Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Kirihara Akaya no Birthday ❯ Chapter 1

Kirihara Akaya no Birthday

A _Price of Tennis_ Fanfiction

By Andrea Readwolf [andrea_readwolf @hotmail.com]

Chapter: 1/1

Rating: PG

Pairings: Kirihara Akaya and.....

Genre: Plot? What Plot?

Warnings: Pointless drabble.

Spoilers: None that I know of

Summary: Someone has come to bring Akaya home

Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama, characters and settings are the property of Konomi Takeshi.

Date Started: September 23, 2004

Status: complete

Word Count: 496

Written for Kirihara's Birthday

In his mind's eye he saw the target clearly. The grind of the machine churned and spat, and Kirihara's body was in motion. The racket sang in his grip. Once. Twice. Thrice.

"Your timing and accuracy is improving," a cool voice announced from behind. Kirihara's eyes snapped open, but he didn't turn around.

"It's late. Practice ended hours ago." When he remained quiet, the other man continued. "You should be at home."

In reply, Kirihara reached over and pressed the button that would start the ball machine again. He took his stance and closed his eyes---but didn't bother to raise his racket. The machine was already powering down. The other man had shut it off.

"Let's go home." A hand touched his shoulder.

He fought not to flinch, but it was a wasted effort.

"Akaya," the other man breathed, stepping up behind him. The hand on his shoulder slid down his arm as another arm wrapped loosely around his middle.

For a moment, Kirihara didn't respond but to remain stiff and still in the would-be-embrace... and then he relaxed back into the strong chest that was waiting to support him. Cool lips pressed against his shoulder. He wanted to tell him not to--that he was drenched in sweat and probably smelled terrible, but he found his voice refused to work. His chin fell to his chest, and his throat burned with the words he couldn't seem to speak, his lungs screeched in protest.

"Akaya, what's wrong?"

Kirihara whirled around and pushed the other man against the door, holding him there with hands on shoulders and he leaned up and smacked his lips in the general vicinity of the other's mouth.

He managed to crack his nose against the other's jaw, instead.

"Akaya--"

"I'm sorry, senpai," he said, eyes shut tight in a wince as he pulled away. "I--"

Dry lips brushed against his cheek, and green eyes blinked open. A hand was sliding up his other cheek, fingers tangling in his dark curls, tilting his head back, and suddenly those same dry lips were brushed against his lips.

The minutes seemed to stretch into hours... and then it was over, and Kirihara was blinking somewhat dazedly.

"You've over worked your body," the other man said, his thumb smearing a bead of sweat down Kirihara's cheek. "Go shower off and then we can go home together."

Kirihara wanted to protest--opened his moth to do so, but then shut it, swallowing the words he was about to say. Nodding mutely, he went to put away his racket and retire to the clubroom showers.

The other man watched him thoughtfully. Once Kirihara was engulfed in steam from the showers, he withdrew his cell phone and quickly sent off a message.

[[Found Akaya. Will return approx. 30 min. Keep Bunta away from the cake.]]

He hit send and didn't wait for a reply before efficiently undressing himself and stepping into the showers.

~~~****~~~

the end.

No. I don't feel like writing a lemon--no matter how pretty the images of wet naked bodies moving together against water-beaded tiles... clouds of steam dancing around them... moans and groans and grunts echoing off the walls.......