The Obtrusiveness Of Incisors [NC-17; Atobe/Sanada]
Title: The Obtrusiveness Of Incisors
Author: worblehat
Genre: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Atobe/Sanada
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Konomi's, not mine.
Notes: Done for the AWDT. The prompt was "breaking the habit." Beta'd by regulusa.
Summary: Sanada wants Atobe to quit doing that.
Word Count: 1,498
Sanada walked into the room, slamming the door behind him. He dropped his tennis bag on the floor with less care than he normally did and walked towards the figure sitting at the desk.
"You told me it wasn't visible."
"Hm?" asked Atobe. Sanada watched his face carefully, but couldn't see any trace of trickery. He sat down on the bed, facing Atobe. "What are you talking about?"
"Two different people asked if I had a girlfriend today," said Sanada, his eyes level with Atobe's. "Kirihara even tried to follow me after practice just now."
Nothing more than a blank stare greeted him from the light eyes framed in silver-fine hair.
He sighed and pulled back the collar of his shirt. At the base of his neck, dark, thin and circular bruises were visible. He watched Atobe's face carefully: it lit up, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
"Na, Sanada," said Atobe, bringing one hand up to his brush the hair away from his face, his legs crossing in ease. "They thought a girl did that to you?" He chuckled.
Sanada let go of his shirt. His hands rested lazily in his lap. "We said we were going to be more careful."
"I?" asked Atobe. "I said that?"
"We agreed -"
Atobe uncrossed his legs and rose from his chair. He closed the distance between himself and Sanada in two easy steps.
...then sank to his knees. Sanada's eyes widened - Atobe usually complained about being anywhere near the floor. Atobe pulled back his shirt once more, using his other hand to trace careful fingers across the bruised, tender skin. He looked into Sanada's eyes. "I think it looks good on you."
Sanada felt the warmth rise in his cheeks as Atobe kept staring. "That's not the point," he said, irritated.
Atobe lowered his eyes as he drew closer, placing lips to skin, kissing small, wet kisses on the parts he'd marked. He kissed higher, taking his time, each kiss warm, pressed to the spots he was coming to know quite well on Sanada's body. His lips breathed hotly against Sanada's cheek, then his ear. "What's the point then? Please explain it to me."
"No."
Atobe stopped momentarily. He moved back. And smiled. "Why not?"
"Because you're not listening," said Sanada. He realised his hands had been firmly at his knees, squeezing tightly. He relaxed his fingers. "You're too busy licking and...all that other stuff."
Atobe's hand grazed Sanada's cheek softly. "You don't like it when I lick you?"
"That's not the point," said Sanada gruffly, looking away.
Atobe stood up. Sanada bowed his head, looking at the floor.
Hands - strong and insistent - pushed at his shoulders, causing him to fall back on the rather luxuriously-decorated bed. Atobe pinned him down as he straddled him, determination in his face.
His lips were inches from Sanada's when he spoke again. "Here's the point, Sanada," he said smoothly, his hands pulling at Sanada's Rikkai jersey, exposing the dark skin beneath. He kept pulling until the jersey was over Sanada's head; until Sanada's hat fell to the floor, along with the top half of his uniform. Atobe ran his fingers along the bitten, bruised part of Sanada's chest and neck. He bent forward, kissing Sanada gently, swirling his tongue inside the warm mouth before biting hard into Sanada's lower lip, enjoying the slight, sharp cry of surprise and pain.
"The point is I like you like this," whispered Atobe, his cheek pressed against Sanada's.
Words froze on Sanada's tongue as Atobe kissed his way down Sanada's chest, biting, marking the canvas of skin faintly, so that most of it would be gone by morning. He didn't touch the already-bruised section of Sanada's neck. Instead, he ran one hand down the top of Sanada's tennis shorts, stroking the erection he found there.
Sanada moaned.
He felt Atobe's breath of triumph as his shorts were shoved lower, Atobe still kissing him, marking the spot at his hip with bites that made Sanada's whole body shake. He moaned louder, vaguely wondering if they'd locked the door before Atobe's mouth was all around him, sliding up and down his cock, and all other thoughts vanished temporarily. He reached down, threading his hands through the twice-conditioned hair, enjoying the softness (though he'd never tell Atobe that - he was full enough of himself as it was).
Gaining a good grip, he pulled harder, forcing himself further into Atobe's mouth. He listened for the soft rustle of fabric; looked down when he saw Atobe's hand, wrapped around his length, stroking as his tongue slipped around Sanada's cock. Sanada kept quiet, enjoying the sound of Atobe's body in the stillness of the room.
Keeping his eyes firmly trained on Atobe, Sanada thrust, the hot-solid feel coursing down his spine just before he came, grunting, spilling himself into Atobe's mouth; Atobe's name falling from his lips as Atobe swallowed, letting Sanada push into his mouth again and again, feeling the last of his climax.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Atobe, looking down at him, a combination of softness and lust making his eyes look more awake, more alive. Sanada slid his hands down Atobe's sides, stopping when he met Atobe's hips, He pulled, gently, enjoying the touch of skin where Atobe's shirt rode up, at his midsection. He ran his fingers back and forth, rolling Atobe over onto his back. Atobe sat up and reached for a pillow, placing it under his head. Sanada tried not to grin.
He worked the buttons Atobe's shirt open with ease. He slid his palm against the pale chest, liking the feel of it. He liked touching Atobe, though he could never remember if he actually said so aloud; he knew he liked Atobe touching him, which was conveyed well enough through moans and other noises that seemed to make Atobe's eyes close, half-lidded in appreciative lust. But sometimes, Sanada just liked feeling Atobe's skin under his fingertips; knowing he was close.
He looked at Atobe, who looked back.
Atobe's hand covered his, pulling him close. Sanada let himself be kissed, enjoying the surprising sweetness Atobe sometimes employed. He shoved his hand lower, fingers finding the hard length and slipping against the waiting skin, back and forth. Atobe kissed him harder, biting again. Sanada winced - Atobe had drawn blood again. At first, he'd been scared and thought it had been a mistake, but when it had happened a second and third time, he became less afraid and more intrigued. He started looking forward to Atobe's harder kisses, ones that stayed with him, where he could run his tongue along the injured spots and think back...
Sanada was on his back again. Atobe's shorts were all the way off; he guided Sanada's hand back to his cock, closing his eyes when the rough hands resumed stroking. He pushed down, thrusting into the touch, teeth latching into Sanada's uncovered chest. Sanada closed his eyes when he felt Atobe come, thick streams of white pressed between their bodies, warm and wet. Atobe's breathing tightened, low moans falling heavily against Sanada's ears.
He felt himself get half-hard again.
Atobe slid higher, kissing Sanada's cheek, Sanada's jaw, Sanada's lips. "Girlfriend...che," he said disgustedly.
Sanada looked over at him. Atobe was smiling at him, pushing back his hair with tired strokes. "You wanted someone to notice." It wasn't a question.
Atobe's eyes glimmered, but he did not respond.
"And you're not going to stop being so obvious," continued Sanada in the same vein, though he couldn't tell any longer if he was talking to Atobe or to himself.
"You wouldn't want me to," said Atobe simply.
"You don't know what I want."
Perhaps he'd spoken too coldly - he had a habit of that. He didn't understand Atobe's look. Slowly, he rolled closer, kissing Atobe lightly, offering his lips; running his tongue against Atobe's when he didn't respond and biting teasingly into the unmarred pink mouth. Atobe smiled against his lips and flashed his teeth, biting - tasting the bitter-acid of injury.
Sanada exhaled.
"You want me," said Atobe.
Sanada rolled his eyes, an amused smirk on his normally stern lips. He looked at Atobe.
"Whatever. Just stop biting me."
"I'll consider it," said Atobe in a tone that said he wasn't going to consider it at all.
Sanada closed his eyes, feeling the thin fingers splayed across his stomach in a claiming gesture, one of those surprisingly soft kisses at his temple.
He smiled.
Author: worblehat
Genre: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Atobe/Sanada
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Konomi's, not mine.
Notes: Done for the AWDT. The prompt was "breaking the habit." Beta'd by regulusa.
Summary: Sanada wants Atobe to quit doing that.
Word Count: 1,498
Sanada walked into the room, slamming the door behind him. He dropped his tennis bag on the floor with less care than he normally did and walked towards the figure sitting at the desk.
"You told me it wasn't visible."
"Hm?" asked Atobe. Sanada watched his face carefully, but couldn't see any trace of trickery. He sat down on the bed, facing Atobe. "What are you talking about?"
"Two different people asked if I had a girlfriend today," said Sanada, his eyes level with Atobe's. "Kirihara even tried to follow me after practice just now."
Nothing more than a blank stare greeted him from the light eyes framed in silver-fine hair.
He sighed and pulled back the collar of his shirt. At the base of his neck, dark, thin and circular bruises were visible. He watched Atobe's face carefully: it lit up, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
"Na, Sanada," said Atobe, bringing one hand up to his brush the hair away from his face, his legs crossing in ease. "They thought a girl did that to you?" He chuckled.
Sanada let go of his shirt. His hands rested lazily in his lap. "We said we were going to be more careful."
"I?" asked Atobe. "I said that?"
"We agreed -"
Atobe uncrossed his legs and rose from his chair. He closed the distance between himself and Sanada in two easy steps.
...then sank to his knees. Sanada's eyes widened - Atobe usually complained about being anywhere near the floor. Atobe pulled back his shirt once more, using his other hand to trace careful fingers across the bruised, tender skin. He looked into Sanada's eyes. "I think it looks good on you."
Sanada felt the warmth rise in his cheeks as Atobe kept staring. "That's not the point," he said, irritated.
Atobe lowered his eyes as he drew closer, placing lips to skin, kissing small, wet kisses on the parts he'd marked. He kissed higher, taking his time, each kiss warm, pressed to the spots he was coming to know quite well on Sanada's body. His lips breathed hotly against Sanada's cheek, then his ear. "What's the point then? Please explain it to me."
"No."
Atobe stopped momentarily. He moved back. And smiled. "Why not?"
"Because you're not listening," said Sanada. He realised his hands had been firmly at his knees, squeezing tightly. He relaxed his fingers. "You're too busy licking and...all that other stuff."
Atobe's hand grazed Sanada's cheek softly. "You don't like it when I lick you?"
"That's not the point," said Sanada gruffly, looking away.
Atobe stood up. Sanada bowed his head, looking at the floor.
Hands - strong and insistent - pushed at his shoulders, causing him to fall back on the rather luxuriously-decorated bed. Atobe pinned him down as he straddled him, determination in his face.
His lips were inches from Sanada's when he spoke again. "Here's the point, Sanada," he said smoothly, his hands pulling at Sanada's Rikkai jersey, exposing the dark skin beneath. He kept pulling until the jersey was over Sanada's head; until Sanada's hat fell to the floor, along with the top half of his uniform. Atobe ran his fingers along the bitten, bruised part of Sanada's chest and neck. He bent forward, kissing Sanada gently, swirling his tongue inside the warm mouth before biting hard into Sanada's lower lip, enjoying the slight, sharp cry of surprise and pain.
"The point is I like you like this," whispered Atobe, his cheek pressed against Sanada's.
Words froze on Sanada's tongue as Atobe kissed his way down Sanada's chest, biting, marking the canvas of skin faintly, so that most of it would be gone by morning. He didn't touch the already-bruised section of Sanada's neck. Instead, he ran one hand down the top of Sanada's tennis shorts, stroking the erection he found there.
Sanada moaned.
He felt Atobe's breath of triumph as his shorts were shoved lower, Atobe still kissing him, marking the spot at his hip with bites that made Sanada's whole body shake. He moaned louder, vaguely wondering if they'd locked the door before Atobe's mouth was all around him, sliding up and down his cock, and all other thoughts vanished temporarily. He reached down, threading his hands through the twice-conditioned hair, enjoying the softness (though he'd never tell Atobe that - he was full enough of himself as it was).
Gaining a good grip, he pulled harder, forcing himself further into Atobe's mouth. He listened for the soft rustle of fabric; looked down when he saw Atobe's hand, wrapped around his length, stroking as his tongue slipped around Sanada's cock. Sanada kept quiet, enjoying the sound of Atobe's body in the stillness of the room.
Keeping his eyes firmly trained on Atobe, Sanada thrust, the hot-solid feel coursing down his spine just before he came, grunting, spilling himself into Atobe's mouth; Atobe's name falling from his lips as Atobe swallowed, letting Sanada push into his mouth again and again, feeling the last of his climax.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Atobe, looking down at him, a combination of softness and lust making his eyes look more awake, more alive. Sanada slid his hands down Atobe's sides, stopping when he met Atobe's hips, He pulled, gently, enjoying the touch of skin where Atobe's shirt rode up, at his midsection. He ran his fingers back and forth, rolling Atobe over onto his back. Atobe sat up and reached for a pillow, placing it under his head. Sanada tried not to grin.
He worked the buttons Atobe's shirt open with ease. He slid his palm against the pale chest, liking the feel of it. He liked touching Atobe, though he could never remember if he actually said so aloud; he knew he liked Atobe touching him, which was conveyed well enough through moans and other noises that seemed to make Atobe's eyes close, half-lidded in appreciative lust. But sometimes, Sanada just liked feeling Atobe's skin under his fingertips; knowing he was close.
He looked at Atobe, who looked back.
Atobe's hand covered his, pulling him close. Sanada let himself be kissed, enjoying the surprising sweetness Atobe sometimes employed. He shoved his hand lower, fingers finding the hard length and slipping against the waiting skin, back and forth. Atobe kissed him harder, biting again. Sanada winced - Atobe had drawn blood again. At first, he'd been scared and thought it had been a mistake, but when it had happened a second and third time, he became less afraid and more intrigued. He started looking forward to Atobe's harder kisses, ones that stayed with him, where he could run his tongue along the injured spots and think back...
Sanada was on his back again. Atobe's shorts were all the way off; he guided Sanada's hand back to his cock, closing his eyes when the rough hands resumed stroking. He pushed down, thrusting into the touch, teeth latching into Sanada's uncovered chest. Sanada closed his eyes when he felt Atobe come, thick streams of white pressed between their bodies, warm and wet. Atobe's breathing tightened, low moans falling heavily against Sanada's ears.
He felt himself get half-hard again.
Atobe slid higher, kissing Sanada's cheek, Sanada's jaw, Sanada's lips. "Girlfriend...che," he said disgustedly.
Sanada looked over at him. Atobe was smiling at him, pushing back his hair with tired strokes. "You wanted someone to notice." It wasn't a question.
Atobe's eyes glimmered, but he did not respond.
"And you're not going to stop being so obvious," continued Sanada in the same vein, though he couldn't tell any longer if he was talking to Atobe or to himself.
"You wouldn't want me to," said Atobe simply.
"You don't know what I want."
Perhaps he'd spoken too coldly - he had a habit of that. He didn't understand Atobe's look. Slowly, he rolled closer, kissing Atobe lightly, offering his lips; running his tongue against Atobe's when he didn't respond and biting teasingly into the unmarred pink mouth. Atobe smiled against his lips and flashed his teeth, biting - tasting the bitter-acid of injury.
Sanada exhaled.
"You want me," said Atobe.
Sanada rolled his eyes, an amused smirk on his normally stern lips. He looked at Atobe.
"Whatever. Just stop biting me."
"I'll consider it," said Atobe in a tone that said he wasn't going to consider it at all.
Sanada closed his eyes, feeling the thin fingers splayed across his stomach in a claiming gesture, one of those surprisingly soft kisses at his temple.
He smiled.