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homsan toft ([personal profile] tofsla_fic) wrote2014-02-21 10:03 am

Urgency (Niou/Yagyuu)

Prince of Tennis, Niou/Yagyuu, E
1,000 words
Highly inadvisable behaviour. In public.

The aged wood of the bench presses against Yagyuu's back, awkward hard lines. It's not comfortable - not even slightly, especially not with Niou's weight pressing down on top of him - but he can't bring himself to care. It's hot even this late in the evening, they're tired and sweaty from playing such a long match at the street courts, but there's a desperate kind of tension in him that stopped him even thinking about resisting when Niou pushed him back against the bench behind the court, slid hands into his hair to hold him still - as if he needed to - and kissed him.

That was a while ago.

"Fuck," Niou is saying. "Fuck. I wanna..." his voice is rough, low, and he loses the rest of his words when Yagyuu tugs him down close enough to bite at his neck, teeth grazing across damp skin, tasting salt. He can feel the shiver that runs through Niou's body, feel the way Niou's cock hardens a little more, pressing against his inner thigh - so close to the hardness between his own legs. "Yagyuu."

"Mm," Yagyuu agrees, then groans, hands tightening convulsively in the fabric of Niou's shirt as Niou shifts deliberately against him, just enough friction, so good. He can't claim that he ever thought he'd enjoy this, so much intimacy where anyone could catch them, even if there's not much reason for anyone to be here so late - but right now it's just too important that they keep touching for him to care. Niou seems to feel the same. Yagyuu suspects that he didn't really plan for any of this to happen either, insofar as he's really thinking about anything right now.

“I could fuck you,” Niou says, head falling forward to lie next to Yagyuu’s, breathing just a little hard against his ear. “Right here.” He sounds hungry, desperate. When did they last...? Too long ago, obviously. Yagyuu forces his hands to uncurl from Niou’s shirt, runs them down Niou’s back, feeling the line of his spine, feeling the way his muscles shift.

“You could,” he says, gets a leg in between Niou’s thighs, presses, feeling more than seeing Niou’s body jerk in response. “Do you want to?”

Teeth graze his earlobe, sending a fresh, sharper surge of pleasure through him. “Why the hell wouldn’t I,” Niou breathes, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world - and right now maybe it is. “Unless...”

A dare, or an invitation - it doesn’t even matter which it is. Yagyuu’s hand pushes further downward, shoves urgently under the waistband of Niou’s shorts, touching, testing. He could push a finger inside Niou just like this, he thinks, with nothing to make it easier, and Niou wouldn’t mind - would swear, push back onto it, try to get more, clutch at Yagyuu’s shoulders, dig his nails in until they left marks. A part of Yagyuu wants that, but he pushes the urge aside; brings his other hand to Niou’s mouth instead and lets Niou lick and suck at his fingers.

Niou’s hand on his cock moments later is a surprise. Yagyuu’s so focused on everything else that he barely notices the intent until Niou is touching him with firm, quick strokes that make him feel as though he’s going to come far too soon; and then Niou is pulling away before Yagyuu can do anything else, moving down the length of Yagyuu’s body, yanking his shorts and underwear aside to take his aching erection in his mouth.

Yagyuu groans loudly. He can’t help it. He’s lying awkwardly on his back on a bench, in what’s theoretically a public place, and Niou is giving him head, his mouth hot against hypersensitive skin.

He isn’t sure he can remember the last time he was this hard.

“So,” Niou says, pulling away again, looking at him with intent dark eyes, “we gonna fuck?”

They watch each other for a long, tense moment; as though everything pauses, until it’s all too much and one of them has to do something before... Yagyuu doesn’t even know. Before they go mad, perhaps, although the evidence seems to say that they’re already there on that count. “Of course,” he says, smirks into the darkness; his voice is steady and sure, as though his body isn’t on the verge of trembling with want.

It’s enough to break the tension, and all of a sudden it’s a desperate scramble, both of them pushing and pulling at each other, needing to get as close as they can as fast as they can. It ends with Yagyuu sitting slouched on the bench, Niou on his lap, steadying himself with a hand on Yagyuu’s shoulder, biting his lip as he settles himself on Yagyuu’s cock - a long, slow stretch which must be pushing him right to the edge of pain, however used to this they are. He doesn’t show it, if so. Yagyuu couldn’t look away if he wanted to, caught by the expression on Niou’s face.

The sky is completely dark now and the nearest streetlights are still distant, the moon invisible behind clouds. Maybe to anyone passing by they’d be just shapes in the dark, but this close he can still see Niou’s features, the gleam of his eyes, the pale mess of his hair; can make out, indistinctly, the curve of his lips. He shifts his hips, one small movement, another, another, until Niou swears and shoves back against him, impatient, trying to get more.

They clutch at each other as they fuck, less and less careful; Yagyuu knows Niou likes this, rough and fast and almost desperate, lust overriding everything else for a while. It suits him fine. Around Niou it’s so much easier to just let things like this happen than to think about them, to slow down or be rational. That’s not what moments like this are about.

It doesn’t take long for either of them to come, and when it’s over they slump together, breathing evening out, touching in a leisurely sort of way. They should be hurrying to make themselves look decent, Yagyuu thinks, but the thought is a distant one without the urgency he knows it theoretically should have. It seems more important to brush stray hairs away from Niou’s face, fingers smoothing across a cheek; to pull him close enough to kiss, slow and peaceful just this once.