Genichirou had known that the bond forged by anger and fear, between he and Akaya, would have to be resolved in some way, now that the source of the fear and anger was gone. It should not, perhaps, have surprised him that Akaya understood this, too, without bothering to do anything as effortful as analyze the situation. Nor should it have surprised him that Akaya, understanding, would take the most direct action that occurred to him. And perhaps a part of him knew that, because when he emerged from locking up one afternoon to find Akaya lounging against an otherwise deserted section of wall, he was not actually surprised.

“What are you doing, here, still, Akaya?” he asked, tucking away the keys.

Akaya stretched against the wall, extensively, before he let his arms fall to rest over his head, one hand clasping the other wrist.

“Waiting for you,” he answered, looking up at Genichirou from under long, sooty lashes.

There were not many ways he could have made his intentions more obvious, short of undressing. Genichirou’s hormones took this moment to remind him that Akaya had grown into a lean, feral grace, and was clearly willing, and hadn’t Genichirou thought, before, that he moved with admirable assurance…? Genichirou tried to take the opinions of his hormones with a grain of salt. Akaya was impulsive, considerably moreso than any other member of the team. Giving his impulses free rein was a large part of what had brought them to their current, slightly uncomfortable, position. It behooved Genichirou to at least make sure his younger teammate thought twice. Even once might do. He took a breath for control and came to stand in front of Akaya.

“Akaya,” he said, voice deeper than usual with the effort of restraint, “do you understand what you’re offering?” Akaya tipped his head up, green eyes wide and clear.

“Enough,” he said.

Genichirou could hear in his voice that Akaya was sure of that. His hormones were quick to agree. Well, the more ruthless corner of his mind noted, there was one fast way to find out for sure. He reached out and caught Akaya up against him, pulling Akaya’s weight up onto his toes until he caught at Genichirou’s shoulders for balance. A pointless move, that, since Genichirou was holding him too tightly for Akaya to fall. His mouth closed over Akaya’s, hard and searching. Akaya opened his mouth to Genichirou’s rough kiss, pressing back against him, molding his body to Genichirou’s.

Well, that seemed to answer that question. Genichirou thought he might have had others, but couldn’t quite remember them, as Akaya squirmed against him.

He let Akaya go, abruptly, keeping him from stumbling back into the wall with a hand at the small of his back. When he staggered for balance, though, Akaya’s feet spread apart and allowed Genichirou to press a leg between his. He drew Akaya back to him, slowly, sliding him up Genichirou’s thigh, and Akaya tossed his head back.

“Sanada-san,” he gasped, bright eyes drifting shut.

Genichirou cupped a hand behind Akaya’s head, supporting him as Genichirou licked up his throat. That hand also prevented Akaya from knocking himself into the wall as he arched back further when Genichirou closed his teeth just under Akaya’s ear.

It was the texture of the brick against Genichirou’s hand that brought their location back to him. The reminder that they were outside, in full view of anyone who might come along, shocked a little sense back into him. If Akaya wanted to be taken to bed, Genichirou had no objection to doing so. Quite the contrary. Akaya’s passion appealed to him. But if they meant to move beyond the shared violence of these past months, it could not be like this.

He let Akaya back down to his feet, and loosened his hold on him. Akaya made a disappointed sound, and reached up, trying to draw Genichirou back down to him. Genichirou caught his hand, smiling.

“For someone I would swear is inexperienced, you certainly know how to plan a seduction, Akaya,” he commented. “And, on top of that, almost tempted me to be rough with you.”

“Yes,” Akaya breathed, and Genichirou blinked. That couldn’t have been what it sounded like. He brushed Akaya’s hair out of his eyes, taking a certain satisfaction in how hazy they were now.

“Not here. Will you come home with me, Akaya?”

“Yes,” Akaya repeated.

---

Akaya entered Sanada-san’s room just a little hesitantly. This was, to be sure, where he wanted to be, but when Sanada-san had suggested Akaya was inexperienced, he’d been right. Nevertheless, Akaya was sure of his course. When Sanada-san had drawn him up that second time, all Akaya could think of was how much he wanted to feel both those muscled thighs between his, pressing his legs apart…

He shivered.

“Akaya.”

Sanada-san held out a hand, and Akaya came to him, was gathered up against him, felt Sanada-san’s mouth against his. Gently. Still strong, but soft. Akaya’s breath hitched, and a questioning, protesting sound escaped his throat. Sanada-san drew back, brows raised.

“Sanada-san,” Akaya said, troubled, “you shouldn’t… I mean… what about Yukimura-buchou and Yanagi-senpai?”

Sanada-san blinked at him a few times, before his mouth quirked, and he ran a quick hand through Akaya’s hair before pulling him closer, tucked against his shoulder.

“Akaya,” he said, tone both amused and a little chiding, “we aren’t like that.”

Akaya stirred. He might be the youngest of the team, but he wasn’t blind, thank you, and the three of them most certainly were like that. Sanada-san put a hand under his chin and nudged his head up.

“No one else can be to any of us what the other two are,” he clarified. “It’s no injury to them if I care for you.”

Akaya felt himself blushing. He hated it when he did that. Even if both Sanada-san and Yukimura-buchou seemed to be amused by it. And he’d known, already, that Sanada-san cared about him. He’d known it for sure when Sanada-san had let Akaya’s loss go without reprimand; he had nearly keeled over from the shock, right there on the court. The problem was, the other two weren’t the only problem; just the first that came to mind. How could gentleness defuse the weight of what had fed back and forth between them, every time one of them lashed out at anyone?

“It would be easier if you were rough,” he said, quietly. Sanada-san’s eyes blanked with surprise, for a moment.

“You really did mean it that way?” he murmured, shaking his head before Akaya could answer. “No. If you still think you want that, later, maybe. But not now. You should know, first, what it means for someone to be gentle with you.”

“It would,” Akaya repeated, with careful emphasis, “make it easier.” This time he thought Sanada-san understood, because his eyes turned distant the way they did when he was judging an opponent. But he still shook his head, more wearily this time.

“This, Akaya,” he said, sternly, “is what comes of you relying on your intuition before your analysis. If I were rough with you now, even if you enjoyed it, which I begin to suspect you might,” Akaya blushed again, “it would only make it more difficult for both of us to turn aside from the violence we’ve shared already.”

Akaya thought about that. He hadn’t really planned beyond simply making contact, grounding the hovering tension that had grown between them over the past months. Forethought wasn’t exactly his strength. So, when Sanada-san repeated, “No. Not your first time,” he accepted it and relaxed into Sanada-san’s arms, lifting his face for another kiss.

Expecting it, this time, Akaya gave himself to the softer touch, to Sanada-san’s mouth sliding over his, teasing, slow. He parted his lips on a sigh, as Sanada-san’s tongue flicked at them, and made a small humming sound as Sanada-san settled Akaya more comfortably against his body. The hum became a purr as Sanada’s hands slid over his shoulders, down his back, and finally reached for the buttons of his shirt.

Akaya returned the favor, though most of his attention was on Sanada-san’s tongue stroking lines and circles against his. It was nice to be able to multi-task; it was one of the things he was good at, as the entire team knew, even if Marui-senpai did say that only meant he broke even because he had the attention span of a gnat. Maybe he should bring this moment up as an example of his attention span… no, Sanada-san would kill him. Though, it was fun to get Sanada-san a little stirred up, as long as one stopped short of really pissing him off.

A thought occurred to Akaya, as Sanada-san brushed his shirt off his shoulders, and he broke away, grinning. At Sanada-san’s what now? look, Akaya let his hands trail down his own body to rest on his belt-buckle, lowering his head so he could look at Sanada-san from under his lashes. As he undid his pants, and slid them off his hips, he saw heat flare in the deep brown eyes. The grin got a little wider. Completely naked, he stretched up on his toes, dropping his head back. He was mildly disappointed not to feel Sanada-san’s hands on him before he settled back down, but the fire in those eyes was perfectly gratifying.

A corner of Sanada-san’s mouth curled up as he followed suit, but Akaya didn’t notice it for long because his eyes were drawn downwards. And that was going… Um. Yes. That particular item distracted him enough that he barely noticed Sanada-san was coming towards him until he did feel Sanada-san’s hands on him, pulling him close again.

All Akaya’s thoughts broke off, lost in a tense gasp, because the feeling of Sanada-san’s hands running over his bare skin was shockingly different than it had been clothed. He leaned into Sanada-san for support, only to shiver at the soft, warm slide of their bodies against each other. A faint ah escaped him as Sanada-san’s spread hands pressed up his back, pushing him into Sanada-san’s chest, and Akaya rose up on his toes in response to that firm touch.

“I should teach you a lesson about teasing, Akaya,” Sanada-san said in his ear, voice deep and rich with amusement and intimacy. “But somehow I doubt it would keep you from playing with fire.”

“Sanada-san,” Akaya breathed, without the coherence to answer further. Sanada-san kissed him, hard.

He was grateful when Sanada-san let him down onto the bed, because he wasn’t sure how long he would stay standing without Sanada-san holding him up. Once he was lying down he could let himself twist and arch into the stroke of Sanada-san’s hands over his stomach, down his legs, without worrying about little things like falling down. He felt like his body had turned to some kind of liquid, waves echoing out from every point of contact.

Sanada-san wrapped Akaya in his arms and rolled over, pulling Akaya to lie on top of him. Akaya blinked down, and then sucked in his breath as Sanada-san’s hands ran down his thighs, spreading his legs wide. He felt Sanada-san bring his own legs up to keep Akaya’s open, and heat touched his cheeks. Sanada-san smiled at him, slight and promising, before he wound a hand into Akaya’s hair and drew him down to a slow kiss. He felt Sanada-san shift under him, heard a faint clatter, and then felt Sanada-san’s other hand, slick and cool, press between his cheeks. He made a startled sound into Sanada-san’s mouth, but that hand didn’t go any further yet, only rubbed against him, massaging.

The touch was gentle and hard, careful and forceful; it was entirely Sanada-san’s touch. Akaya dropped his head down to the curve of Sanada-san’s shoulder, feeling the sliding press of Sanada-san’s hand persuading his muscles to relax and open, feeling his legs splayed apart, lax, feeling both exposed and wantonly pleased by his position. Feeling, at last, two of Sanada-san’s fingers press smoothly into him, and he gasped sharply against Sanada-san’s neck.

“You let me in easily,” Sanada-san murmured to him. “Maybe I will show you what it’s like rough, after all. Another time.”

Something that Akaya’s dignity refused to call a whimper left his throat as Sanada-san’s fingers moved, stroked out and back into him. Skittering flashes of pleasure followed their path, a luxurious stretch of muscle coupled with a sharp tingle as his body worked around them. When Sanada-san turned his hand, twisting his fingers inside Akaya, Akaya moaned and pressed up into the touch. When another finger joined the first two, Akaya tossed up his head, eyes closed, lips parted. The stretch burned, like exhaustion after a long game. The satisfaction in the feeling was very similar.

“Akaya?” Sanada-san asked.

“Yes,” Akaya managed, opening his eyes. Whatever was in them made Sanada-san’s mouth curve before his fingers stroked Akaya, hard, inside, and sensation clenched around Akaya’s nerves like hot wire. He jerked against Sanada-san’s body as Sanada-san’s fingertips slid over and over that spot, until Akaya cried out. As Sanada-san’s fingers retreated and thrust back down, Akaya leaned on his elbows, panting.

“Ah… ah… hhah…”

“So responsive, Akaya,” Sanada-san commented, and his fingers slipped out with a suddenness that startled Akaya. Sanada-san rolled him back underneath, and Akaya blinked up at him, dazed.

When something significantly larger than Sanada-san’s fingers pushed against him, he focused on Sanada-san’s eyes, sharp and hot, and reached up. Sanada-san leaned over him, letting Akaya take hold of his shoulders as he pressed forward. Akaya’s breath came fast and short, caught on a choke as Sanada-san slipped into him. Tremors coursed through Akaya, and Sanada-san held still. Akaya, really looking at him, saw the iron control in the set of his mouth, felt it in the tensing of his shoulders. Sanada-san was concerned for him, was holding back to be sure Akaya was all right. Akaya let out his breath on a slightly broken laugh.

Sanada-san looked down at him, completely still for a moment, and Akaya brushed his fingers over Sanada-san’s mouth.

“I’m all right,” he husked. “It’s good.”

“Good,” Sanada-san said against his fingertips, deep voice soft.

The movement of Sanada-san sliding into him pulled a long moan from Akaya. It was good. He liked that tingle, that almost scratchy feeling of muscles stretching, and the moving, the sliding of something inside him, was like warm oil spread over skin. The slow, smooth strength of Sanada-san’s motion pressed him back against the bed and left him trembling. Every thrust pressed more tension out of him, until his body was as lax as it had been when he lay sprawled over Sanada-san.

Until Sanada-san lifted Akaya’s hips, a little, and his next thrust drove sharper pleasure through Akaya’s body. Sanada-san refused to move any faster, though, and Akaya found himself caught in waves of flowing heat that were just too slow to carry him to release.

“Sanada-san,” he gasped, pleading, and Sanada-san’s mouth curved in a deeply satisfied smile.

When Sanada-san’s hand closed, tight, around Akaya and stroked him, fast, the spike of sensation flung him over the edge. The rushing surge of his body was as much of a shock as if he’d been shoved through a glass wall. The world shuddered around him, and he felt Sanada-san driving into him faster, opened his eyes just in time to see that hard mouth fall open, and something bright and even tender cross Sanada-san’s face. The sight made him wind his arms around Sanada-san, as he slumped down over Akaya.

As Sanada-san caught his breath, he rolled them both over once again, stroking his hands down Akaya’s back and legs, soothing shaking muscles. Akaya laughed a little, tucking his head under Sanada-san’s chin.

“You like to have me here, don’t you?” he murmured.

“Mmm,” Sanada-san agreed. “And you seem to enjoy being there.”

“Lots,” Akaya confirmed, stretching happily before he wriggled to get a bit more comfortable. “You have good hands; I like to feel them.” He paused. “I’m still going to beat you at tennis, of course.”

It felt interesting, to be lying on top of someone who was laughing.

“So,” Akaya said, after they were still again, “are you going to show me what it’s like when you’re rough?”

Another laugh, this one a purring rumble in the broad chest under Akaya’s ear. Sanada-san’s hands slid familiarly over Akaya’s skin.

“Wait and see, Akaya.”

End