A few words. I. Love. MomoKai. I love it! It is my obsession! I don't know how I got into it, but seriously, everytime I watch an episode with those two, whether they are fighting or actually getting along for once, I always think to myself "God, these two are so stupid! Don't they see that they belong together?" There is not enough MomoKai on FF, and I really wanted to write one, so...

Ahem. Enough with my rant. Just a few more things. This is going to be the first in a little mini-series of MomoKai stories coming up. There might be one or two more sequels, depending on the amount of ideas my brain comes up with.

Okay, that should do for now! Here's chapter one, and I hope you like it!

Momo gripped the handle of his tennis racket tighter, glaring at the tennis ball that rolled to a stop at his feet. He gritted his teeth in frustration and leaned down to pick it up, squeezing the small ball more tightly than was necessary. "Come on," he growled to himself as he adjusted his position on the base line and threw the ball up to serve. He swung his right arm forward sharply, his racket connecting with the tennis ball with a loud thwack. It landed on the inside corner of the proper service box, and Momo prepared himself for the return, moving toward the center of the baseline.

The ball, moving rapidly, rebounded off the wall on the other side of the court and came hurtling back toward Momo's backhand. Quickly, Momo ran toward where the ball was heading, giving it a powerful stroke once it bounced once. The ball flew through the air, hit the wall, and came back, this time to Momo's forehand. Momo whipped around, using his left foot to pivet him around and pushed forward, sprinting to get to the ball in time. Breathing heavily, he sliced his racket down sharply , capturing the ball and sending it spinning fiercely toward the wall. Shuffling back to the center, Momo watched the path the ball was taking.

Don't think. Don't think. Just watch. Watch and react. Don't think.

The wall bounced off the wall and flew over the net, still spinning very fast toward the center. Momo smirked as he jogged forward and stood, waiting for the ball to bounce at his feet. An easy hit. He brought his racket back, waiting.

But as he let his guard down physically, the same thing happened mentally. And the ball transformed, turning from a yellow sphere into two dark pupils, belonging to a pair of glaring eyes that had always stared daggers into him. Momo gasped.

At that moment, the illusion disappeared and the ball reappeared. Momo couldn't react fast enough and could grunt in pain and anger at himself as the ball shot upward, hitting him square on the thigh. It stung like hell.

Momo collapsed to his knees, rubbing his thigh in an attempt to get rid of some of the throbbing pain that the ball had caused. "Damn," Momo cursed under his breath and lay down on his back on the hard asphalt of the tennis court. He stared up at the sky, lost in the clear blue.

What the hell am I thinking? I got to get him out of my head now. Why him, anyway? Why him, of all people?

Momo raised an arm and placed it on his eyes, suddenly sick of the sky.

He stayed there for a long while, trying to keep a certain deep, low voice out of his mind.

XXX

Momo couldn't sleep.

He tried, but it was no use. He would close his eyes, but every time he would always find himself staring into those hard eyes that haunted his thoughts every second of the day. After a few hours of nothing but tossing and turning, Momo rolled over to his side with a defeated sigh. Another sleepless night.

Groaning, he sat up, rubbing his tired eyes, and stood out of bed, walking to the hallway bathroom. Once inside, he closed the door, not bothering to turn on the light switch. The bathroom was slightly lit from a street light outside, so Momo had no problem finding out where everything was. He trudged over to the mirror, glancing tiredly into it.

The effect of all those sleepless nights were starting to show now. The dark circles underneath his eyes were easily distinguished now against his light skin, and the bags were becoming more pronounced with each night. Blinking slowly, Momo turned on the faucet, letting the water dribble slightly on his fingers before cupping his hands underneath it. Momo waited until his hands were full before leaning down and splashing the warm water on his face. He sniffed, bringing one hand up into his touseled hair.

Glancing at the mirror again, he sighed. It was no use trying to block him out. He was always going to creep back into his mind somehow, no matter how hard Momo tried to keep him away. So he decided to let his guard down again, if only for tonight.

And the face that he had been seeing in his dreams, day and night, filled his mind, the dark, hard eyes staring intensely at him.

Momo almost gave a start as he felt a twitch in his lower regions and immediately felt his face flush. He was getting an erection from just thinking about him. Giving a small, shuddering sigh, Momo backed up until he hit the wall, the slid down, hitting the floor softly. There was no hiding it now; the bulge in his pants was becoming more and more apparent. Feeling extremely embarrased, Momo slowly slid off his pants, his eyes grow rather wide when he saw the cause of the strain in his pants. He didn't ever know himself to be so big.

Swallowing hard, Momo slid his boxer shorts down too, his face getting warmer and warmer. Then, once all obstacles were out of the way Momo bit his lip and reached out, gently stroking himself. He had to bite his lip harder in order to conceal the moan that followed. One small touch gave an incredible feeling.

Momo quickly decided he wanted more, so he grabbed his erection in his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Concealing another groan, Momo allowed the images in his mind to go wild. A hot tongue licking at his chest, his stomach; tennis calloused hands roaming his body; lips on his own, moving, pressing, needy.

Momo felt his hand go faster on his cock, using his other hand to cover his mouth as a particularly loud moan escaped his lips.

Breathing heavily, Momo glanced down. Then he ran his thumb over the tip, where precum was slowly trickling out. He threw his head back and let out a gasp of pleasure, cutting himself off quickly when he realized that it was not quiet in the least.

Momo began to picture more. Bare skin rubbing against his own, a mouth traveling down his body, getting lower and lower, teeth nipping at his neck, at his ear, his nipples. The pleasure increased, and so did the frequency of Momo's strokes. He felt a liquid down his chin and he knew that he had bit his lip bloody in the attempt to keep the moans contained.

Panting, Momo stared up at the ceiling, thinking of the face he craved the most. He pictured those eyes, the ones that had been on him so intensely since he was a first year, hair dripping with sweat, face flushed. The last thing he thought of before he reached his climax with a choked gasp was that familiar gruff, low voice whispering his name in the darkness.

Then it was over. And Momo, breathing heavily, slowly glanced down between his legs. His length was limp, and his inner thighs were drenched with cum. Momo could only stare as the reality of what he jsut did started to sink in. Once it finally settled in his mind, his eyes widened.

"Oh, God," he whispered. He leaned forward and rested his head on his free hand. "Oh God," he repeated, a soft whimper laced into his voice. He felt his throat close and let out the quiet sob he had been trying to hold in. "Fuck."

He had just had an orgasm from just thinking about his fellow teammate.

"Mamushi," he whispered into the silence. His hand clutched his hair fiercely. "What the fuck have you done to me?"

tbc.