Wut up peeps? This is my first PoT fanfic, and i decided to skip K-T and move straight into M! It's pretty light hearted though. Basically, i was reading through the fandom and was kinda appalled at how no one seemed to be getting the characters right in terms of AGE. Ryoma's TWELVE peeps! You've got the whole wide world of puberty to play with! What more could a fangirl ask for?
Disclaimer: Do not own. DX
Lying in the comfortable darkness one experiences prior to the alarm clock but following a good sleep, Ryoma worked up a drowsy annoyance. It was warm and quiet, he was tired, there were no important tennis matches today and he didn't need to get up yet...why was he awake again? His left arm twitched as Ryoma made to roll over, but couldn't quite get his body to move. Every limb felt like it was glued to the mattress. This was the kind of exhaustion Ryoma usually experienced after playing his Baka-Oyaji or Tezuka. He was really really tired. But, his bleary brain supplied, you didn't play anyone yesterday. That's true, Ryoma told his brain before he could realize he was conducting a conversation with himself, and so why am I awake?
Ryoma frowned, or at least, he would have if he'd been awake enough to do that. Something wasn't right. He remembered Inui saying that to sleep the body had to be completely relaxed. With superhuman effort, Ryoma yanked his senses into the conscious realm, demanding that they find which body part was malfunctioning. A vibration against his spine had him shooting to the edge of the bed in an instant.
"Oh, Karupin!" He groaned, falling back against the tangled sheets. The cat, of course. Glancing at his door, Ryoma noticed he'd forgotten to shut it properly. Either that or his Oyaji had checked up on him sometime during the night. He really needed to get a lock. However, his sudden movement had brought to light a more pressing problem.
Not really wanting to see it. Ryoma tentatively put a hand to his groin. Through his boxers he could feel that his...thing...was hard. Again.
Ignore it, Ryoma told himself sternly as he tucked himself back into bed, determined to sleep for a few more hours. It wasn't even light outside yet! Ignore it, and it'll go away, like it always does. Comforted by the familiar scent of his bed and the warmth of his quilt, Ryoma began to relax. However, as he drifted off to sleep, he was aware of the nervous what if it doesn't? whispering in his ears.
The next time he opened his eyes, Ryoma was glad to see light streaming into his room. He pushed all his blankets onto the floor and stretched, spread out on the bed. He glanced at the clock-
4:30am
-and began to start his morning routine. Wait...
4:30am?
He grabbed the clock off the bench top. The hands seemed to be moving – the clock wasn't broken, or out of batteries. But the sun was never up this early! Ryoma rolled onto his knees on the bed and moved to push his curtains aside, finding the street empty and dark.
Ok, so the light is not the sun. That means...
A toilet flushed somewhere in the house, and Ryoma looked at his door, finally realizing that the light he'd mistaken for morning was actually the hallway light streaming in between the door and the floorboards.
Oh Kami. This is a bad way to start the day.
Ryoma's eyes felt heavy and he looked longingly at his bed for a minute before deciding it was useless. There was no way he was going to get back to sleep now that he was upright. What was wrong with this day? He stepped over the pile of blankets on his floor only to hiss and freeze as the spot between his legs twitched. Staring fixedly at the ceiling, Ryoma cursed. Still not gone. What a pain.
It wasn't that he didn't know his own body or anything; Ryoma was familiar with being hard. He just didn't like it. It was uncomfortable, embarrassing, inconvenient and uncontrollable. That was the bit he hated most – it was his body, and as a tennis player, he prided himself on having perfect control over all his bodily functions. Not that he used that part for tennis or anything, but still...he bet Buchou could stop himself from getting hard.
Ryoma pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. But did this kind of thing even happen to Buchou? Or anyone, for that matter? What if it was just Ryoma? Or maybe it was a puberty thing, and all the regulars were already over that phase?
The child in his mind instantly said, ask Oyaji.
Ryoma slapped it, cringing at the thought. He somehow knew that this had something in common with the perverted magazines his father always read, and the thought of growing up to have something in common with that was horrifying. Maybe getting hard ran in the Echizen family?
Then again, if Buchou could stop himself, Ryoma bet his father could control himself too. So it's probably just me.
Back to step one, don't think about it. With that thought in mind, Ryoma began to dress for school.
Ryoma Echizen was not an early riser. So when Nanjiroh found him awake, dressed, dark hair as orderly as it ever was and eating breakfast before dawn on a Monday morning, a slight thread of fatherly worry forced him to say things he'd otherwise shut up about.
"Morning Seishounen"
Ryoma locked hazel eyes his father before turning away to focus on sculling his milk. "Ohayo Oyaji"
"Are you ok?"
Ryoma choked on his third mouthful, grabbing a tissue off the counter so he wouldn't make a mess and suddenly grateful the dining table had such a wide overhanging edge – his lower half was covered. When he could breathe again he casually replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"You're up a lot earlier than normal."
Lie, a voice in Ryoma's head screamed frantically, he can't find out! It's too embarrassing!
Affecting a tone of boredom and annoyance, Ryoma answered, "Yeah, well it's not like I wanted to. I've got an early morning tennis practice; Buchou says we need to work on some things before the Finals."
Nanjiroh's thread of fatherly worry disappeared, replaced by his thread of fatherly competition. "I see! Well, go improve – your father's getting old and bored while you slack off inside this house. I want competition, Ryoma-chan! Hurry up! I swear, when I was your age..."
Ryoma rolled his eyes, frantically thinking around the logistics of the room, wondering how to get out of the house without Oyaji seeing his problem. Not that it was massively obvious or anything. Maybe he should just get up and walk out? Kami, please don't let him see. His breakfast was squirming in his stomach.
He pushed his chair back, pulse pounding in his ears. "I'm off."
Approaching Oyaji. In front of Oyaji. Passing Oyaji...just as he'd begun to think he'd made it...
"Oi! Seishounen!"
Ryoma's heart stopped. He looked over his shoulder. "Yes?"
"Don't just leave your plate on the table! Clean up!" Nanjiroh shot his son a disapproving glare before turning and walking back upstairs.
Relief. Ryoma quickly grabbed his plate and glass, dumped them in the sink and ran out the door.
The streets were still fairly empty this early, which helped Ryoma relax as he walked to school. The journey was longer than what he was used to, but he supposed that was because usually he hitched a ride with Momo-sempai. He hunched his shoulders guiltily as he thought of Momo, turning up at his gate only to be told Ryoma had already left. Couldn't be helped.
Before he could stop himself, he'd looked down. Stupid hardness, go the hell away! You're uncomfortable!
But it didn't. Ryoma spent the hour before classes sitting in a toilet cubicle, staring at the door and begging whatever forces were out there to get rid of his problem. He knew it would go away eventually...sometimes it took a long time, but it always went away. The last time he'd been hard this long had been a Saturday, so he'd just stayed in his room. But today Ryoma had school, and then after that tennis practice. Kami, everyone will notice at practice!
That thought really upset him. This had to be gone before practice. If it wasn't, he'd have to skip, and he really didn't want to let something so stupid interrupt his tennis training.
So...what. Rub against something? He'd found that felt good, and sometimes it seemed to make the hardness disappear. But it took quite a while...and he had about... Ryoma looked down at his watch.
Rinnnnnnnng!
No minutes to do it in.
Even Horio noticed Ryoma's dark mood enough to realize that he wanted to be left alone. Sitting at his desk, Ryoma wasn't even aware of the worried glances his classmates were giving him, and only looked up when his homeroom teacher tapped him on the shoulder, giving him a kindly smile and asking if he wanted to see the nurse. Assuring her that he was only tired (the age-old multi-purpose fail-safe excuse) Ryoma returned to wallowing in his stress. It was still there! He could feel it acutely every time he shifted in his seat. It was distinctly uncomfortable now, and Ryoma wondered if maybe it really was some kind of illness, maybe like cancer or something, and perhaps he really should go to the nurse's office. He'd never seen anyone else walking around with a hard...you know...
Ryoma frowned. Then again, Eiji-sempai often complained that he didn't pay enough attention to the people around him. Ryoma supposed he was right – there was that girl with the braids who followed him around all the time, and he knew he'd been told her name, he just couldn't remember...Tomo-chan? No... but that sounded familiar too...
He felt a throb, and almost jerked in his chair. What the hell what the hell what the hell, his mind screamed franticly, this is crazy, it never did that before – go to the nurse, tell the nurse and she'll know what to do!
But he couldn't tell the nurse! It was too embarrassing! If it was his arm, or his leg or anywhere else on his body then sure; but there? Clearly, his problem was getting worse instead of better. Usually it was gone by now. And it never throbbed and pulsed like it was now. Maybe he'd had a reaction to something? Like...maybe it was an allergy?
No. That wasn't right. What the hell. Wishing the room was empty so he could whimper or swear at something; Ryoma dropped his head to the desk and ran his hands through his hair.
"Ryoma-kun?" A quiet voice asked.
He looked up at the girl with long braids, feeling a strong throb between his legs but finding just enough self-control to not react.
"What?"
"Um, are you feeling ok?" Sakuno fidgeted, wishing she wasn't so nervy every time she spoke with Ryoma-kun.
Ryoma found himself fixated on the way she was playing with the end of one braid. The he was staring at the way she was chewing on her lips. When he finally wrenched his eyes away he found he'd forgotten to answer.
"What? Oh yeah, I'm fine." There was no point in giving her the 'I'm just tired' excuse.
"Oh. Ok then. Um, I'll just..." She shuffled back over to her friends, who were still looking over at Ryoma with worried looks on their faces.
Ryoma turned away from them, propping his face on one hand and staring out the window, affecting a spacey miles-away look while he focused on the problem in his pants. Throbbing and uncomfortable. What to do? Ask someone. Do something.
Through the window he watched a class of 3rd years play basket ball. He sat up straighter, wondering if maybe Fuji-sempai or Buchou was playing, but found neither. He did, however, notice a tall tanned senior whose shirt was way too small, and whose shorts were riding a touch too low. Ryoma felt a little warm. He was throbbing again. The muscles in the senior's lower back were really...nice...to watch. Especially since they sort of gleamed in the sun because of the sweat he'd worked up. And he had really well proportioned legs. They reminded Ryoma of Fuji-sempai's legs. Ryoma squinted up at the sky. Was it getting hotter, or was this just him and his stupid condition?
Sneaking a look at his classmates, Ryoma concluded that it was just him. He could feel his shirt sticking to his back. His stomach seemed to be locked in a tight clench as he battled with his nerves. Only, he wasn't sure it was only nerves now. The tight feeling had more consistency than what he usually experienced when he was nervous – like before a big game. It was like his insides were being wound up into a heated coil which settled in his gut. Definitely a new feeling - Ryoma hoped it didn't mean he was going to throw up.
As soon as the bell rang, Ryoma was out of his seat, down the hall and into the nearest male bathroom. Shutting and locking the door behind him, he sighed in relief and sat heavily on the lidded toilet. To his left was a roll of toilet paper, to his right, a blank wall. What on earth am I supposed to rub against?
Fuji looked up, noticing the group of freshmen headed towards where he and the other Seigaku regulars were sitting down for recess.
"Saa, looks like we have visitors."
"Probability that this is about our upcoming finals, 60%. Probability that this is about Echizen-"
Oishii waved the first years closer with a smile, "Ohayo! How was your weekend?"
"Good thankyou Oishii-sempai. Sorry to interrupt" Said Tomo-chan, sliding her lunch tray onto the table, "Horio-kun wanted to ask you something."
"Eh? No, we all wanted to ask you something. Has Echizen done anything strange lately?"
"40%. Huh...ii data..."
Oishii looked over at Tezuka who shook his head, and then around at the rest of the team. Eiji glomped Horio, "Nya, I think he's been just fine, right Oishii? Why, did you notice something?"
Momo-sempai pounded a fist on the table. "Wait! You didn't even ask me! He did something a bit strange this morning!"
Eiji peered at him, "Ohhh? Did you notice something about him on your ride to school?"
"No. Well, I mean yes. But no, not really..." Momo scrunched his face up, "He didn't come with me to school today. His dad said he left really early."
"Early? What for?" Sakuno asked.
"Well, dunno. But I know he lied to his dad, cause the old-man told me he was headed off to a morning tennis practice. Then he said I'd probably get laps for being late."
Tezuka frowned while the team murmured in interest. Echizen faked a morning tennis practice? "What did you say?"
"I just played along like I'd totally forgotten about it and then rushed away on my bike. I think he bought it."
"Saa, that was nice of you. Now Echizen won't have to explain when he gets home." Fuji smiled, "But I wonder why he lied?"
Kaidoh rubbed his bandana, "Fssh, we can ask him today at practice."
Noticing that the freshmen had been completely forgotten, Tomo-chan piped up, "Yeah something was really off about him in class this morning. He was really gloomy and depressed! Maybe someone died? Oh, poor Ryoma-sama!"
"Depression?" Said Oishii worriedly, "That's bad. We should definitely find out if he needs help or something."
"No, I don't think he was acting depressed exactly" Horio mused, "it was more like...like..."
"Worry." Sakuno said suddenly. "He was worried about something."
Tezuka glanced at Fuji. If Echizen was worrying about something, it could affect his tennis. This close to the nationals, they couldn't have anyone become a weak link. Tezuka cleared his throat. "Everyone, it is imperative that we find out what is troubling Echizen. Please do your best without being too forceful. We need to fix this problem as quickly as possible, but I don't want Echizen to feel cornered. Understood?"
"Understood." The Seigaku tennis team chorused.
The first years smiled in relief. Ryoma Echizen was so lucky he had such caring sempais.
Ryoma was sure he'd stepped on a crack or walked under a ladder or opened an umbrella indoors sometime during the weekend. This had to be karma. Recess had brought no relief, primarily because the cubicle had nothing to rub against and Ryoma had spent 20minutes dithering and switching from one course of action to the next, never actually acting on any of them. He'd thought about rubbing against the wall, but the mental image felt so stupid he just couldn't do it. By the time the bell rang, he was back in his seat by the window, the bulge in his pants bordering on painful.
Strangely, his classmates sent him comforting and understanding looks as they filed in, which made him wonder briefly if they somehow knew about his problem. No one came to talk to him during class change over, and if he didn't already know better, Ryoma would have sworn they were keeping the noise level down for his sake. It was certainly much lower than normal. In fact, Tomo-chan seemed to be whispering. Weird. Ryoma shifted uncomfortably trying to alleviate the throbbing, as he'd been doing all day. The tightness was driving him insane.
He'd just about decided to put his hand up and go see the school nurse when another moment of shifting brought a light clunking sound to his ears. His mobile phone. For a wild moment, he considered calling his Oyaji. The possibility of him finding the situation hilarious, or worse, if he found it dangerous and panicked stopped Ryoma from seriously considering it. Though really, for some reason the idea of talking to his father kept popping up. Maybe it was instinct and he should just do it?
Using his textbook as a cover, Ryoma pulled out his phone and scrolled down his short contacts list. Intent on finding his Oyaji's number, he almost missed 'KEVIN' in capital lettering.
Maybe Kevin?
Kevin would be fine, right? They were the same age, so if it was a puberty thing, he'd know. And if it was really cancer or something, Kevin would help him figure out who to tell. And if it was just Ryoma, Kevin wouldn't be disgusted – they were good friends. They were close. Kevin wouldn't laugh.
Ok, so call Kevin.
A sudden flurry of movement as his classmates all turned to a certain page in the textbook reminded Ryoma he was still in class. Right, can't just make a phone call...but if I'm careful...I can send a text...
Before he could think too much about what he was doing and change his mind, Ryoma tapped out a quick message.
Hey, is it normal to have a hard penis?
And send.
Oh shit, that could have been worded better. Why'd he have to use that word? He could have said something less blunt...though really, blunt was more his style, so maybe this way was best...oh Kami...too late now...
Ryoma was actually quite relieved he'd finally managed to ask for some kind of help. He relaxed as much as he could in his chair, which basically meant his shoulders twitched slightly forward. The tenseness in his stomach has spread up his spine and was clawing at his lungs. It was really really warm now. Ryoma sat very still as he panicked on the inside, feeling hazy. His heart was beating way too fast.
His phone buzzed.
Ok um this might be awkward. I cant believe u live with with that pervert and u still dunno this stuff. Yah its normal. R u alone?
Overwhelming relief. Normal. Ryoma's hands were shaking slightly as he replied.
No im at skewl in class. n I just remembered the time difference. Soz
"Everyone turn to page 532, titled Digital Art in the 20th Century"
Ryoma obediently shuffled the pages in his book as his phone buzzed again.
Its fine I couldnt sleep anyway. Um well that sux, cause to fix ur prob u rly need to be alone. This has to do with growing up. Do u no anything at all about this?
He texted back.
Nt rly. Only that its uncomfortable and kinda painful and it usually goes away by itself.
He waited exactly three minutes for the next reply. The tight feeling was starting to inch its way up his throat, and he fancied he could feel it in his arms, almost like a cramp but much lighter. Suddenly he thought of when couples say they felt 'electricity' between them. Like this? Is this the feeling they're trying to describe? Paying attention to art theory was impossible for his brain at this moment, so he began to watch the clock tick its way towards lunchtime. And blessedly alone time.
Soz had to go to the toilet. Nah Ryoma u got that rong. Usually u gotta get rid of it urself. Its called masturbating. If its painful that means u left it too long, bt u can always fix it. If ur stoopid dad rly told u nothin then I'll just sai again, its totally normal and ur not sik or anythin.
The bell rang, and once again Ryoma shot out of his seat and ran straight to the bathroom. Running was extremely uncomfortable, and Ryoma realized he really wouldn't be able to play tennis like this. Embarrassment wasn't the only thing stopping him from going to practice now – he literally couldn't play in this condition. Ryoma could only hope this 'masturbating' thing didn't take more than 40 minutes. Deciding texting would take too long, Ryoma dialled Kevin's number and listened to the phone ring.
"Hello, Ryoma?"
"Yeah, hey it's me." He lent back against the cubicle wall, strangely short of breath and feeling like it was 100 degrees.
"Hey man, I feel really bad for you right now. That has got to really suck, but its gunna be ok. Wait, I thought you were in class?"
"It's lunchtime, so now I'm alone. So how do I do this?"
"Ok, uh...well." He heard Kevin take a deep breath, "Well...ok wait. I think I better describe what's happening better than what I texted. What you have is an erection, and it happens to guys all the time. It's your body telling you you're old enough to have sex. So it's like, a part of puberty. D'you get it?"
"Uh, yeah kinda. So how do I get rid of this? I have tennis practice Kevin – this really has to go away before practice starts."
"Right. Ok. First off, you need to get out of your pants-"
Ryoma yanked the phone away from his ear as the bathroom door swung open.
"-he'll be fine. It's probably something we can fix – like maybe he lost his cat. What's its name...? Karuka? K-something...anyway, if it's anything bad, you know I can fix it right? No one can hurt Seigaku's baby and get away with it."
"Yes, but Fuji, what if it is something very personal? Or something we can't fix? What if someone close to him has died? If this affects his tennis we'll have to pull him from the team and that'll definitely make him feel even worse – but if it's for the team..."
"Stop worrying Tezuka. Jeez, sometimes you remind me of Oishii."
Ryoma heard the urinals flush and the pair move over to the sinks beside the door. Tezuka's resonating voice was doing something funny to his insides. A little noise made its way up his throat and Ryoma clamped his jaw shut, feeling shaky.
"Being concerned about team members is a captain's duty. I have a right to be worried about Echizen."
Wait, what? Tezuka Buchou was worried about him? Ryoma was pretty sure he hadn't even seen his team-mates today, so they couldn't possibly have noticed his behaviour. Unless...
"Saa, everyone is worried, but it will work out fine. And this is all based on the freshmen's perceptions – perhaps they are altogether wrong and Echizen came to school early to do homework or study. Relax! We'll find out at practice."
The bathroom door opened and shut with a soft click. Tezuka and Fuji had left to finish lunch. Ryoma brought the phone back up to his ear.
"Kevin?"
"Yeah? Was that your tennis captain I just heard?"
"Yeah maybe this wasn't the best place. But anyway, quickly, how do I get rid of this?"
"Right. Well, pants off – or just push them down...whatever works better for you..."
"Ok..." Ryoma fumbled with the phone as he tried to one-handedly work his school pants down his hips, without scraping them against the hardness between his legs.
"No wait! Not while I'm on the phone! I'll give you all the instructions, and then you follow them. Trust me; it's less awkward this way."
"Fine, and thanks for doing this – I honestly had no idea what to do with it."
"That's fine. First times are always kinda scary."
"I'm not-"
"Yeah yeah, I get it. Whatever. So basically-" Kevin took another deep breath, "you need to grab onto your thing and stroke up and down until you cum. Orgasm, I mean. You basically touch it until it feels like you'll explode – touch the tip and the base, twist your wrist – anything that feels good. Um...yeah. Um, cumming is like, when some white stuff comes out the tip. And then it's over and the erection should be gone. You get it?"
"I need to what?"
Kevin released an explosive breath. "Hey dude, just trust me ok? I'm going to hang up now – you can thank me again later. Bye!"
"Bye" Ryoma hung up and looked down at his phone. Touch it? Well, he supposed that was kind of like rubbing it against something, which is what he was thinking of doing earlier...
Nothing else for it...
Ryoma stripped off his pants, thought for a second, and then took his shirt off too, placing both on top of the toilet, beside the flush button. He felt awkward wearing nothing but his shoes so he took those off too. Standing completely nude in school gave Ryoma the mad urge to giggle, but he held it down and tried to concentrate on what needed to be done.
Right. Stroke up and down until white stuff comes out the tip. Tentatively, Ryoma reached down and lightly trailed his index finger along his length from tip to base. Instantly he was overwhelmed by a violent shudder that had him grabbing onto the toilet paper dispenser for balance. Whoa, Ryoma drew a shaky breath, that felt different. Like fire, but pleasant.
He did it again, this time gently wrapping all his fingers around his length. Again, his body shook out of control with the sensations, and his knuckles went white as they gripped the dispenser.
Ryoma noticed he had been holding his breath against the feeling and tried to breathe normally. It was difficult – something about this particular brand of heat had his throat constricted and his heart beating out of his chest.
Another feather-light stroke. Another wave of sensation shooting up his spine all the way down to his fingertips. Heat. Incredible heat sitting heavy like a stone on his abdomen.
Wait wait wait...what if someone walks in? Ryoma asked himself around the fog clouding his mind.
Another stroke, this time from the tip to the base. Ryoma gasped through his teeth and let his back arch, accidentally squeezing but finding it felt so good he did it again on purpose. Thoughts of decency and possible humiliation left his head as the heat and tension coiled tighter in his gut. God it feels almost edible...
His phone buzzed. Kevin – maybe he'd forgotten to mention something important? Ryoma flipped it open to read the message.
U done yet?
Bloody hell! How long did this usually take people?
No! Don't text again, I'll text you later.
The momentary break, while not dousing the heat, gave Ryoma back his sensibility. He couldn't 'masturbate' in a school restroom. It was too personal and too intense – what if he collapsed towards the end or something? What if someone found him naked in here?
Sitting down on the toilet lid, Ryoma brainstormed other places he could go. Solitude seemed to be essential. Um...library? No, very stupid idea. Home...too far. The very back of the playground...well, usually it was empty, but if people saw him heading there...rooftop? Yes...but still too open. Needs to be indoors...
Club changing room! Perfect!
Ryoma forced his clothes back on, not really caring that his shirt was tucked in at odd angles, and left the bathroom, walking as swiftly as he could down to the tennis courts. No one would be anywhere near the courts until after school, and at this point Ryoma wasn't too fussed about missing the class directly after lunch. This erection had to go.
He rounded the corner and got an eyeful of the club room, courts totally empty beside it. Perfect, so perfect! Ryoma congratulated himself on an excellent decision. He couldn't help glancing left and right before he fast-walked across to the changing room – it felt like he was doing something sneaky, and he supposed he was.
Once inside, Ryoma shut the door and immediately began to strip. He was down to nothing in seconds and, having decided that standing was a bad idea, he sat himself down on the floor behind the bench and against the wall.
The end of lunch bell rang, but Ryoma really didn't care. He had about an hour until club activities, probably more than enough time. Bracing one hand against the floor, he grabbed hold of the throbbing thing between his legs, grasping much more firmly than he had in the bathroom.
The pleasure, it was definitely pleasure Ryoma decided, was instantaneous. His body wanted to convulse, but the sensation wasn't quite strong enough just yet. He wrapped his entire hand around his length, pressing his palm hard against the burning skin, and began to stroke up and down as instructed.
Unable to stop himself, Ryoma let a keening gasp through his lips, slamming his head back into the wall. The pain barely registered as fire pulsed through every vein in his body, the heat flaring up just under his stomach. The pressure there was pleasurable, but at the same time not enough. Ryoma pressed his unoccupied hand down on his abdomen and spasmed, curling over his length, pulling his knees up and groaning as the pressure increased, the coils tightening.
He watched as he fisted himself slowly, panting and short of breath. Kami, if he'd know he could do this kind of thing earlier...
Ryoma flicked his wrist, and ground out another low sound as the feeling swamped him. The nerves in his forearms were tingling, but nothing like the nerves in his thighs and stomach. Along his actual length...well, Ryoma was pretty sure those nerves were being fried.
The tight hot feeling in his chest began to rise and constrict in such a way that Ryoma began to writhe from side to side against the wall, arching up into the air as he slowly stroked up and down in time with the throbbing. He was gasping for breath, sometimes not breathing at all as he shuddered through wave upon wave of pleasure, both loving and hating the pressure in his gut.
He slouched even lower against the wall, almost completely on the floor, groaning brokenly to the empty room, completely unaware of anything other than the burning heat. A light sheen of sweat had broken out over his body, and another mind-blowing twist of the wrist had brought a clear slippery liquid to the tip of his length. He slowed his movements, wanting to stop but unable bring himself to halt the pleasure. Curious, he brought one hand up to the droplet, swirling it over and around the head.
"A-Ahhh!" His hips jerked up and his thighs locked in a tight spasm as a quiver took over. He gripped his length tighter, slamming his hand up and down, hips still raised in the air. Sliding sideways off the wall, Ryoma found himself on his back, almost insane with the pressure building in his gut. With one hand Ryoma grabbed at the floor, scrabbling for something to grip as he pushed his hips up and down to aid his pumping fist. He found nothing, and settled for simply clawing the ground as he groaned hard and loud, unable to hold back or be quiet.
The tip was leaking a steady trail of clear, slippery liquid now, and with the added lubrication, the friction Ryoma created with even the slightest movement of his hand had his stomach in knots and his muscles convulsing. He felt almost dizzy, but so so good...
Kami, something was going to break. Ryoma's eyes slid shut. He could feel it. The coil of hot tightness in his body was wound so tight he was shaking with effort. Instinctively, he gripped even tighter, squeezing hard as he pumped up and down, arching up off the floor as he chanted through his teeth.
"Oh god oh god oh god oh god..."
He'd switched back to English, but the thought never even entered his mind as he reached out to grab the base of his cock, still fisting hard.
"Oh GOD!"
The last word was somewhere between a shout and a wail as Ryoma thrust up with his hips and down with his hand and the pressure broke, smashing down over him in a wave of hot pleasure. He keened through his first orgasm, hips high in the air, body shaking like a leaf. He couldn't breathe, the sensations were so intense. His mind went completely white and there was nothing but heat and pleasure, burning through his body all the way down to his toes. He was vaguely aware of something splattering across his chest and shoulders, but it paled in comparison to the convulsions his body was locked in.
When the waves of pleasure had faded to a slight tingle, Ryoma opened his eyes and tried to sit up. He was still breathing in uneven gasps. His arms were shaking and he felt weak and light headed. Looking down he blinked in shock. His front was drizzled with thick white liquid, probably cum from what Kevin had said, that seemed to be drying as it cooled against his skin. Ryoma grabbed a green towel off the bench and wiped himself down. Throwing the towel across the room, he lay back, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. The coolness of the floor felt good against his hot skin, and he felt more relaxed than he had in days.
I should text Kevin...
Fuji pushed his textbook back into his bag as the bell rang. He turned to smile over at Eiji. "Glad it's over?"
"So glad it's over", moaned Eiji, "Kami I hate being stuck indoors..."
"Saa, cheer up – its tennis time now." Fuji said.
"Nya, lets run down so we can grab Ochibi! I want to know what's up!" Eiji began to stuff his books haphazardly into his bag.
Eiji and Fuji were fast, but surprisingly Tezuka had been even faster.
"Probability that Tezuka is extremely worried about Echizen, 100%" Inui huffed as he sprinted towards the three, Kaidoh and Momoshiro at his heels.
"Hoi! Everyone! Wait for me!" Oishii called, his bag sliding off one shoulder.
Tezuka mused that this had to be the fastest he'd ever seen everyone gather for practice...pity it wasn't actually practice that had made them hurry... He headed towards the club changing room, team in tow.
"Everyone, remember what I said: be gentle. No forcing if it's a sensitive subject..."
Ryoma woke slowly – he really wasn't a morning person. The bed was always so comfortable and hard. The blankets were always so soft and...cold...?
Wait...
He sat up fast, the blood rushing to his head. The events of the day caught up with him. Right...crap, what time was it?
He brought his watch up to eye level. Oh Kami. Classes had ended. That meant...
"-and if he seems to be getting upset, stop pressing the matter. I'll talk to him separately, or we can ask Ryuzaki-sensei to get him a counsellor..."
The club house door swung open and Tezuka strode in, Fuji directly behind him.
It was time for tennis practice.
Tezuka trailed off, staring down at him. "Echizen!"
Ryoma fancied he could see shock in his stoic Buchou's face. He curled his legs up towards his chest, heart drumming hard as he reddened. Why didn't I put my clothes back on...?
"Ochibi?" Eiji craned his neck, trying to see around Tezuka. "Is he already in there?"
Fuji was quicker to react. He spun around, grabbing the door and half closing it against the team, wedging himself into the gap so they couldn't see past him.
"Change of plan everyone, Tezuka and I will speak to Echizen first, and then you can come in." He smiled sweetly.
Momo frowned, "Eh? But Buchou said-"
Fuji's eyes snapped open, flashing a dangerously bright blue. "I said, Tezuka and I are going to speak with him first. You will wait outside, ne?"
Another beautiful smile.
"A-ah. We'll wait." Oishii smiled back, a touch nervously, backing away from the club dressing room. Momo retreated with him, and in seconds the whole group was standing over by the court.
Fuji shut the door and turned back inside, taking in Ryoma's nudity, the clothes strewn by the door and the towel crumpled against the lockers. He fitted the pieces together, instantly knowing what had been 'worrying' their poor baby.
"Saa, Echizen. Was that the problem all along?" He walked around Tezuka; probably traumatized his mind snickered. Picking up the clothes, Fuji dumped them in Echizen's locker before pulling out some tennis gear and handing it to the naked boy.
"Um..." Ryoma had no way to answer that without getting embarrassed. He wished Tezuka Buchou would stop staring at him. He shrugged into his shirt.
"Tezuka stop staring – go stand outside if you're uncomfortable."
"Iie, I'd like to know what's wrong. Echizen, the first years thought you seemed upset this morning, and Momoshiro said you came to school early, and now we find you here...like that..." Tezuka realized he really was staring, and turned to stare at a wall.
"Um, yeah...I had a bit of a problem. It's gone now though – I'm fine Buchou." Ryoma stood and wiggled into his shorts, not really bothered that Fuji was watching.
"Saa Tezuka, I told you it'd be fine." Fuji smiled at Ryoma, making the first year shiver in apprehension.
"Ah, you did. But are you sure it won't pop up again Echizen?" Tezuka voiced his concerns to the wall.
Ryoma blushed at Tezuka's word choice, and Fuji chuckled. "Um, I'll be ok with it from now on. I just didn't...um...I didn't...yeah, well I'll be fine."
Fuji was incredibly amused. So innocent. And since when did Echizen trip over his words? Blackmail...if only he'd thought to bring a recorder...
"Well, if you're sure. Though please remember you can talk to anyone on the team if it becomes troubling. Can I turn around now?"
"Hai, sorry Buchou."
"He'll be fine" Fuji grinned over at Tezuka, "Don't you remember being that age?"
Ryoma glared at Fuji, willing him to shut up.
"That age...?"
Ryoma stomped out of the changing rooms, cringing as the team rushed over to him. Kami, why did he have to fall asleep? Would that happen every single time?
"Ochibi! Are you feeling better? Did Buchou fix it?" Eiji glomped him.
"Yeah I feel better."
"Oh? So you were actually feeling down? Ii data..." Inui-sempai grabbed a pen and began to scribble furiously into his notebook.
"No, I wasn't sad or anything! I just-"
"Did you get dumped by someone?" Momo-sempai asked, leaning over Eiji's head.
"No-"
"Did your cat die?" Kaidoh asked worriedly.
"No way-"
"Saa Echizen, was that your first time?" A voice said right beside his left ear.
Ryoma jumped to the side, staring accusingly up at Fuji. Please don't...
"You're 12 aren't you? I think that's a fine age for a boy to have his first-"
"Wait..." Momoshiro-sempai narrowed his eyes at Ryoma. The team stared, trying to put two and two together. Ryoma couldn't help the violent blush creeping into his cheeks. Uh-oh...
"Wait...Fuji-sempai...when you say first...do you mean first...orgasm?"
There was a moment of horrible silence, during which Ryoma decided to stare at the ground, hoping that somehow the entire team had no idea what that word meant. He could feel everyone's eyes drilling into his skull. He could hear Inui-sempai's pen flying across the pages.
"Oh." Someone said at last. It sounded like Oishii. Ryoma didn't bother looking.
"Ah, well, that's...pretty normal, Ryoma." Taka-sempai said in a warm voice, "You shouldn't let it bother you. Ask your dad."
That brought his head back up. "I said I'm ok! And Oyaji would have laughed or-" Ryoma shut up abruptly, realizing he'd said more than he meant to.
"Saa, so if you knew nothing, who helped?"
"Help?" Eiji began to run towards the changing rooms.
"Eiji!" Tezuka boomed, "There's no one in there. Come back."
"Oh, but Fuji said someone else helped..."
Ryoma began to realize this whole thing wouldn't blow over till it was all talked out. At least no one was laughing at him. He ran a hand through his hair. "I rang Kevin, ok? He told me what was going on. That's it, end of story. I'm fine."
"Kevin, that Ochibi from America, nya?"
"Whoa...wait...that means you had a boner the entire day! No wonder you...yeah..." Momo-sempai trailed off.
"Ok. Well, um. Are you sure you have all the...uh...essentials down? You can always ask me or Tez-" Oishii got a good look at Tezuka's face and changed tack at top speed. "Fuji, for information."
"Echizen, did you know that 90-95% of boys aged 12 masturbate on a regular basis, sometimes as often as-"
"Echizen seems fine. Everyone, change rooms now. We're running late for practice."
Ryoma thanked the gods for Tezuka Buchou.
"Nya, but-
"10 laps"
Eiji had learnt better than to contest this punishment and headed towards the change room without further complaint. The team followed him.
"Hey"
A hand clapped down on Ryoma's shoulder. He looked up at Momo-sempai.
"I'll treat you to burgers after practice, ok?" Momo smiled down at him.
Ryoma felt a rush of affection towards him. "Iie, its ok Momo-sempai. I'd actually rather just go straight home. I'm kinda sleepy."
"Ho?" Momo smirked, "That strong, huh? Ah...the vigour of youth- OW."
"Urusai, fssh." Kaidoh stalked past them.
"Mamushi! Did you just hit me?"
"Yeah, do you have a problem with that?"
"Yeah I have a problem with that, baka!" Momo grabbed the front of Kaidoh's shirt.
"You asking for a beating?" Kaidoh grabbed the front of Momo's shirt.
"MOMOSHIRO, KAIDOH – 50 LAPS!"
Ryoma sighed. Business as usual.
"I'm home." Ryoma dropped his bag into the hallway, kicking off his shoes and heading into the kitchen for a drink. Kami, it was so hot...
Nanjiroh bounded down the stairs, "Seishounen! Come have a game with me...?"
The entrance was empty. Nanjiroh sat down on the steps, pouted and scratched his arm. That boy was so fast. Probably already in his room, moping like a true teenager.
A light buzzing noise from Ryoma's bag grabbed his attention. Searching through it, Nanjiroh came across a mobile phone, flashing a little closed envelope across the screen.
"Oh?"
Ryoma finished of his ponta and ambled back to the hallway, picking up his school bag as he went. He lugged it up to his room and threw himself onto the bed, sighing in relief. The bad day was over. Safe!
It was definitely time to text Kevin back though. He was really truly grateful for the help Kevin had given him – that could have been really embarrassing. Kami, he cringed to think of what might have happened if he'd rang his Oyaji...Ryoma slipped a hand into his pocket. Empty. He sat up and searched through his bag. What the-?
"Seishounen! You left your phone on the dining table!"
Ryoma went back down the stairs, passing his father in the hallway. Ah, there it was...he scooped it up and turned around to walk back upstairs when...
Wait...there was a message open on the screen...Kevin again?
Ryoma read the text.
So how did ur first orgasm go? U cant STILL be going.
"Oyaji" Ryoma ground out between his teeth.
Hysterical laughter floated down the hall. Ryoma decided to head outside for the rest of the evening instead.
End. Reviews are love and understanding! I'm going to do another for Fuji and another for Tezuka. XD
Peace out!
A/N- i'm sorry there's no line breaks. It's not. friggin. working! Argh!