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In retrospect… it was all completely and totally Kippei’s fault.
First off, Kippei’d been the one to challenge Chitose to the match. Chitose had been chilling, totally relaxed and enjoying a break from the oppressive, irritating, muggy weather of Kansai. Tachibana’s couch wasn’t really long enough to accommodate Chitose’s freakishly long body, but it was squishy and didn’t make Chitose feel like he was grinding his bones against something tough as rock. Shiraishi’s couch was a bitch on the spine, and Kenya’s couch was known to belch up things it had eaten two years ago like smelly socks and bits of cookies.
“Senri.” Tachibana was standing at the foot of his own couch with a frown. Chitose had perked up, in other words pried his head up from where it was resting on the arm of the couch, and focused instantly on Tachibana. “…Get your lazy ass off my couch before you leave an imprint. Let’s have a match.”
Chitose, being the sweet, loveable, and easily ordered around guy he was dragged himself off the couch and went to find his tennis bag.
The match had been their usual. Smoking with unresolved sexual tension, and filled with sparkles and glowing auras and tennis moves that left holes in the court. Chitose hoped that the Tokyo tennis circuit had some good court repairmen. He’d seen more courts destroyed in the last two years than he could name. The sexual tension had set them both off; it was obvious from Kippei’s dark, furrowed eyebrows and sexy glare. Chitose was feeling rather twitchy in the pants himself.
“Hey, I’m going to go… take a bath. Or something.” An was out of the house, Chitose knew Tachibana was grateful for that. Tachibana’s parents were off doing whatever the hell they did, Chitose rarely saw them now-a-days and he figured Tokyo jobs must work your ass off, and so the two boys went their separate ways. Tachibana headed for his room, and Chitose headed for the bath.
Chitose would have stayed in the bath too, if he hadn’t realized they were totally out of towels. Denied sexual relief Chitose ditched his shirt and walked in loose fitting pants to Tachibana’s room. “Hey, Kippei, where’s the spare…”
“Nnn.” Tachibana’s hands were down his shorts, and from the bulge it was obvious what Tachibana’d been doing. In his other hand he had an open bottle of hand cream, a box of tissues lay close by. “Jesus, fuck, Senri.” Tachibana glared. “What?”
“…” Chitose considered it. Really considered it. He could ask his question, get towels, and jerk off to the lovely image of a frustrated and horny Kippei. Or he could close the door behind him, snag some of that hand cream, and lend a helping hand. “You know, it’d be more economical if we jerked off together.”
“…economical.” Tachibana’s lips twitched. Chitose closed the door behind him and made his way to the bed. “Are we saving trees?”
“Trees, energy, endangered sperm, sure, we’re saving them all.”
First off, Kippei’d been the one to challenge Chitose to the match. Chitose had been chilling, totally relaxed and enjoying a break from the oppressive, irritating, muggy weather of Kansai. Tachibana’s couch wasn’t really long enough to accommodate Chitose’s freakishly long body, but it was squishy and didn’t make Chitose feel like he was grinding his bones against something tough as rock. Shiraishi’s couch was a bitch on the spine, and Kenya’s couch was known to belch up things it had eaten two years ago like smelly socks and bits of cookies.
“Senri.” Tachibana was standing at the foot of his own couch with a frown. Chitose had perked up, in other words pried his head up from where it was resting on the arm of the couch, and focused instantly on Tachibana. “…Get your lazy ass off my couch before you leave an imprint. Let’s have a match.”
Chitose, being the sweet, loveable, and easily ordered around guy he was dragged himself off the couch and went to find his tennis bag.
The match had been their usual. Smoking with unresolved sexual tension, and filled with sparkles and glowing auras and tennis moves that left holes in the court. Chitose hoped that the Tokyo tennis circuit had some good court repairmen. He’d seen more courts destroyed in the last two years than he could name. The sexual tension had set them both off; it was obvious from Kippei’s dark, furrowed eyebrows and sexy glare. Chitose was feeling rather twitchy in the pants himself.
“Hey, I’m going to go… take a bath. Or something.” An was out of the house, Chitose knew Tachibana was grateful for that. Tachibana’s parents were off doing whatever the hell they did, Chitose rarely saw them now-a-days and he figured Tokyo jobs must work your ass off, and so the two boys went their separate ways. Tachibana headed for his room, and Chitose headed for the bath.
Chitose would have stayed in the bath too, if he hadn’t realized they were totally out of towels. Denied sexual relief Chitose ditched his shirt and walked in loose fitting pants to Tachibana’s room. “Hey, Kippei, where’s the spare…”
“Nnn.” Tachibana’s hands were down his shorts, and from the bulge it was obvious what Tachibana’d been doing. In his other hand he had an open bottle of hand cream, a box of tissues lay close by. “Jesus, fuck, Senri.” Tachibana glared. “What?”
“…” Chitose considered it. Really considered it. He could ask his question, get towels, and jerk off to the lovely image of a frustrated and horny Kippei. Or he could close the door behind him, snag some of that hand cream, and lend a helping hand. “You know, it’d be more economical if we jerked off together.”
“…economical.” Tachibana’s lips twitched. Chitose closed the door behind him and made his way to the bed. “Are we saving trees?”
“Trees, energy, endangered sperm, sure, we’re saving them all.”