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homsan toft ([personal profile] tofsla_fic) wrote2014-02-21 09:35 am

Significance (Niou/Yagyuu)

Prince of Tennis, Niou/Yagyuu, M
2,000 words
After semi-finals. Yagyuu doesn't like losing and Niou doesn't really like trying to make people feel better.

It’s evening, calm and still and not too hot now that the sun is almost gone, and they’re finally alone, walking with matching footfalls on worn, cracked pavement near Yagyuu’s house. Yagyuu is still full of nervous tension, even though the games are over, the fear that they might lose long gone. Niou can feel it radiating from him, and ok, maybe it wasn’t their most stunning victory ever, but it was a victory.

“It doesn’t matter that you lost, y’know,” he says, and watches Yagyuu’s shoulders tense even more, observes with grudging admiration the way his partner’s back actually manages to become slightly more ramrod-straight. He wouldn’t have thought it possible. “We won. Overall.”

“No losses,” Yagyuu snaps. “Wasn’t that the idea?”

Niou shrugs slightly. Things have changed a bit since Sanada got his ass handed to him by that first-year brat at the regional final. The rules are harsher now, in some ways, but... hell. That team threw them all. Another unexpected hitch, but they got past it, and that’s the important thing. Yukimura can bitch all he wants, but they can already see what needs improving for themselves.

He knows it’s easier to think like that when he isn’t the one who lost a match so spectacularly, though.

We’ve still never lost,” he points out, grins at Yagyuu, stretching lazily. “And we won’t.”

Yagyuu glances across at him, looks away again almost as quickly. “You don’t know that.”

“I know we’re fucking amazing together.”

Yagyuu is silent for a moment.

“You were good with Yanagi today.”

“Ah, our tactician,” Niou says, waves his hand, dismissing the idea. “It was fun. For a change, y’know. But it was only good with him. With you, it’s...” a sharp smile, all teeth. With you, it’s perfect. “You were good with that viper guy, weren’t you? But you’re better with me.” He can hear the fierce edge to his voice, no room for uncertainty. So what if he sounds possessive? It’s ok to be like that with Yagyuu.

Even if things get changed around on the courts, they’ve got more than that now. It’s best to play with Yagyuu, but it’s good just to play, and afterwards they’ll still have each other anyway. He’ll prove that to Yagyuu later, Niou thinks; feels a twinge of arousal just at the idea.

“Mm,” Yagyuu says, thoughtful, less irritable. It doesn’t last; Yagyuu’s mouth slips back into the hard line which means he’s thinking too damn much. “I still lost today, though.”

“So you’re better at doubles than singles,” Niou tells him. “Hey, there’s no shame in that. Marui got owned and he was doing what he’s meant to be best at.” Another sharp grin, though he doesn’t really feel it. Even if Marui kind of annoys him sometimes, he knows he wouldn’t want to lose. Not at all, but especially not playing doubles with his partner of choice.

Yagyuu obviously sees that he’s not being totally sincere, frowns, doesn’t answer.

They’re almost at Yagyuu's house, anyway.

“Would you like to come in?” Yagyuu finally asks, when they’re standing outside the front door of the house and Niou is lingering, delaying heading off for his own place in the hope of just that invitation.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he says, teasing; follows Yagyuu in, toeing off his shoes by the door.


Yagyuu’s mother is home, and his sister is around the place - Niou can hear someone moving around upstairs, though she doesn’t show her face when the door opens. There’s talking every now and then; she’s probably got friends over, or is having one of those fucking annoying giggly phone conversations that girls have.

“You should have told us your friend would be here, Hiroshi,” Yagyuu’s mother scolds, then welcomes Niou politely, apologises for the fact that dinner will be late - another quick look directed at Yagyuu. Niou can see where Yagyuu gets his unimpressed expression from. It must run in the family.


“And how did your tennis go?” Yagyuu’s father asks over dinner. Niou only notices Yagyuu’s unhappiness at the question because he’s really paying attention; Yagyuu’s family don’t seem to notice a thing.

“Well enough,” Yagyuu murmurs between mouthfuls of food. “The team is through to the next round.”

If it was Niou’s family there’d be more questions, but how did your match go? Was it fun? What was the other team like? Come on, spill!

Yagyuu’s father just nods, satisfied with his paternal duty fulfilled, and turns his attention back to his food.

Usually Niou kind of likes Yagyuu’s father - he’s got weird stories from the hospital he works at, and will talk about anything over dinner when he’s in the mood, even if it makes Yagyuu’s mother roll her eyes in despair. But he’s not that interested in other people. Niou knows how that is, but still - he doesn’t really get how anyone can not be interested in Yagyuu.

Maybe he’s biased. Whatever. Yagyuu seems glad enough to let the subject drop, anyway. Figures.


“You’re going to sulk all night, aren’t you?” Niou says as they make their way up the stairs to Yagyuu’s room.

“I’m not sulking,” Yagyuu says, face smooth, almost expressionless.

“Bullshit,” Niou grumbles.

“Leave it, Niou.”

Yagyuu just sounds sort of tired, really unimpressed.

Like hell is Niou just going to leave it, obey orders like a good dog. Yagyuu should know better. He really must be feeling stressed.

“Huh,” he says, instead of actually agreeing or disagreeing, takes the rest of the stairs two at a time, making it into Yagyuu’s room first, dropping his bag and flopping straight down on the bed, not even paying attention to the familiar state of the room. Yagyuu follows, closes the door quietly behind him, folds himself down to sit neatly on the floor, watching Niou who is pretending not to watch him.

“How was singles, then?” Niou asks. They all play singles sometimes, but Yagyuu hasn’t played alone in a tournament, against anyone competent who wasn’t from Rikkai.

Yagyuu closes his eyes, leans back against one of the legs of his desk. “Less enjoyable than anticipated.”

“You mean it fucking sucked.”

“I mean it...” a pause, a heavy breath escaping from slightly parted lips. “Yes.”

“You’ll play better tomorrow,” Niou says, almost an order. Not like Yukimura, that was terrible, get your act together, just really damn certain. “Doubles. It’s gonna be good.”

“It couldn’t be much worse.”

“Hey, at least you didn’t end up covered in blood like Kirihara.”

“Kirihara won.”

“Yeah, but he’s gonna be sore as hell tomorrow.”

“He won’t care.” Yagyuu wouldn’t have cared either, Niou decides. Such a perfect gentleman. Well, Niou wouldn’t have cared that much himself, really; a few bruises, cuts and scrapes, whatever; so long as you win. They’re Rikkai; they can keep going, right through hell if they need to. But he’s trying to be reassuring. It doesn’t come naturally.

Niou sits up, runs a hand through his roughly spiked hair, stares down at Yagyuu.

“What the hell are you trying to prove?” he mutters.

“What makes you think I’m trying to prove anything?” Yagyuu asks, eyes sliding open to stare right back. Niou raises an eyebrow.

“I know you.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He slips off the bed, crosses the small space between them - it’s not a big room at all. Drops to his knees in front of Yagyuu, leaning in towards him, reaching out to pluck his glasses away from his face. Three, two, one, and-- there.

Yagyuu’s hand catches his wrist, stopping him as his fingers touch the frame.

“Don’t.”

A flick of his hand pulls the glasses away from Yagyuu’s face anyway, clutched safely in his fingers, bumping against Yagyuu’s cheek. Slightly unfocused eyes glare up at him and the hand on his wrist tightens right to the edge of pain, over it.

“Why not?” Niou hisses. It hurts, and Yagyuu’s expression is so fucking dangerous, eyes bare without the mirrored lenses to shield them. Niou isn’t sure which of those things is making him hard. Neither of them should be.

At least, he thinks, amused at the things he pays attention to, it’s his right wrist. A thousand yen says Yagyuu checked that too before hurting him.

Yagyuu’s free hand plucks the glasses from his fingers before he drops them, straightens them out, places them neatly back on the bridge of his nose. Only then does his release Niou’s wrist, letting Niou shake it out, get his circulation going again. There’s probably bruising under the black band of the wrist-weight. The thought is strangely satisfying.

“Just don’t,” Yagyuu says, belatedly. That tiredness again. “I don’t need--”

“What do you need, then?” Niou asks, irritated; hooks his hand around the back of Yagyuu’s neck - his right hand, and there’s a new twinge of pain as he moves it, just enough, good, perfect - and kisses him, harsh, urgent. “Stop trying to be such an elusive bastard.”

Yagyuu tries to say something but it isn’t a protest - not with his hands tugging at Niou like that, pulling him in closer - so Niou kisses the words away, almost relieved (only he wasn’t worried) as Yagyuu gives up and kisses him back, his partner’s frustration and anger making it rushed and demanding and so damn good.

“Your sister might hear something,” Niou breathes when Yagyuu starts pulling at his clothes, intent and focused, looking as though he’s determined to think about anything other than the day’s events. Yagyuu actually smirks a bit, kiss-swollen lips curving. Niou watches, fascinated, using the lull in activity to catch his breath.

“I have blackmail material. Don’t worry.”

Niou wasn’t worried for himself, but he doesn’t have to live with her.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says, and they’re kissing again, undoing buttons quickly, every single movement just a bit more rushed than it should be but, god...

Yagyuu pulls Niou’s shirt off, sliding it down his arms and leaving it tangled around his wrists, dips his head to bite Niou’s shoulder, hard enough to bruise, where it will easily be hidden - Yagyuu's version of being considerate.

Yes.

Niou doesn’t make a sound, so Yagyuu bites again, harder, harder, until he gasps, taking shallow, ragged breaths; there’ll be two marks there later. Niou doesn’t have to look to know.

It’s enough to take him from aroused to achingly, desperately hard.

It takes too long to get both of them naked, and Niou is beginning to feel frustrated himself by the time they make it, but the sight of Yagyuu lying there is worth it, makes him want to touch Yagyuu all over, mark him in return. He doesn’t have enough patience right now, though, so he settles for brushing an hand across Yagyuu’s chest, just barely touching, delighted with the way Yagyuu arches up a little, trying to get more; draws a trail down across Yagyuu’s stomach, settles his hand more firmly between Yagyuu’s legs, curling around his cock. He’d love to fuck Yagyuu, push his legs up and do it just like this, or get him up on his hands and knees, slam into him, make him forget every stupid thing he’s been worrying about and replace it with the knowledge that he and Niou are the most important thing in the whole damn world, at least for a while. That’d mean breaking contact, though, and it seems really important that they keep touching.

“There’s stuff in your bag, right?” Yagyuu hisses, his voice losing its usual calmness and formality. It makes Niou grin, just a bit, until Yagyuu pushes his hips up to meet Niou’s. The friction between them almost makes his arms give way for an instant.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and Yagyuu twists underneath him, stretches out to grab the very end of a trailing strap just within reach, tugs the bag closer.


It doesn’t last long; there’s far too much urgency, no desire to take it slow, just the need to be as close as possible, get as much of each other as possible. Niou comes hard inside Yagyuu, Yagyuu’s legs hooked around his body to keep him close, stop him moving away - as if he’d want to - and all it takes is a few touches to send Yagyuu after him, his body clenching around Niou, making him bite his lip all over again.

“Shit,” Niou groans, slumps forward a bit, forehead pressed to Yagyuu’s chest. “Were we arguing about something?”

“Probably wasn’t important,” Yagyuu tells him breathlessly, and Niou can’t help laughing.

“I think,” he says, “this is when I say I told you so.”

“It’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

Definitely.

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