Another story go! This one was fun to do, and longer than I thought it would be.
Kirby kindly provides the rest of the author's comments for today :3
'As for my thoughts, I've wanted an AtoKaba lemon for a long time now, and the best way to make it was with lots of romance and comfort. I'm very pleased! :3'
On that note, this is basically a bunch of romantic comfort fluff that evolved into a lemon with Atobe on the bottom. He's surprisingly hot as the uke for some reason. We don't know why.
All bold text is Kirby's doing. All not-bold text is Drago's fault.
Hyoutei's school bell chimed through the campus, signaling the beginning of lunch. Some people remained outside, enjoying their meals with the scenic greenery around them, while the majority went in or stayed behind the walls to eat in the cool air.
Overall, it was fairly quiet at this time of the day. Atobe usually took this opportunity to fit in extra training—he didn't mind eating a small lunch at the end of the period. Whatever made him the best. He tied his shoes, then took off to run laps around the great campus for a warm-up.
They had planned it earlier that day. Class was cut, and the three were now camped outside the Hyoutei campus, waiting for the flamboyant rich kid. They were ordinary punks who had heard of Atobe's wealth through rumors through the Rikkaidai tennis club members, though it had been more eavesdropping than anything else. They were bored and they needed a quick buck, as well as they were rather annoyed by Atobe's narcissistic, vain tendencies. Someone had to set him straight, and clearly nobody at his school was going to do it.
He continued on, focusing solely on the treeline in front of him and the grass below him. His pace never faltered. Three laps, probably the equivalent of two miles (even though he could certainly run much longer distances) gave him the warm-up he needed. Atobe paused by the chain link fence beside the tennis courts, taking a quick breath.
They stood and formed a semicircle around him, trapping Atobe between them and the fence. There wasn't anywhere for him to run now. Hands casually stuffed in pockets, the lead one asked, "Hey, you're Keigo Atobe, aren't you?" The other two stood silent, leering down at the boy.
Atobe wiped his forehead and stood up straight, eying the boys right back. His face bore no emotion—these were high-schoolers, larger built and from alien territory; everyone at Hyoutei, middle school or high school, knew better than to mess with an Atobe. Rikkaidai neanderthals. It was obvious they weren't just casual fans. "Who wants to know?" was his icy response.
"Someone with no money." The boy quirked an eyebrow. "See what I'm getting at?"
He wanted to say 'he didn't give money to beggars', but he decided that would probably not be the best idea in this situation. Atobe went along with it. "How much do you want?"
"Whatever you've got on you, as long as it's a lot," the second boy said, slitting his eyes toward Atobe.
The captain only smirked. "How about a hundred? That's a lot."
"Don't play games with us, you prick," the first growled, seizing Atobe by the collar of his shirt.
"Clearly you don't know who you're dealing with. Put me down and we'll arrange something." He was no longer amused by their barbaric actions. Atobe's expression never wavered, still appearing as confident and dignified as always.
The third boy, silent until now, laughed. "There's three of us, moron. What're you going to do?" The boy holding Atobe nodded in agreement.
"I'm going to negotiate. Ten million yen, now put me down."
"Each." The hold on Atobe's collar tightened.
Atobe swallowed—it was getting a little harder to breathe. He stayed cool. "That's a little greedy, don't you think? Three million each."
"You're just making me mad now, you know," the boy holding Atobe snarled, balling his fist and striking Atobe hard across the cheekbone. "We've made our demands, now fork over the cash." The other two boys watched, getting a little excited and ready to throw their own punches if they were allowed.
His neck snapped to the side; he tried his hardest not to yelp in pain. "I don't have any on me. Go bother someone at your own school!" Glassy blue eyes stared at them, daring them to hurt him again. They made their demands, but Atobe didn't like lending a hand to thugs. He'd never give them a decent amount of money, if any at all, no matter how many times he was hit.
"That's a problem. In that case, we'll just beat you senseless." The third boy gave a wicked grin and cracked his knuckles, the second boy likewise. The first blow went to his sternum, to wind him, the second to his stomach. The first boy let go of Atobe and rammed his shins with the point of his shoe, a light smirk of amusement curling his lip up.
Thrown off balance, he fell back into the grass, gasping painfully for air. Each bit of oxygen only brought more stinging to his aching body, and it wasn't even done yet. Atobe forced himself to move. His foot shot up to the third boy's crotch, managing to nail him pretty good considering his condition.
The third choked out a strangled yell and fell over. The other two turned murderous glares on him. The second boy kicked him violently in the ribs, the first slammed the sole of his shoe into Atobe's chest and pinned him to the ground with his head held awkwardly up by the fence.
Atobe hissed in agony. Still, he didn't want to quit like this. He tried kicking upward again, clenching the links with one hand to brace himself.
He twisted out of the way just in time, still keeping Atobe held down. "I'll break your leg if you try that again," he warned, stamping his foot on his leg and pinning it as well. The boy Atobe had kicked got to his knees, crawled over, and punched him hard in the eye, still in pain.
He whimpered sharply. Atobe's breaths were short and uneven, his vision now blurred and blacking out with each passing second—his body wasn't made for all this abuse. Luckily, one of the other sports coaches saw the brawl and dashed over. "You three are going to be in a lot of trouble with the police! Give me your names!" He pulled two of them by the back of their collar. Meanwhile, a freshman that had tagged along with him (probably a waterboy) helped Atobe up and quickly took him to the nurse's office. The three flinched and took off in a hurry, throwing glares at Atobe and the teacher over their shoulders.
He came to in a fairly short amount of time. Blearily, he noticed his shirt to the side, covered in grass stains and blood. Then he saw the white, eerie environment around him, cool but uncomfortable. Lastly, Atobe saw the nurse looking him over with concern. Was it over? He would have sighed in relief if it didn't hurt to do so.
The nurse noticed he was awake and scurried to his bedside. "Atobe-kun, you're up. Are you feeling a little better?"
He swayed some, still a little dizzy. It took him a moment. "Whatever your definition of 'better' is... I'm... making sure those punks get arrested..."
She nodded her agreement. "You should stay here until you feel well enough to go back to class..."
He gazed back down at his shirt. "My uniform... it's still outside..." Atobe winced, putting a hand to his chest. He would need a bit before he could breathe normally again. He happened to look down, spotting red and black bruises all over his torso, and bit his lip softly.
"I could get it for you if you wanted," she offered kindly, pretending not to notice the hurt in his eyes.
"Please." He rested another moment for his breath to return.
She left, petitioning him to stay in bed and rest. In around fifteen minutes she was back with Atobe's uniform.
Atobe nodded his thanks, tiredly pulling his clothes on. The nurse had already cleaned up whatever blood there was, and the bruises would just have to heal on their own. He took his dirtied tennis uniform, and without another word, exited the infirmary—the bell rang the minute he stepped out of the doorway. He took his time getting to his next class, still a little dizzy and his stomach empty. The thought of food made him sick at the moment.
Kabaji was waiting for him at the desk where he sat next to Atobe, watching the door. He hadn't come into the last class, which was weird. When he saw him come through the doorway, he breathed a sigh of relief and turned away—then shot his eyes back to him because he hadn't quite believed what he saw.
There was a large black-blue bruise around his eye, another on his opposite cheek. He was walking a little strange, kind of with a shuffle that suggested injury. Kabaji's eyes widened in surprise, but he said nothing as Atobe sat next to him, resolving to ask about it later.
Atobe leaned forward, resting his head tiredly in the palm of his hand. The class had grown almost eerily quiet, even those just arriving in, seeing Atobe in such a condition—none of them dared approach, feeling a rather deadly aura about him. They took their seats, whispering about who would do such a thing to HIM of all people. The Atobe family was very well-known and wealthy—but they could file a mean lawsuit, too.
The instructor closed the door behind him, the bell rang, and class began like usual. Atobe mustered a faint whisper to Kabaji. "Take my notes. I don't feel well."
Kabaji obeyed without question, simply because Atobe certainly didn't LOOK well. He jotted down on a sheet of paper what was being taught, wondering in the back of his mind what could have happened to him.
The next few periods passed fairly slowly. By afternoon practice, Atobe—though still sore—was back in his dirty tennis uniform, ignoring his teammates when they saw bruises on his face. He took his racket and headed outside, only to be scolded by Sakaki.
Ootori shook his head. "Kabaji! What on earth happened to him? He can't play like that!"
Kabaji nodded to the fair-haired boy and followed after Atobe, catching him by the shoulder. "Atobe. You're hurt." The rest he didn't have to say—Don't play. Rest.
"Sakaki's already told me," he muttered, a little disgruntled. "I'm fine." He left the boy's grasp and sat down on the bench by the fence—the one furthest from the crime scene—and leaned back.
"Oh." Kabaji paused for a moment, then sat down next to him. "What happened...?"
"I'll tell you later. Start your laps," Atobe commanded softly.
'Later' meant he was going over, then. Kabaji stood and went with the rest of the club to run.
"After your laps, foot drills!" Sakaki barked. Practice went on like usual until at long last, the coach dismissed the boys, leaving ball duty to the freshmen.
Atobe headed back into the locker room, noticing his leg hurting even more now that he had been walking so much on it. He stumbled from time to time, but put his school uniform back on without a single sound of pain. The captain wasn't one to complain. He managed to be one of the first ones out and made his way to the front of the school. Atobe began to slow down.
Kabaji caught up to him, keeping stride beside the shorter boy. "How's your leg?" He cast a glance downward.
"...Sore, but it's fine..." He gazed down, subconsciously moving a little closer to his right-hand man's side before shuffling forward again.
Kabaji nudged Atobe's hand gently with his own, almost unintentionally. The limp looked like it was steadily getting worse...
Atobe accepted and took Kabaji's hand in his, the larger boy's comfort taking a bit of weight off his shoulders. He stumbled again, wincing. "Dammit... I'll have the police on their asses if my lawyers don't first..."
"Mm..." He looked at Atobe and the hidden pain in his face. "I can carry you, if you want."
"We're almost to the limo. I can keep going."
Kabaji nodded absently, saying nothing. He let Atobe's hand go when they reached the long black car, opening the door and letting him get in first. He slipped into place a moment later and shut the door again.
He sighed softly at the break from walking. He whipped out his cell phone and didn't waste a second longer to inform the police, giving all the details and the baseball coach as a witness who had gotten their names. With that settled, he dialed another number—an agency for private coaches—and asked for someone with talents in many self defense and martial arts practices. Atobe finally hung up and leaned back.
Kabaji said nothing for the entire ride, as he was used to doing. When they pulled up, he stepped out of the car and held a hand out for Atobe.
Atobe accepted it once more, pulling himself out and leaning on him for support. "I'm tired... Kabaji, will you carry me now?"
"To your room?" He easily hefted the boy into his arms, now painfully aware that he could see the bruises up close. Without much effort, he entered the house.
"Mm..." he sounded softly. Atobe rested his head against the other's chest, his eyes closing some for a quick rest. Kabaji was warm and comforting. The maids and their worried sounds were tuned out. When he felt his soft blankets underneath his body, he woke up again, relishing quietly in the comfort and sanctity of his bedroom.
Kabaji sat next to him, staring at the bruise on his cheek. "So what happened...?"
"Didn't you hear me when I was on the phone with the police?" he paused, catching his breath. "Some high-schoolers beat me up... wanted to mug me."
"I thought that's what it was." Kabaji sighed and moved his glance to his eyes. "Are you feeling okay now?"
"...Somewhat... I'm just glad I'm home..." He looked up to the gentle face gazing down at him. It was hard to not show any weakness in an attempt to comfort the other, but he knew he had already failed to hide it. Still, he managed to smile, if only a little bit.
Kabaji reached out for him, wanting to draw him into his arms. Instead, he faltered and settled for gently brushing the gray-purple locks of hair out of his face.
He almost flinched at the larger fingertips touching his face. Kabaji wouldn't hurt him—he forced himself to remember—Kabaji wouldn't hurt him. He relaxed again.
"I don't like it when you hurt," he murmured, half to himself. He brushed his fingers across Atobe's forehead and smoothed the hair back there too.
"I don't exactly like it either, you know... It's a miracle I'm breathing enough..."
The hand pulled back sharply. "What do you mean?"
Atobe flinched away from the sudden motion. "Don't do that—" He swallowed. "I've been struggling to talk today... They got me in the chest a few times—and hard."
Kabaji's eyes hardened slightly. "Show me."
Atobe carefully sat up, removing his uniform one piece at a time. "My leg and my chest especially..." he murmured. In moments, the once perfect skin, now marred and almost unrecognizable was presented to his dear friend. "And of course my face..." The marks were everywhere. Kabaji could only stare. He slowly reached out and stroked one in the center of his chest, not really knowing why he did so. Behind the pain in his eyes was anger at the people who did this.
Atobe flinched away again. He didn't like someone touching his imperfections—not ones that had been man-made. "I'm fine, Kabaji. I just need to let them heal."
He nodded, removing his hand and handing Atobe his shirt.
"I did the right thing. I know I did..." Atobe murmured softly. He hesitantly slid his arms through the sleeves, then buttoned the shirt back up to cover his weak body. He felt his stomach growl—but he grew nauseous thinking about food again.
Kabaji spread his arms, giving Atobe a look of tender compassion. "You did," he agreed.
The senior assumed he was offering him a hug, which, after a moment of contemplation, he accepted, leaning against the larger boy's body and wrapping his arms around the thick trunk. The tears finally fell. His body trembled in Kabaji's arms. Kabaji gently folded his embrace around Atobe's body, holding him close. He could feel the tears blotting out in his shirt and moved a hand up to stroke his head comfortingly. "I did the right thing... but why do I still feel so weak?" Atobe's voice cracked slightly. It hurt so much to cry, the pain in his chest flaring again and his strong mentality wavering. He clenched Kabaji's shirt tighter.
Kabaji rubbed a large hand up and down the length of his friend's back, letting him cry. Needless to say it was troubling to have Atobe, unbreakable Keigo Atobe, like this.
After a few minutes, his crying had eased up slightly. It hurt to breathe again, but at least he had gotten it out of his system. The only thing left to do was to rely on a personal trainer. Atobe hadn't cried like that in years... it almost felt good when he had settled down some... He stayed in Kabaji's arms, relishing in the sweet comfort.
Kabaji settled, simply holding Atobe in his arms. "Feel better?" he asked.
"...Some..." he sighed. He finally pulled away, wiping one eye with his wrist.
Kabaji let him go, looking at him sadly. "You're going to be fine, you know..."
"I know." He gazed up at him again. "Kabaji, what's with that face? You look like I just died." He smiled a little, reaching up to touch his cheek. Atobe knew better than to have his teammates worry about him, especially with his role as captain. He felt obliged to comfort Kabaji now, to make up for his mistake, even though he was still hurting a lot himself and had no idea how to bring any comfort in this state. He was certain Kabaji could see him faltering too.
Kabaji gave him a small, still-pained smile and laid down beside him, eyes closed.
Atobe lost his smile and looked down at the blankets. "I'm sorry I've put you through this... and I'm sorry I'm not being a very good captain right now..."
"Not your fault," he mumbled, rolling his eyes open to gaze up at him.
"It feels like it..." He snapped his fingers; the light turned off and only the orange sky illuminated the bedroom from the enormous windows. He carefully shifted his body down so he could lie on his pillows again.
"It isn't," he argued.
Atobe glanced back at Kabaji. "I meant it feels like my fault for not being a little more responsible with my actions toward you."
Kabaji raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I shouldn't be whining about feeling weak, or bringing myself down in front of my team. That's not what a captain does." Though, even as he said those confident words, he still didn't feel like he was on top of the world. But at least he was thinking properly again...
"You're human. You have to show emotion sometime." Kabaji fixed unwavering eyes on Atobe.
He was elected captain because he was the strongest, both physically and mentally. To show even a bit of doubt to his teammates was forbidden.
Kabaji, on the other hand... he was hardly a teammate to him anymore. He was the closest of a friends a person could be blessed with, maybe even more than that. It felt okay for Atobe to expose his sensitive side to him. Still, he wanted so badly to keep his position of authority... Why was he making a big deal of it again? He smiled softly at Kabaji's expression and wiped his eye. "I'm sorry... It's just my pride, that's all..."
"I understand." He smiled lightly, glad that Atobe was feeling better. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew that the bared view of Atobe's emotions was something reserved only for him. He was glad he could share space with him while he was sad, and to soothe any wound he could.
Atobe shifted over slightly to be closer to Kabaji's body. His strained breath was the only sound made, still soft like a pant. He looked up at Kabaji's face again, noting the orange glow highlighting his gentleness and sweet, caring expression. It was reassuring, almost alluring even.
Kabaji looked at him, not at all put off by the bruises on his face. Still smiling gently, he leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his forehead.
He made a soft sound of contentment, wishing he could have more of that comfort. I want more, he thought to himself, but Atobe was no beggar, so he kept his mouth shut. He would simply let Kabaji do what he wanted and be happy with that.
He put his arms around Atobe and held him against his body, turning on his side to look at him. Even with the ugly marks, he was still beautiful, and Kabaji told him so.
"Do you really mean that?" He smiled. He had never heard Kabaji compliment him before—not without having to be told to. It was like their unspoken relationship had finally blossomed.
"Of course I do." He smiled right back and laid a kiss on the corner of his undamaged eye.
Atobe grew happier and happier with each kiss. Kabaji really was the best of friends a person could ask for, being so faithful and obedient and willing to give him all the comfort he needed. He leaned up to kiss the junior's upper cheek as well.
Kabaji moved a little lower to peck him on the lips. Soft lips kissed him back, not wanting him to leave. Please stay, he coaxed, kissing the lips again, and then again with feathery gentleness. Atobe's first kiss; he loved it. The other boy met and matched each kiss, stroking Atobe's hair softly and enjoying the tingling feeling in his fingertips and lips.
Atobe didn't flinch this time. He was in too much bliss to notice anymore. He moved his hand up, cupping Kabaji's cheek in his soft palm and thumbing over it lightly. Kabaji opened eyes that he hadn't known he'd closed, moving his hand over Atobe's and holding it gently there. He kissed again, coaxing Atobe's lips open slowly with his own.
He obeyed, parting his mouth for him and allowing their tongues to dance together. He was so happy that Kabaji was going further than he'd hoped—He wanted to be comforted until he couldn't stay awake any longer. With a soft wince, he pressed his body closer, wrapping the other arm around his head to toy with the short, soft spikes. Nothing, he noticed, was wrong with Kabaji's form—something he had usually overlooked.
His eyes closed, he slid his hand back to Atobe's hair, threading his fingers into the silky strands of hair. Atobe tasted sweet and warm... He wanted to remain like this, all night, just holding him and comforting him and taking his mind away from the pain.
Atobe had to pull away with a soft pant, needing to breathe again. He smiled affectionately. "That was your first kiss too, right...?" Kabaji nodded. "It was very good. I... hate to say it, but... I'd like to have more, if you don't mind..." So much for not begging. Oh well.
He nodded again, simply glad that he could distract and comfort him any way he could. He locked lips with the captain again and closed his eyes, running a hand up his back and very lightly coming to rest on his front.
Likewise, Atobe closed his eyes and enjoyed the other's taste, body learning to relax to his touch. His chest heaved slowly, sometimes unevenly, against the gentle fingertips. It went without saying his heart now belonged to Kabaji, and only Kabaji.
Kabaji could feel Atobe breathing against his hand, moving against his mouth with happiness. It was very rare to see him so truly happy, without the cocky edge to it. The hand moved down his side, holding him around the waist.
He pulled back for more air, swallowing before kissing him again just as passionately as a moment ago. His chest still stung quite a bit but none of the pain mattered anymore. The hand on Kabaji's head slid down over his own chest, feeling the soft heartbeat as Kabaji had felt Atobe's. It felt wonderful.
He pulled away from the kiss softly and pecked his lips, then again, further down, near his jawline. He continued to softly run a trail down to the side of his neck where it met his shoulders. He could feel Atobe's hand pressed to his heart and let it beat against his fingertips.
Atobe willingly tilted his head for him. He hated the lips leaving him, but adored the feeling of more, more attention to his whole body. Plus, it gave him a chance to get his breathing restored for the moment. Lovingly, he stroked over more of the other's chest. It was firm and well-conditioned, especially for his size. Of course Kabaji wasn't fat—but he had never taken the time to see just how fit he was, either.
Kabaji kissed the lightly tanned skin, over the side of his neck, his throat, what little showed of his collarbone. He licked a line from his throat to his neck, marking the end with a soft peck. The captain smiled with a strained chuckle. It hurt to laugh, but the sensation tickled. His fingertips grazed over Kabaji's skin, inching further and feeling the nicely toned muscles under his shirt. That was the work of Hyoutei's regiment, alright.
He let the captain's hands wander for a while without constraint, before he took Atobe's shoulder and gently laid him flat on his back. He shifted so that he was on top of him, yet not actually touching him. He braced himself on his elbows, holding Atobe's sides lightly, and resumed playing with his neck, beginning to lightly scrape his teeth across the taut lines.
He turned his head to the side, finding himself really enjoying this attention. He moved his hands back to Kabaji's chest, sliding over his shoulders to his firm back, rubbing with gentleness. His slender body molded to the other's hands like clay.
"Feeling okay?" he asked softly, taking his mouth away from his neck to look at him.
"Yeah... I feel alright... Why...?"
Kabaji smiled. "No pain?" He dipped down to peck his collarbone.
"None like the afternoon. Still catching my breath but... I'm fine," he smiled. "You don't need to worry about me."
He nodded, smiling lightly, and moved his hands up to gently undo the buttons on the front of the uniform's undershirt. Even though he could see the black and blue blotches on his trunk, he didn't acknowledge anything but the beauty of the form below him and the smile the captain gave him. He stroked his fingertips down his front lightly.
Atobe saw it in his eyes, too. Even though he was repulsed by his own temporary ugliness, Kabaji wasn't. Kabaji told him he was beautiful. Atobe believed him and felt beautiful. His heart raced some at the affectionate expression gazing down at him. The captain was used to his handling now—he didn't resist anymore as Kabaji stroked over the wounds.
Kabaji was careful and gentle touching him. He ran his hand all across the body before him, marveling at the lines and smiling at him. He brushed over a dusky bud of skin, moving back up to kiss his lips again. A wish that he might not feel pain the rest of the night resounded in his head.
He gently kissed him back, trying not to remember the pain in his chest. He pulled away for another breath of air. "You're probably the luckiest man on earth to get to touch me like this..." he smiled somewhat jokingly. Atobe reached up to touch his chest again.
Kabaji chuckled, believing that it was true. He played gently with the nub between his fingers, kissing his lips lightly.
Atobe purred slightly, kissing him back just as sweetly. He decided he wanted Kabaji's shirt off now, flicking his fingers across the buttons and then sliding his hand over his chest again. With feathery touches, he glazed over his pectorals, touching over one of his nipples and rubbing it softly. His other arm laid slack against the blankets, enjoying the helplessness most of his body was under.
He let him, the slim fingers trailing across his body making his heart beat a tattoo rhythm on the inside of his breastbone. He pecked his lips a final time, then trailed his lips down his chest. They brushed across his nipple, tongue followed and rubbed across the now-hard bud.
He breathed softly in want. God, Kabaji was a natural at this. He knew just how to make Atobe's heart soar. He wanted to arch up to his tongue, but his body's soreness forbade him. Feeling somewhat limited now, Atobe gently removed one sleeve from the larger one's arm, exposing more dark skin to him.
Kabaji paused a moment to shrug the sleeves of the shirt off. Wondering if he would be reprimanded for this, and yet not really caring if he was, he lightly closed his teeth around the skin, a gentle nip.
A soft whimper sounded. Atobe threaded his fingers in Kabaji's short hair. "Munehiro... Where on earth did you learn all these tricks...?" He smiled in bliss.
"I didn't," he murmured softly. "I'm just experimenting." He bit again, slightly harder this time.
That one hurt a little. He whimpered again. "Damn good experimenting... mmh..."
Kabaji felt him wince away and eased up a little, knowing he had hurt him. He gave a soft thanks and apology, kissing the skin before taking it back in and suckling gently.
"God, your tongue..." Atobe breathed softly. If he wasn't aroused before, he certainly was now. He slid his hand over the muscular arm at his side, stroking lovingly over it.
An electric tingle shot down his spine at the half-moaned words. He pulled away and rested a hand on his stomach, away from a bruise near his side. Fingers brushed the hard lines, he kissed Atobe's collarbone.
He could tell Kabaji was crazy about his body. He never figured someone so large would adore someone as small and sleek and slender as himself. Atobe smiled and pushed that random thought aside—he certainly didn't mind. The captain ran his fingers through the boy's hair again, then went back to rub his shoulder.
Kabaji hesitantly moved his hand lower, just into the seam of skin where his leg joined the rest of his body. Just close enough to feel the hard flesh through his pants with the tips of his fingers. He gave Atobe a look that asked permission. The hand on his shoulder seemed to tighten a little, or was that just his imagination?
He gazed back, a soft moan issuing from his lips, and gave him an encouraging nod. His blue eyes glittered with the orange-purple remains of the sunset. Atobe was a little surprised that the boy, who, just moments ago was pure as snow, was wanting to touch all of him. He HAD wanted more—he applauded Kabaji in his mind for being so daring, so forward, so perfect in his role.
His hand easily fit around the lump; he gave it an experimental squeeze. Was it his own desire to be close to Atobe that was making him do this, he wondered? He decided it was that, and his longing to take away all of his pain, if only for tonight.
Atobe choked on a gasp of pleasure. He could hardly wait for Kabaji to touch him directly. "M-Munehiro..." he panted softly. The leg that hadn't been injured shifted slightly, grazing Kabaji's inner thigh.
Kabaji's heart gave a strangely painful lurch at the wanton sound. Again...? He wondered why it sounded like a question in his mind. He tightened his grip again, aware of Atobe's leg steadily riding up his.
He moaned louder this time. He took hold of Kabaji's other hand, guiding it to the zipper on the plaid uniform pants. It took a great deal of strength to not move around too much, but he had to keep flat on his back so the wounds wouldn't flare up. Atobe's leg moved up again.
What he wanted was clear. Kabaji moved his other hand away and flicked the fly down, very carefully lifting him up to ease his pants off. The thought occurred to him suddenly that this was the first time he had ever seen Atobe unclothed. He was, in a word, beautiful. His body, though clearly male, had a strange feminine touch to it that made it just that much more alluring. His heart drummed against his ribcage, hand slinking back down to wrap his hand around the hardened flesh.
He squeezed his eyes together in painful pleasure, panting at a quicker pace. His heart practically burst from his chest with each thump. "Munehiro—" he breathed enticingly, sweat starting to bead on his damaged body. Atobe was hot; really hot. Kabaji was only making him ten times hotter.
Atobe's halfway-to-begging expression was eating away his restraint. He rubbed his thumb over the hot skin, feeling an answering throb against his palm and fingers.
He whimpered needily, interrupted by short gasps. Legs stretched uncomfortably below him, wanting desperately to arch his waist into Kabaji's strong hand. Fingertips clenched into the pillow beneath his head to keep him down. Another strong pulse.
Kabaji leaned over him and kissed him passionately, giving another squeeze and a gentle tug. The worn fingerpads trailed absently up the underside.
Atobe happily accepted the liplock, his moans now muffled to prevent any nearby maids from hearing. His room, though spacious and nearly soundproof, still had its limits. The senior obediently came into Kabaji's waiting hand, legs relaxing under him again.
The junior felt him slacken and took his hand away, opening his eyes and pulling away from the kiss for air. Atobe looked so... vulnerable. Head tipped back slightly, quivering, breath coming in foggy pants and closed eyes leaking with a few pleasured tears. And yet he could make even that look beautiful. Kabaji pecked his bottom lip. "Okay...?"
He drew a sharp breath, opening his eyes and smiling. "Yeah... I'm fine..."
He smiled back. "Good." Kabaji swiped the tears away from his eyes, mindful of the bruised one.
"Munehiro... do you plan to continue?" he asked with slight hope. He tried not to wince at the soft touch.
"Do you want me to?" Honestly, he didn't mind.
He nodded, blushing faintly. "I want to be yours... Please take me..."
Kabaji eyed the bruises with concern. "Will you be alright if I do?"
He nodded again. "Take my pain away."
Kabaji nodded and unzipped his pants, stripping them off and laying them to the side. He pressed up against Atobe's entrance with the pad of his middle finger. "You're tensing up, Atobe," he noted.
Atobe winced at the thick digit bearing heavily on him. "How should I relax?" He tried to glance down, only barely glimpsing Kabaji's waist when he had removed his pants. He couldn't see too well without straining himself, but he was positive Kabaji was hard—and the size of his manhood from a brief glance was anything but average. His heart lurched painfully.
"However you normally do, I guess..." If he was tensing, it had to hurt. Or at least be uncomfortable. Kabaji looked around the bedside tables. "Do you have any hand lotion or something in one of those drawers?"
He shook his head. "No, I don't want you to use anything. This will make me stronger." He forced his body to relax more.
"I don't want to break you." Kabaji stopped and looked him in the eye.
"I want you to. Take me as I am, and let me be yours. Please, Munehiro?" He looked at him right back, expression hopeful and wanting, but also steely and unmoving.
He couldn't refuse. It simply wasn't in his nature. He nodded, but still looked a little worried all the same. "Okay... relax, then." He placed his free hand over Atobe's heart. Somehow, that almost did the trick. Atobe's body fell slack, almost completely free of tension. He gazed up desirably at his face. Kabaji pressed the digit in carefully, watching Atobe's expression. It was nothing but heat and fluttering pressure for him, but he half-pondered what the other was feeling. He gently moved deeper, a little tiny bit at a time.
Reedy moans sounded from his throat. Oh god, that really was uncomfortable. Still, he refused to stop it. More, more he begged. Legs shifted upward against his thighs again, fingers clenching the pillow tightly. Eyes squeezed shut, he pictured Kabaji holding him, kissing him, touching him.
Kabaji quirked the finger lightly against the wall, inching upward. "Still feeling okay?"
Atobe whimpered, giving him a shaky nod. His whole body quivered lightly.
He could feel the captain's heart beating double-time under his fingertips. Slowly, he pressed a second digit up, stretching him. Kabaji was quite sure he'd feel this tomorrow, no matter what he said otherwise.
He grew louder, a long, needy sound echoing from his beautiful vocal cords. It was probably the most fluid and most enticing sound he had made all evening. Just wait 'till I can breathe normally... he promised Kabaji in his head. I won't be so helpless next time...
"Doesn't hurt?" he asked, working inside with difficulty. Atobe was human, his body had human limits, and he was just barely inside those limits.
He panted sharply. "Y-yes... hurts... don't stop..."
Kabaji bit his lip. "Are you sure?" Unknowingly, he brushed up against a certain spot on Atobe's insides.
Another gasp. His body relaxed slightly. "Mm... I'm sure..." he panted quickly, pained tears beaded at the corners of his eyes. "Don't stop—until I'm yours..."
He sighed. "Mm." Kabaji carefully pulled away his fingers and carefully positioned Atobe. He pressed up against him again, firmly, gazing down at him. This was his last chance to change his mind and save himself some pain...
With the much larger object intruding his entrance, Atobe's face grew much more pained. He gasped sharply, loudly, wanting Kabaji's lips to pacify him.
He moved closer to reach his lips, the motion burying him a little further in, stretching the captain painfully. Kabaji closed his mouth over Atobe's.
Atobe whimpered into his mouth, nipping lustfully at his tongue. He drew his arms around Kabaji's neck, holding him close against him. Move, he pleaded, move!
He stroked his hair and thrust deep, which made him lightheaded with a spike of pleasure. He felt the heat, and the tight, rippling pressure that made his heart and stomach flip. Kabaji moved again, wanting to savor the feeling, and kissed him fervently.
The senior ignored the stinging in his face, too busy pacifying himself with the wonderful, heated kisses. He flitted one hazy blue eye open, melting as he watched Kabaji kiss him back. He closed it again, forcing himself to lie still as the raven-haired boy pumped into him. His rhythm was flawless.
Kabaji's breath was short and clipped, he watched Atobe with a glazed expression. Every small shift made his lips twist and a small gasp come from the back of his throat. He picked up his pace slightly, still taking care not to strain Atobe's body.
Atobe choked again, gasping loudly from the pleasure while trying to get more oxygen. Just a little more... He clutched Kabaji's head with one hand, the other digging into his back until his knuckles turned white. His head craned back as he released another long, needy moan.
He could feel nails in his back and every muscle in the boy's body trembling violently. He himself was dangerously close to reaching his own limit. Bracing himself on one hand, he wrapped the other around Atobe's length; it was hot and beating like a second heart. Knowing time was almost up, Kabaji thrust and squeezed again, distantly willing him to come.
He obeyed, howling passionately as he spilled onto Kabaji's hand once more. He gasped, waiting anxiously for the other's seed to fill him.
Kabaji swallowed as the body below him tensed, bringing him to his own release. Before he could fall on Atobe, he braced himself on the sheets with his hands, panting slowly and deeply and a bead of sweat running down his temple. When the strength came back to his limbs, he raised his head and gazed at the captain.
He was gazing at him, tiredly, lovingly; sweat trickled down his red, panting cheeks. His waist hurt more than it ever had before—but it was worth it. Every last bit of it. Atobe tried to settle down and catch his breath again. "M-Munehiro..." he panted affectionately.
The boy pulled away, awkwardly leaning down to kiss him one more time on the lips. "How do you feel?"
"Sore... Just sore... I feel blood..."
Thinking back... Kabaji cast a glance down, pressing his lips together when he saw the stains on the sheets. "I'm sorry..."
"Is there...?"
"Yes." What else could he say?
Atobe couldn't help but let out a soft, strained chuckle. "Why do I feel so much stronger...? At least... At least I'm yours now... How lucky..."
Kabaji gave him a soft smile and moved to the side, gently scooting him away from the stains and drawing the sheets over them both. "You should sleep. We'll talk in the morning."
He felt himself pressed close to Kabaji's body, sighing with a sense of relief and security. Tired fingertips stroked over the brown-haired boy's chest. Atobe decided he was too tired to ask what Kabaji wanted to talk about, letting himself drift off in his arms. His breathing grew softer, gradually more even.
He decided it was a great feeling, having a smaller body huddled up close to his, slowly falling asleep with the most content look in the world. This was Atobe as only he could see him, and he was very touched by the gesture. Kabaji's arms wrapped around him and held him gently, and soon he too fell asleep.
Morning eventually greeted the boys through the grand windows, bright, beautiful rays of light streaming onto them. Soft hands continued to rub Kabaji's chest as the captain slumbered. A small pang of soreness caused his body to flinch, forcing his eyes to bat open and see the wonderful man holding him. Despite his body feeling even worse than the day before, he had never felt happier or more empowered. Atobe painfully reached up and kissed Kabaji's collarbone, softly, repeatedly.
His eyes flicked open halfway and gazed at the boy. Kabaji rubbed his back gently and smiled, whispering a quiet, "Good morning, Keigo," to him. He was feeling better than he normally was, if slightly more sticky. Nothing a bath couldn't fix, though.
"Morning, Munehiro... Did you sleep well...?" Atobe's wind had finally returned, it seemed. He wasn't struggling to speak anymore.
"Yes... Did you?"
"Very..." he purred. He nuzzled lightly into Kabaji's throat. "What did you need to talk about...?"
"Nothing... Are you feeling any better?"
"Hardly... I can talk alright but my body feels worse than it did. At least it's a little progress..." he smiled.
"Would you like a bath?" Kabaji combed his fingers through Atobe's hair.
"Please," he purred and closed his eyes. "Will you carry me? I'm probably going to skip school today anyway..."
"That's a good idea... Do you want me to stay with you?" Kabaji carefully wormed his hands under Atobe and picked him up, freeing himself from the tangle of sheets and making his way to the washroom. He set Atobe on the edge of the bath and ran the water.
"I'd honestly prefer you went to class and got my notes, but I certainly have no objections to you skipping with me. It's up to you, Munehiro."
Kabaji nodded, setting Atobe into the warm water. "I'll go. I don't mind." He slipped in after the captain—there was plenty of space, and he needed to clean up anyway.
Atobe pointed to the glass cabinets right above the tub. "Could you get the herbal bath salts? I want the Jasmine." He sank deeper into the tub, watching Kabaji's form as he moved. It was lovely... large, gentle, and lovely, he mused to himself. "Very well then... You'll be coming back, won't you?"
"Of course." Kabaji reached up and took down the container, handing it to Atobe before sinking low in the water to soak.
The senior smiled and poured a cup of the small rocks into the tub. Instantly, the aroma wrapped around both boys, the texture relaxing his worn body. "Oh, Kabaji... I have one more favor I want to ask you..."
"What is it?" He reached for the soap and lathered his hands, running them down the captain's back gently.
"Will you be my bodyguard until I can defend myself?"
He smiled lightly and cupped water over the now-clean back, watching the dirt and soap stream down. "Yes, I will."
"Thank you..." he sighed softly, half with relief and half with disappointment. "I guess I can't train by myself at lunch anymore... Not like that freak accident would happen again, but..."
"I could always go with you," he pointed out.
"I'd hate to starve you for my own selfish needs," Atobe turned and smiled at him.
"That's kind of you." He smiled back.
"Mm... I just have to think of a different time to better myself. It's not a big deal." Atobe scooted back, resting against Kabaji's slick chest and reaching up to hold his cheek in his palm.
Kabaji closed his hand over Atobe's and smiled. "It isn't."
"By the way... Thank you for last night... It was wonderful..." Atobe leaned up, kissing the boy's throat before settling down in his lap again.
"You're welcome." He stroked over the hand gently.
"I hope it was wonderful for you too. I love you." he smiled and closed his eyes.
"It was... and I love you too." A soft smile turned the corners of his lips up. He stroked Atobe's hair and closed his eyes contently.