(no subject)
Aug. 29th, 2006 02:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat8chaTitle: Ryoma's Orgasm
Author: kat8cha
Pairing: Pre-OT5, mentions of TezuFuji, SanaAto, An/Tomo hints of TezuRyo, RyoFuji
Rating: R
Summary: Ryoma knows he shouldn't be... but he's homesick.
Author: kat8cha
Pairing: Pre-OT5, mentions of TezuFuji, SanaAto, An/Tomo hints of TezuRyo, RyoFuji
Rating: R
Summary: Ryoma knows he shouldn't be... but he's homesick.
By the time I was twelve, I wanted to leave. I wanted an orgasm. Just one, I said. I knew it was a bad idea.
Nin Andrews, The Book of Orgasms, page 11.
Ryoma was twelve, almost 13, when he first found the urge to stroke himself to completion.
Ryoma lay back in the bath, closing his eyes and enjoying the quiet. It was tough to get quiet here at the Open. There was always someone who wanted to talk to him, who wanted his autograph, wanted to shake his hand, to look him over, to challenge him, to mock him. Even after seeing him play people laughed, mocked his height, told him to run home to 'Daddy'. Ryoma gave them the same look's he'd given his other opponents. None of them played with one eye, the other soaking through a white bandage. None of them had watched their captain injure himself so badly he had to remove himself from the sport to recover. None of them had tasted Penal Tea, and Ryoma doubted they would have survived. Still, Ryoma felt so very... alone. Kevin was okay... but he wasn't Momoshiro. Ryoma would have given anthing for a taste of home... he'd have talked to Horio even.
If it wasn't beneath his dignity. He couldn't call them, couldn't let them know he was lonely. It would just prove what everyone was saying, that he was 'too young'. The only person Ryoma ever wanted to prove right was his buchou.
His buchou. Ryoma let out a deep breath, the steam wafting in the sanitized bathroom, the walls faintly yellow, by design not mold, the ceiling a plain boring white, and the entire bathroom smelling faintly of cleaning supplies no matter how hard they tried to disguise it. "Buchou..." He could imagine the stern look on his captain's face for being found fantasizing like this. His captain had never looked anywhere but forward.
The problem was, if Ryoma was the future... who was he to look to but the past? He couldn't look at his father as a role model, not outside the courts. The only people Ryoma had met who he could think of were Buchou, Monkey King, Black Hat, and maybe Fuji-senpai. Ryoma was never sure what to make of Fuji-senpai. He was strong but he wasn't... *strong*. Not like buchou. If Ryoma was to think of them as plants... Tezuka-buchou would be an oak and Fuji-senpai would be a willow tree. Or maybe he'd be ivy.
He'd look good wound around Tezuka-buchou. Like that one time Ryoma'd walked in on them in the clubroom and Fuji-senpai was pressed up against Tezuka-buchou's chest, one of their captain's arms wound around his waist, supporting the supple tensai. Fuji-senpai had seen him, but buchou's eyes had been closed, his breathing a little fast, and his face flushed slightly.
Ryoma jerked a little, blinking his eyes open. He felt funny. His pulse was racing and there was a warm sensation spreading through his penis. It was getting... he touched it, moaning at the sudden burst of pleasure. His little oujisama was hard and red, standing up against his stomach as Ryoma gripped the shower wall with one hand and his knee with the other. Ryoma knew what it was, he was from America. He knew all about erections, and sex, and that his father expected him to put his oujisama inside a girl someday. Ryoma'd never seen the appeal though. Girls were... nice and all but... not his thing. He knew that Katsuo, and Horio had been horribly embarrassed and probably turned on when they'd stumbled in on Tachibana's sister kissing the loud girl. Ryoma found some 'feminine traits' appealing... but not in girls. He liked them in Fuji-senpai. Fuji-senpai looked like a girl, but Ryoma knew he wasn't. He'd seen his senpai in the showers....
Ryoma gasped, his hips jerking as more heat flooded his groin. He reached down, touching it tentatively and moaning. He wasn't used to... He'd start slow...
Like Black Hat had with Monkey King in the senbatsu showers... Monkey King's high and mighty attitude tossed out the window as he moaned, legs thrown over Black Hat's shoulders, the taller boys cock buried in Monkey King's soft and firm looking ass.... Ryoma moaned, the sound echoing in the bathroom. Grimacing he slid out of the bathtub, draining the dirtied water and making sure to wipe himself with a rag before drying off. That was... sort of gross
Even if it had felt good.
He sort of... wanted to do it again. With someone else... But only with certain people. Certain people back in Japan...
That's it. He was packing dammit. He had to go back and help Seigaku win Nationals!
Maybe buchou'd give him a welcome home kiss.
Nin Andrews, The Book of Orgasms, page 11.
Ryoma was twelve, almost 13, when he first found the urge to stroke himself to completion.
Ryoma lay back in the bath, closing his eyes and enjoying the quiet. It was tough to get quiet here at the Open. There was always someone who wanted to talk to him, who wanted his autograph, wanted to shake his hand, to look him over, to challenge him, to mock him. Even after seeing him play people laughed, mocked his height, told him to run home to 'Daddy'. Ryoma gave them the same look's he'd given his other opponents. None of them played with one eye, the other soaking through a white bandage. None of them had watched their captain injure himself so badly he had to remove himself from the sport to recover. None of them had tasted Penal Tea, and Ryoma doubted they would have survived. Still, Ryoma felt so very... alone. Kevin was okay... but he wasn't Momoshiro. Ryoma would have given anthing for a taste of home... he'd have talked to Horio even.
If it wasn't beneath his dignity. He couldn't call them, couldn't let them know he was lonely. It would just prove what everyone was saying, that he was 'too young'. The only person Ryoma ever wanted to prove right was his buchou.
His buchou. Ryoma let out a deep breath, the steam wafting in the sanitized bathroom, the walls faintly yellow, by design not mold, the ceiling a plain boring white, and the entire bathroom smelling faintly of cleaning supplies no matter how hard they tried to disguise it. "Buchou..." He could imagine the stern look on his captain's face for being found fantasizing like this. His captain had never looked anywhere but forward.
The problem was, if Ryoma was the future... who was he to look to but the past? He couldn't look at his father as a role model, not outside the courts. The only people Ryoma had met who he could think of were Buchou, Monkey King, Black Hat, and maybe Fuji-senpai. Ryoma was never sure what to make of Fuji-senpai. He was strong but he wasn't... *strong*. Not like buchou. If Ryoma was to think of them as plants... Tezuka-buchou would be an oak and Fuji-senpai would be a willow tree. Or maybe he'd be ivy.
He'd look good wound around Tezuka-buchou. Like that one time Ryoma'd walked in on them in the clubroom and Fuji-senpai was pressed up against Tezuka-buchou's chest, one of their captain's arms wound around his waist, supporting the supple tensai. Fuji-senpai had seen him, but buchou's eyes had been closed, his breathing a little fast, and his face flushed slightly.
Ryoma jerked a little, blinking his eyes open. He felt funny. His pulse was racing and there was a warm sensation spreading through his penis. It was getting... he touched it, moaning at the sudden burst of pleasure. His little oujisama was hard and red, standing up against his stomach as Ryoma gripped the shower wall with one hand and his knee with the other. Ryoma knew what it was, he was from America. He knew all about erections, and sex, and that his father expected him to put his oujisama inside a girl someday. Ryoma'd never seen the appeal though. Girls were... nice and all but... not his thing. He knew that Katsuo, and Horio had been horribly embarrassed and probably turned on when they'd stumbled in on Tachibana's sister kissing the loud girl. Ryoma found some 'feminine traits' appealing... but not in girls. He liked them in Fuji-senpai. Fuji-senpai looked like a girl, but Ryoma knew he wasn't. He'd seen his senpai in the showers....
Ryoma gasped, his hips jerking as more heat flooded his groin. He reached down, touching it tentatively and moaning. He wasn't used to... He'd start slow...
Like Black Hat had with Monkey King in the senbatsu showers... Monkey King's high and mighty attitude tossed out the window as he moaned, legs thrown over Black Hat's shoulders, the taller boys cock buried in Monkey King's soft and firm looking ass.... Ryoma moaned, the sound echoing in the bathroom. Grimacing he slid out of the bathtub, draining the dirtied water and making sure to wipe himself with a rag before drying off. That was... sort of gross
Even if it had felt good.
He sort of... wanted to do it again. With someone else... But only with certain people. Certain people back in Japan...
That's it. He was packing dammit. He had to go back and help Seigaku win Nationals!
Maybe buchou'd give him a welcome home kiss.
