Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ OZ ❯ Chapter 1

"OZ"

A _Price of Tennis_ Fanfiction

By Andrea Readwolf <andrea_readwolf @hotmail.com>

Chapter: 1/3

Rating: R

Pairings: (in order of appearance) Atobe + Oshitari, Tezuka + Jirou, Fuji + Kirihara, Eiji + Bunta, Gakuto + Akira, Yuushi x Gakuto, Atobe + Akira, Jackal + Bunta, Oishi + Eiji.

Genre: AU, GOTH, YAOI

Warnings: characters depicted in homosexual sexual situations of questionable taste.

Spoilers: Rikkai characters

Summary: A bunch of college boys decide to pay a Goth club a visit--the end up with more than they'd bargained for.

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

Date Started: June 6, 2004

Status: complete

Revised: June 24, 2004

Word Count: 4543

"OZ" by Andrea Readwolf

<crack>

"How're your fingers?"

"Fast and furious and ready to fly; just like me."

<blow>

"How 'bout you?"

"I'm in the Rhythm; there's no need to worry."

<crack!>

"And you?"

Instead of answering right away, the fourth boy pressed himself up against the first, slashing his mouth over and thrusting his tongue inside the other's mouth. The first boy matched his enthusiasm, his tongue sweeping over, in and out in a slow, hazy caress before pulling away.

"Let's blow this joint out of the water," the first boy grinned, blowing a small bubble and leading the others out.

~~~***~~~

Oshitari was pressing up behind Atobe, gravitating his pelvis into Atobe's in time with the music, and while Atobe would admit that, why, yes, they *did* make a rather striking pair on the dance floor, he had also told Oshitari repeatedly that he had no intentions of going back for seconds or thirds or fourth helpings of *that* particular dish. And Oshitari was just going to have to deal with that, he thought with mild annoyance as he none-too-gently removed the hand sliding towards his crotch.

There were literally dozens of other males and females packed into the club. Granted, none of them were as perfect as Atobe, but couldn't Oshitari just *settle* for once? Pick one or two to fuck with and leave Atobe the hell alone?

A flash of light caught sunny-colored hair, dragging Atobe's eyes immediately to the other couple.

Jirou was literally *draped* all over Tezuka, but the young man wasn't sleeping. No, Jirou never slept at these clubs--he used to say it was too exciting; that the music would infuse his body and soul with energy and he couldn't help but move. Now, his face was buried against Tezuka's neck, and it was a very good bet that the other man would have a nice bruise there tomorrow, and his hands had disappeared half-in half-out of Tezuka's pants while the other boy's hands were missing underneath Jirou's loose shirt. The two seemed literally plastered together, gently moving to the beat of the music, unmindful of the hard paced bodies around them.

It should have looked bloody ridiculous, Atobe thought with no hint of jealousy, because, after all, he was perfect, and there was never any reason for perfect to be jealous of those less fortunate than themselves... even if he was the catalyst for their meeting.

The two normally didn't even *go* to clubs, so, really, Atobe didn't know what they thought they were doing here tonight.

Of course the two boys who brushed past the couple *did* often go clubbing, and judging from the laughter ringing out even across the noisy dance floor and the slow smile that peek free from Tezuka's shoulder, maybe it wasn't so hard to guess why Tezuka and Jirou were here...

The sadistical Fuji Syusuke and the devilish Kirihara Akaya were frightening enough on their own, Atobe thought, but when the two had paired off--much to everyone's horror--the result was downright terrifying. And yet again, the meeting was indirectly Atobe's influence; Atobe was the one who introduced Jirou to Tezuka. And since Jirou was friends with Kirihara, and Tezuka was friends with Fuji.... it was inevitable that the two would meet...

The pair had hit it off immediately--sort of like spontaneous combustion, no one had expected it.

Well, he could deal well enough with those two. At least they knew how to kick back, relax, and have some fun. Unlike the other sticks-in-the-mud they had brought with them tonight. Not that Oishi Syuichiroh and Jackal Kawahara weren't nice guys--'cause, really, all things considered, they were good, dependable guys, but... they were darn right boring to have around when one wanted to kick back and get a little (or a lot) crazy.

Point in fact, Atobe thought, as his eyes scanned the room again and noted the two boys sitting at the table they'd claimed earlier, dutifully watching over everyone's drinks. They didn't even look to be *talking* as they sipped their soda and water (gods forbid they should have any of the beer that was sitting in the two large pitchers).

Actually, a drink did sound rather good right about now, Atobe thought, slipping out of Oshitari's grasp yet *again* and bee-lining it for the table.

"You boys having fun?"

Two dull gazes looked at him as if he was insane. Well, if that was how it was going to be, he thought, quickly guzzling some beer and washing it down with the glass of water Oishi pushed his way. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the bland taste of the water, but at least it *did* wash away most of the repugnant taste of the cheap draft beer.

He was thinking maybe it was time to return to the dance floor for his entertainment when the other two boys started. A quick look showed Oishi's and Jackal's attention was riveted to the small stage set up in one corner of the room. Ah, that was right--it was local band night, tonight, which meant they would be subjected to the supposed local talent of at least three different bands. Maybe it *was* time to try his luck at a different club...

"You know them?" Jackal asked with a forced casualness that snared Atobe's attention.

"One of them," Oishi answered. "He---we---yeah, I thought I knew him," the short-haired boy mumbled, suddenly reaching out to pour himself a glass-full of the draft.

Atobe watched, highly amused, as Oishi sipped the beer, wincing. Someone should really tell him that the key to drinking beer was to not allow any of it to touch your tongue... You didn't drink beer for the taste, after all.

"Which one?" the dark-skinned youth asked, eyes boring into the stage.

"With the tie."

Atobe looked immediately. Slim build, probably one of the more tastefully dressed... at least the most covered, although the spiky bracelet could have been left off, the hint of a belly-button ring peeking out of the slightly parted school uniform shirt was quite nice. And, yes, he did seem a little familiar, but Atobe couldn't seem to match a name to the face.

"You?"

"The singer."

The guy in question would have been cute if it wasn't for the line of piercings running up one ear and dangling from an eyebrow... there were probably more he couldn't see hidden beneath the tasteful black tank top and belted jeans.

Still, neither boy was really enough to hold Atobe's interests. The first boy, with the tie, was addressing the audience, introducing the band before playing a quick riff on his guitar. There was a cheer, and even Atobe could agree that the boy was good. Not great, and nowhere near perfect, but good. A third boy on the keyboard was introduced--nice shirt, but not really Atobe's type, either--and finally the last member, the drummer.

Now, he was interesting. Simple dress shirt and hip-hugging pants made sexy by the simple fact that the shirt was left unbutton, revealing a narrow chest and waist--adorned only by a gleaming red rosary, the cross of which dangled at the center of his chest. Dark red bangs hid half the boy's face, and with a start, Atobe realized that *all* the band members were redheads, and he wondered if the color was natural or bottle-produced.

He also found himself wondering what the drummer's hands would look like wrapped around something other than a drumstick.

The music started up and the dance floor went crazy-mad, bodies writhing and bumping and grinding, voices raised in shouts of praise and encouragement... And Atobe wanted to be out there, so he said adieu to Oishi and Jackal and made his plans to meet the lithe little drummer.

"He said I was stifling. Cramped his style."

"Maybe we should see new people, just for a little while."

"We should just move on; our time's long gone."

"Did you know our life makes for a perfect song?"

"Bastard."

"Suddenly I feel the urge to dance," Oishi murmured, shooting a look over to the other boy.

The dark-skinned young man grinned back at him.

~~~****~~~

'It was a good start,' Eiji thought, laughing with the others as they left the stage and started packing up their equipment.

"We did good, right?" asked a happy, bouncy voice, and Eiji grinned, twisting enough to catch the other boy by his shaggy hair, fingers tangling in the sweaty mop as he pulled the other to him, thrusting his tongue into Bunta's mouth.

When the two finally pulled away--several minutes later--Bunta was chewing away merrily on the piece of gum Eiji had stolen earlier. "Mou! All the flavor's gone," the singer complained, wrinkling his nose as he went to help the others with their more complex equipment.

"Ah. Good show," Eiji replied, shooting his current boyfriend a smirk. "Gakuto? Akira? You almost finished over there?" Affirmatives chorused back from the two remaining band members.

"All right! That's done!" Gakuto closed the van door with a huff. He turned, leaning back on the cool metal and shooting the three of them a definitely "dirty" look. "Now, let's hit the bar and dance floor!"

Eiji laughed again. "Okay, okay. Just remember--if you leave with anyone, make sure to tell one of us and text me with their name and a number to reach you, okay?"

"One time and you'd think I need a babysitter," Gakuto muttered, already leading the way back into the nightclub. "C'mon, 'Kira. Let's give these fools something to drool over."

The taller leader of this crazy band shook his head, watching the other two head off. A warm body pressed up against his back, rubbing slowly and seductively, and arms wound around his waist.

"Dance with me?" Bunta purred, sliding one hand under Eiji's shirt and the other slipping inside his pants.

"Mmm? And why would I want to do that?" he asked, sidestepping out of his boyfriend's clutches and maneuvering so he was leaning against the van and Bunta against him.

"Because it's *fun*," the shorter redhead grinned back at him, blowing a bubble in his face.

"I can think of a lot of other things that are fun, too..."

Bunta arched into Eiji's touch, arms twining around his neck and Eiji dipped a little and Bunta rose to seal their mouths together.

~~~****~~~

Atobe hadn't even returned to the dance floor for five minutes before the familiar shape and feel of Oshitari's body was pressing against him again. He sighed, but the music had a good, driving beat that allowed him to just close his eyes and throw himself into the rhythm and melody and shut out the fact that it was Yuushi he was dancing with.

He was mildly annoyed when the band finished their set and waved goodbye to the audience. For one, they had actually been pretty good--not perfect, but a lot better than most of the local talent; for another, it meant that the music was now turned over to the DJ, who had already proven himself quite incompetent. Atobe wanted to follow the band members to see if they would be returning to the club for some dancing and drinks; perhaps he'd be able to track down his little drummer boy.....

The Fates were quite kind to Keigo Atobe, for he didn't even have to wait twenty minutes before his drummer boy and the keyboardist reappeared on the dance floor. Casually, he maneuvered closer to the pair as they danced in seemingly perfect unison, moving against each other fluidly.

It was quite possible they were a couple, Atobe thought with a little frown. That would be too bad, really. He really wasn't in a threesome as they usually just caused too many problems down the road. Still... there was still a possibility...

He could tell to the nanosecond when exactly Yuushi had spotted someone to his liking. They were almost right on top of the two redheads at this point, and Yuushi shifted, turning away from Atobe just that little bit as he reached out and ran a hand up the smaller redhead's arm--the keyboardist, not his drummer boy's, Atobe noted with just that tiny bit of relief.

"Well, hello...what have we here?" the taller young man murmured, but Atobe could still hear the appreciation the other man's voice. And when Yuushi moved up behind the shorter redhead, Atobe could see the other boy's questioning look before it melted away into a gratuitous grin as the redhead twisted his neck a little to get a look at the person who would be so bold as to suddenly start rubbing his crotch against his ass so suggestively. From the quirk of the boy's lips, Atobe knew he would be free from Yuushi's attentions at least for the remainder of this night.

The keyboardist leaned over to say something to his band mate, receiving a quick nod of affirmation before turning his attentions to Yuushi. Atobe smiled as the drummer stepped out of the way and started heading towards the bar. He followed, not bothering to see what a spectacle Yuushi was making of himself on the dance floor. He had his own target for the night, after all.

~~~****~~~

Not even a half hour later Gakuto screamed as a large cock was rammed into his ass, his whole body rocking with the impact.

"You like that?" a deep sexy voice growled in his ear.

"Gods, yes. More," he managed to gasp out.

It was harsh--a fast pace rutting--over in minutes. Which was good, 'cause frankly, the bathroom reeked. He pulled on his cock a few more times, watching his cum dribble against the urinal, and only hissed a little when the semi-stiff cock of the boy behind him withdrew.

"You look good with my cum running out of your ass," the other murmured, sliding two fingers into the raw hole and pumping. Gakuto couldn't help but moan--it felt *good*--and the man chuckled. "You want some more?"

"Nyn... But not here, though," he purred, rocking back onto those strong, wiggling fingers. "Is there someplace else we could go?"

"I can think of a few places," the voice sounded amused, and suddenly his body was pressing against Gakuto's again--already dressed and covered and rubbing so enticingly against Gakuto's naked ass.... "I have an apartment nearby. Will that suffice?"

"Just let me tell somebody where I'll be," Gakuto grinned, yanking his pants back up and fastening the belt on his way out the door.

He found Akira at the bar talking to some guy he vaguely thought looked familiar. There was a smirk on his band mate's face and an amused smile on the other guy's--Gakuto felt like he was grinning like an idiot, personally, but then, he always felt really great after a quick fuck followed by the very real promise of more, very soon.

"Leaving?" Akira asked when he spotted him.

"Mmm!" Hands settled on his waist and a warm body pressed rather familiarly against his back. It only took a quick glance to confirm that, yes, it was the same guy he'd just happily been fucked by. "You'll let Eiji know?"

"Whatever," Akira rolled his eyes. "Where will you be?"

"With him," Gakuto replied back flippantly, leaning into the taller man.

Akira sighed and opened his mouth to say something, but Gakuto's John answered first.

"Oshitari," he said calmly, extending his hand towards Akira, smiling--no, grinning. "Yuushi Oshitari. And if you have a pen and some paper, I'll leave you the number and address where you can reach us."

"You're heading back to the condo?" the other man spoke up, recapturing Gakuto's interests for a moment--he wasn't bad looking, the redhead concluded, but not really his type, either. Nope, not like Yuushi---Mmmm, nice name. He was going to enjoy shouting that name---who was subtly rubbing his cock against Gakuto's ass with each little sway to the music still pumping out of the speakers; who kept one hand possessively on Gakuto's waist and leaned into him as he scribbled the promised information onto a piece of paper the other guy had produced.

"Ah. See you around, Keigo," Yuushi answered, casually handing the paper to Akira.

"Have fun," Keigo called to them as Gakuto and Yuushi turned to leave.

Gakuto twisted back to give the other man a knowing smirk and shouted back, "Don't worry, we will!" before worming through the crowd with a definite intent on getting the hell out of there, quickly.

He could *feel* Yuushi's laughter from where their bodies were still pressed together.

'Oh, yeah,' Gakuto thought as he spotted the exit just up ahead. They were going to have *lots* of fun tonight....

~~~****~~~

Eiji loved music. All types of music, he wasn't prejudice.

Despite this fact, the taller redhead was *not* overly fond of actually *dancing* to the music.

He'd hum along, nod his head, drum his fingers, jitter his knees and heels, occasionally swivel his shoulders or torso... but he didn't just stand up and move his entire body all at once to the flow of the melody and the beat of the rhythm. That wasn't how he enjoyed and appreciated his music.... but that *was* how Bunta did.

And since, technically, Bunta was his 'boyfriend', and part of the job of being a boyfriend was keeping your boyfriend happy, Eiji found himself out on the dance floor trying his best to look like he knew what the hell he was doing.

Yeah, it was pretty scary looking, he was sure, but no one was looking at him like he was a monster or some weird monstrosity yet, so... maybe he wasn't doing *too* poorly.

And then he caught a flash--just a quick flicker of a very familiar face that was gone in the second it took to blink--and he nearly tripped both himself and Bunta.

"Hey!" the shorter redhead teased, bopping Eiji in the shoulder lightly. "What was that for?"

"Sorry, sorry," he murmured quickly. "I thought I saw... well, it doesn't matter. You up for getting a drink?"

"Mmm? Sure."

Eiji managed to make his way up to the bar, Bunta hanging onto his shirt and pants all the way, but he stopped suddenly, not even five feet from their destination. Bunta's arms wrapped around Eiji's waist, lips nibbling on the taller man's neck.

"Mmm--get me something sweet, like a White Russian or a Sex on the Beach with--"

"Extra cherries?" interrupted a voice warm like spiced rum.

Bunta tensed, only then realizing how tense Eiji already was, and the slightly shorter redhead slipped around his boyfriend until he was in front, leaning back into Eiji and glaring mulishly up at the other two guys standing between them and the bar.

"Never expected to see you in a place like this, Jackal," he commented, his voice light and airy in utter contrast to his hard and sharp eyes. The gum snapped. "Who's your friend?"

"S'chiroh," Eiji answered sort of dazedly and Bunta started, giving the fourth person in this unlikely quartet a more assessing look.

He'd always wondered what kind of guy Eiji's ex had been, after all---wondered what kind of guy would commit himself to one person for over six fricking years before just calling it quits. He and Jackal had their own history, yeah, but it didn't reach before college--he'd met the Brazilian exchange student as a freshmen. But Eiji and his ex had known each other since what? High school? Or was it even before then? Bunta couldn't remember. All he knew was that the relationship had ended sourly a little less than a year ago--

Yeah, it had been a bitchingly hard time to get the other redhead to even agree to go out with him at all thanks to this guy, Bunta mused.

Still, he didn't see anything too great about him. Yeah, he was kind of cute in a boy-next-door way. And, okay, so maybe his eyes looked pretty interesting, even in the darkened lighting of the club... and maybe he even had a nice body--But Bunta was willing to bet good money that Jackal had an even better body...

"Eiji--"

Bunta practically growled. This guy had *no* right to be saying *his* boyfriend's name so... so... !!!

"We have a table," Jackal cut in before the bubble gum snapping youth could say anything. "Why don't we all get our drinks and sit for a while?" he offered, eyes lighting on Bunta briefly before falling directly on Eiji and not wavering.

Bunta bristled. Oh, hell no! He didn't *think* so!

"Sure," Eiji replied, hands falling almost neutrally to Bunta's waist, squeezing slightly, as if warningly, reassuringly, and the shorter redhead resisted the urge to blew another bubble (cause, really, there were no bubbles left to be had with a stale piece of gum).

It didn't take them overly long to get their drinks and settle back at the table--a rounded corner booth with a padded bench seat. Bunta was still not happy as he slid in next to Eiji and took a rather generous 'sip' of his Sex, sans cherries. Jackal was last to arrive, setting a dish of cherries in the center of the table without a word as he took a seat next to Oishi, across from the other two.

"What's that for?" Bunta snapped and the dark-skinned young man sighed, taking a sip of his own cola before answering.

"Because I know you'll want them and then you'll try to blame me for not getting them, and it will be all my fault because you wanted to try and prove some mysterious point--"

Bunta bristled. "I'm not some hormonal woman who--"

"If the shoe fits," Jackal muttered.

"Listen here," Bunta snapped, his glass hitting the table with a thud. "Just because I'd roll over and show you my ass any damn time you wanted doesn't mean--"

Eiji and Oishi shared an amused-slightly-disturbed look before quickly, guiltily looking away.

"Ma, Bunta," Eiji said, plucking one of the sweet, bright red fruits from the dish. "Have a cherry, and stop trying to be purposely disagreeable," he added, popping the cherry past his boyfriend's lips. "You're giving Syuichiroh a bad impression of you."

If looks could sour cola, Oishi would have been gagging.

"He might get you confused with Gakuto if you're not careful..." Eiji continued blithely, sipping from his own water bottle.

Bunta stiffened and pulled away. "Oh, now *that* was hitting below the belt, Eiji. Really."

"Ma, ma," Eiji laughed, pulling Bunta back to him and nipping the other redhead's neck for good measure. The trick worked, and soon Bunta had melted back into Eiji's side as one hand continued to massage the tense cords of his neck. "You know you're just being disagreeable to be disagreeable, so you can stop now."

"Mmm, don't wanna," the other protested drowsily, and Eiji sighed.

"Just how much has he had to drink?"

Eiji shot the dark-skinned man an assessing look...and then grinned a small conspirators' smile. Here was another person who was accustomed to dealing with a slightly-intoxicated Bunta. "This is his third," he answered. "And *last*."

"You're not having something to drink?" Oishi asked as delicately as he could, trying not to show any surprise at the water bottle in Eiji's hands.

"Eiji doesn't drink anymore," Bunta announced smugly--glad to know something about his boyfriend that this other man wasn't aware of. "Not in public, anyway. Not since the accident."

"Accident?" Oishi started even as Eiji snapped Bunta's name warningly. "What accident?" Oishi demanded, looking from Bunta to Eiji when he didn't get an answer.

"It was nothing, S'chiroh, really," Eiji sighed. "Just a little car accident, you know? No one got hurt or anything."

Bunta frowned. "*You* got hurt," he corrected before Eiji could stop him.

"What?!" Oishi snapped, but Eiji was quick to intervene.

"It's history," he sighed, sweeping sweaty bangs away from his face in a seemingly careless gesture that belied just how nervous the topic made him. "I had a few too many drinks and then had the bright idea to try and wrap my car around a tree---the tree's still standing and the car's been scrapped. End of story."

The dark-haired man sitting across the table looked decidedly more pale than healthy in a warm environment like the nightclub. There was an air of uncomfortable stretching, and then Bunta slumped more noticeably into Eiji's side.

"Ne, Eiji, wanna dance s'more," he drawled, sucking on one of the few remaining cherries. With a note of surprise, Eiji realized his partner had already polished off his drink and was now nursing a glass of ice water that he didn't remember pouring.

"Mmm, I'm sure you do," he replied. "But what do you say we take this show home, huh?" he asked, purposely not looking at the other two guys yet. "We still have the instruments in the van to see to."

"I guess," Bunta conceded, glaring at the now very stale wad of gum stuck to the side of the now empty cherry bowl, before deciding against it.

They found Akira at the bar, engaged in a heated conversation of politics with Atobe, where the third redhead handed over the piece of paper with Oshitari's number and addressed scribbled on it.

"Small world," Oishi couldn't help but mutter as they bid the duo a good night and made their way out of the crowded club together... only to linger next to the van, no one knowing what to say really, until the intensity of the silence built to breaking point.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Bunta broke first. "Do you guys want to come over for a little bit?" he offered, leaning heavily against the van's side for support.

"I don't know... if that's such a good idea," Eiji hedged, looking from Bunta, to Jackal, before finally looking at Oishi.

"I would... like to talk..." Oishi offered hesitantly.

Eiji slumped, trying to push aside the feeling that this was a bad idea as he climbed into the van and waited for the other car to pull up behind them before heading out.

~~~****~~~

Akira frowned at the remainder of his drink before looking at his drinking companion. "Have we talked enough now?" he asked suddenly. He could tell the question surprised the other man from the startled, yet amused, look on his face.

"Excuse me?"

Akira sighed, shooting back the rest of the fiery liquid. "Well, it's getting late, and I was rather hoping we could go someplace and, you know, fuck."

Atobe blinked, and Akira silently praised himself on surprising the other man twice in a row. "Well, that's rather blunt."

With a small grin and shrug, Akira replied, "Well, you said yourself that I'm a liberal type of guy. Are you complaining?"

"Not at all," Atobe returned, grinning and chuckling in a way that made Akira's insides feel more like jelly than the little bit of alcohol he'd drank that evening. "Let's get out of here."

~~~****~~~

tbc/end part one/tbc