Do not read if you don't like yoai, don't own prince of tennis.
Rated T for suggested theme and actions.
"Atobe, give me back my shirt." Sanada glared at his lover, who, at the moment, was holding one of his shirts captive.
"Hmm," the silver haired man pretended to consider, all the while pulling the shirt over himself. "Nope." He popped the p, knowing how much his lover hated it. Sanada could feel his eye start to twitch something only Atobe could accomplish.
Though he hated to admit it, Atobe did look good in black.
Rolling his eyes, the black haired man walked over to bed in the hotel room, stretching his tired body from playing tennis with Keigo earlier. Despite Sanada being the pro, Keigo always gave him a run for his money.
A second later, the bed sagged a bit, and a warm body was pressed against his.
"Forgive me?" The love of his life purred, pressing his lips against his lovers jaw bone.
"Fine," the man relented, giving in to the creasing touches.
"But," he paused as ideas filled his head, "You have to make it up me." The other man simply purred, allowing Gen to push him deep in to the bed.
They didn't get much sleep that night.