotional upheaval. I made him work for it still, certainly but it… it was different. When I had faced him three years earlier that flame was focused, directed solely on to me and we battled, fire and ice.
He went far beyond me that day, beyond almost anything I had seen before as he almost glowed with what he had found. But it was not for me. That day he stood on the court and gave his all against his opponent, but not against me.
The burn I had longed, schemed and hoped for had been left back in that changing room.
My shame over what I had seen, what I had done and the way it had affected me faded then, when it was all over and nothing was left but pain and anger.
I still watch him. I have never quite been able to completely stop and as they walked on towards warmth I fall back into ice.
I slip a little, almost falling as I reach my limousine and the cold continues to seep through my clothes and dance across my skin as I sit and watch them in the mirror. We drive away.
~//************\\~
Tezuka was not sure what exactly it was that he was feeling but the sense of uneasiness was permeating his movements as they walked through the snow. As far as he could tell there was no one around. It was just that feeling that followed him from time to time, that someone was intruding on him and Ryoma. Tezuka ignored it. It didn’t matter. He was probably just feeling a little off tonight because… because Ryoma had demanded a birthday present appropriate to the holiday.
They had never really done anything like this before. Tezuka had never even considered it. They had no need for the games other people played to keep thing interesting. So he had thought anyway. As always though, there was no stopping Ryoma. Tezuka had caved after not too long a protestation. He was unquestionably on edge though.
They finally reached home, Tezuka drawing his keys from a pocket in his coat and watching as Ryoma dropped all his packages in the middle of the hall floor. That smirk was staring back at him, the one that always made Tezuka want to count the change in his pocket, just to check.
Ryoma stalked towards him, cat’s eyes focused entirely on Tezuka.
“I want my present now. I’m done waiting. Change.”
He watched Ryoma pick up one of the bags from the middle of the carpet and disappear into the spare room.
The second bag lays ominously draped over the floor. All Tezuka can see is the look on the shop assistant’s face when Ryoma had asked for what he wanted. His sly measurement of Tezuka. The red glares up at him, garish and terrifying and there is no way Tezuka can see that is going to make this what Ryoma wants. He changes rapidly anyway, tugging on various bits of clothing that cover without truly covering. This is designed for these sorts of games after all; they didn’t want to make them too hard to get off.
He sat down in the armchair that rested in their room and waited. He grew increasingly agitated as the time seemed to press on and Ryoma did not appear. He was seriously considering getting and taking off this stupid costume when the door creaked open and a small child with his lover’s eyes crept in.
“Santa?”
Tezuka wasn’t quite sure what to think. Ryoma was wearing only tiny shorts and a button down shirt, with his hair neatly parted and his eyes at their widest. He was almost interested in spite of himself. He sighed a little inwardly, but the game would continue if Ryoma wished.
“Yes. Here, come sit on my lap.”
Ryoma moved forward slowly, a little shyly, playing his role to the full. He climbed up onto Tezuka’s lap and gives him a smile.
Tezuka could feel shifting around on his lap, in the pretence of finding a more comfortable position. All he could feel is his lover’s arse pressed against his crotch, sliding back and forth. Tezuka swallowed.
“And what do you want for Christmas?”
Ryoma smile wavered on a full-fledged smirk as he felt Tezuka’s interest at his actions. He shifted a little more as he contemplated his answer.
“Uh… a new tennis racket and some balls I think.”
Tezuka had not failed to notice Ryoma’s hand slip down with the word ‘balls’
“Is that all you want?”
“Well… what I’d really like is for someone to fuck me really, really well. Can you do that for me Santa? I want someone to take their time, to run their tongue all over my chest and down my stomach. I want him to take my cock in his mouth and slowly bring me to the edge again and again until I’m begging him for release. I want him to not be able to stand it any more and to prepare me a little rough; two fingers straight away and I’ll gasp as they slide into me. I want him to fill me completely and make me scream his name. I want it to last until neither of us can take it anymore and then go a little further before he comes in me and I come all over both of us. That’s what I want for Christmas Santa.”
Tezuka could no longer think properly. He was straining at the fabric of his pants now, desperate for release, to do everything requested but the smirk etched across Ryoma’s features made him pause a little.
“Have you been a good boy this year Ryoma?”
His lover blinked.
“What?”
“Santa only brings presents to good boys and I think you’ve been very, very bad. So I think you’ll have to be punished first.”
“I…”
Tezuka moved quickly before Ryoma had any time to get up or even truly process what he had just said. He scooped Ryoma into his arms. Crossing then room he lay Ryoma across the bed and took both his hands. He quickly unhooked the suspenders that held up his trousers and wrapped each end around Ryoma’s wrists, fastening them to the bed head. His eyes betrayed the smirk that would not reach his lips.
“You’ve been a bad boy. If you want all that for Christmas you’ll have to play this my way.”
Ryoma’s eyes were wide and at his words and they gleamed with anticipation. Tezuka knew he rarely truly took over like this but right now he needed to take back the control Ryoma had so skillfully removed.
He felt around the shirt Ryoma had bought and found the buttons were simple decoration for a Velcro strip that ran up the centre of his shirt. He ripped it open and swept his eyes over the chest bared before him. The shorts followed quickly, revealing that his lover was naturally not wearing underwear.
“How did this go? Let’s see if I can give you what you wanted.”
Tezuka slowly lowered himself down until he could feel the warmth coming off Ryoma’s skin. He breathed gently across the chest laid out before him and felt Ryoma’s eyes burned into him. He gently ran his tongue up towards the throat bared for him and the corners of his lips twitched as he heard a soft gasp from above him. Tezuka ran his tongue over Ryoma carefully, slowly and always just missing his nipples, teasing him. He could almost feel the moment Ryoma decided to arch up in an attempt to spur him on and pushed down gently with his hand to keep in him in place. This was Tezuka’s show. He continued to tease along the lines of the chest revealed before him, ignoring the needy almost-whines coming for Ryoma’s mouth.
“Buchou. Please.”
Tezuka’s eyes smirked again. The swipe across Ryoma’s nipple was fast and sharp but the gasp he got in return was unquestionably appreciative. He lapped gently, wringing more little breathy sounds before slowly starting to trail down his lover’s stomach. The slight twist of the body underneath him as he drew his tongue leisurely down resulted in a quick nip and a muffled curse from above. Ryoma stilled.
Tezuka was starting to lose control of everything again, lust clouding his mind as he inhaled musk and tang from Ryoma’s cock.
Abandoning his trail across smooth skin Tezuka’s focus shifted to his main objective. A slight flick of the tongue almost too light to feel had Ryoma arching under him again. A wonderful sense of smug satisfaction burst through Tezuka and he bent a little closer and breathed across the head.
“Buchou… please.”
Tezuka could get used to the begging.
He trailed his lips lightly across the head, feeling the skin move against his mouth. Lapping gently at the slit Tezuka wrung more and more out of Ryoma. He could hear the breathing of his lover grow heavier as his lips slipped down to encircle the head and he sucked gently. Feeling the cock in his mouth twitch Tezuka moved off and licked a line up the vein and heard Ryoma try to stifle a moan. Moving back and taking him a little deeper this time Tezuka slid his mouth down little by little, sucking lightly until he felt a pressure along the back of his mouth. He drew off with a slight pop.
“Do you want this? Tell me.”
Ryoma’s eyes were unfocused as they stared back at him.
“Don’t stop.”
“Why?”
“Buchou… I want it. Please.”
“Nn…”
“Kunimitsu, please!”
Tezuka’s eyes met Ryoma’s and he slid back down onto his neglected cock, taking it as far as he could. Ryoma was starting to lose all control now; Tezuka could feel his arms twitching, straining to be let out of the restraints as he sucked harder. He flattened his tongue against the cock in his mouth and heard a moan from above that rumbled all the way down.
“Kunimitsu… you… gods… I… harder… please… oh gods… I’m gonna…”
Tezuka could feel his lover’s erection begin to swell further in his mouth and he drew off rapidly before Ryoma could come. Tezuka had to work hard to stifle the smile at the disappointed whine that drifted down to him. He moved back down to Ryoma’s now dripping cock, chasing droplets down his length as he could feel his lover straining not to buck and to free his hands. He bobbed gently on the head of Ryoma’s cock, careful not to drive him too far. He wasn’t supposed to come yet after all. Sliding his fingers around the base he held tight and increased his suction until Ryoma was quivering under him once more.
Still focused on his task, Tezuka felt around into the bedside cabinet, feeling around for the tube they each kept in a drawer. He pulled back and looked down at Ryoma, flushed and wanting. Quickly slicking two fingers, not forgetting his lover’s request he slid them in cautiously, just the tips and felt Ryoma open under the pressure, slickly sliding them through. Wide golden eyes met his and he curled them upwards, brushing his prostrate and wrenching a scream at last. He moved quickly, staying just the right side of rough and Ryoma arched again under this new onslaught. Tezuka carefully prepared himself, aware that too much sensation would push him over the edge before they were really done.
He slid the head of his cock in, connecting with Ryoma’s eyes as he pushed his knees up towards his chest. Lust-filled cat’s eyes demanded completion and Tezuka sharply slid the rest of the way in, feeling the friction as he slid home. At first he moved slowly, pulling back with long, slow strokes, still holding Ryoma’s cock. He teased with gentle strokes as he refused to pick up the pace.
“Kunimitsu… I’m begging you. I want this. Harder, please harder. ‘Mitsu please…”
Tezuka could no longer control himself; he pushed back in harder, faster and set a pace that he knew they would both be feeling in the morning.
“’Mitsu, please. Wan’ touch you…”
Tezuka could barely focus on anything but the sharp heat of Ryoma as he pushed forward but somehow he fumbled at the ties on his lover’s wrists and finally loosing them, moved back to Ryoma’s now weeping cock. He felt smooth, thin hands slide down his back and they clenched into his arse cheeks, driving him on. He shuddered a little. They were so close, he could feel it. The pace became bruising as he roughly pulled at Ryoma’s cock and they fell together heat and brilliance.
Tezuka withdrew slowly, careful and aware of the fact he had driven Ryoma much harder than usual. Bright golden eyes looked back at him, steady, observing.
“Was that what you wanted?”
“Ch’… mada mada dane.”
Tezuka watched in amusement as Ryoma rolled over to sleep. All in all, there were worse ways to spend Christmas Eve.