written for pillarpairweeks on tumblr
Ryoma's hands were in his hair, tugging and petting and twisting.
It was immoral. The way their mouths moved against each other. The way Ryoma set his body on fire.
Totally. Utterly. Unforgivably, Immoral.
Ryoma's fingernails ran down his spine, setting off fireworks.
Tezuka couldn't believe he was doing this. Dragging Ryoma down with him into sin and immorality.
But it felt so good…
Ryoma's hot breath against his ear as he moaned, his fingers like firebrands against his skin.
The press would have a field day if they could see this. The two new superstars of tennis locked together in each other's arms in a cheap Parisian hotel room. Tezuka had made sure to tug the stiff curtains closed before joining Ryoma on the bed so that no prying eyes could see them. Ryoma had rolled his eyes and pulled Tezuka on top of him.
And now he had Ryoma under him, all to himself. He didn't like feeling possessive -hated the cold anger that gripped him when someone got too touchy with Ryoma- but if Ryoma was giving himself over to him willingly then Tezuka was not going to say no.
Still… he knew he shouldn't.
Ryoma;s legs wrapped around Tezuka's hips and suddenly his world flipped and he was lying on the bed, Ryoma smirking above him.
"What are you worrying about?" he asked, pressing a finger to Tezuka's forhead.
"Nothing," Tezuka lied, taking ahold of Ryoma's hips, guiding them as they rutted together.
"Don't lie," Ryoma moaned, leaning down and filling Tezuka's vision. "Do you still want to do this?"
Tezuka swallowed thickly. Of course he did, his body screamed at him. Ryoma looked amazing straddling his hips, his hair sticking out at odd angles.
"I love you," Tezuka said.
Ryoma smirked, leaning over him, arms either side of his head. "I know that," he kissed him softly, "but if you don't want to have sex with me you have to tell me."
"I do," Tezuka said before the half of him screaming about immorality could take hold.
"Good," Ryoma purred, kissing him again, long and slow.
Tezuka's hands had a mind of their own as they stroked and groped their way all over Ryoma's body. He loved this man with all his heart, which was why it hurt to drag him down into his own immorality.
Something must have shown in Tezuka's body language because Ryoma pushed away from him and glared.
"Tell me, Buchou."
Tezuka sighed, his eyes focusing on the crack in the ceiling above them. "You're so pure," he said, still unable to look Ryoma in the eye, "and I'm not."
Of all the reactions Tezuka had expected laughter was not one.
"You're such an idiot!" Ryoma gasped through his laughter. "Me? Pure?" he cackled.
Tezuka felt his face flush, this wasn't supposed to be something to laugh abut.
"You're so cute," Ryoma managed to gasp eventually. "But I do jerk off a lot. Thinking about you."
"I-" Tezuka started, but the words caught in is throat. Ryoma might be confident talking about these kind of things, but he wasn't! "…same," he said in a small voice, "not a lot though."
Ryoma placed his mouth next to his ear. "Buchou jerking off? Now that's something I need to see."
"Ryoma," Tezuka breathed, turning his head to kiss Ryoma;s jaw.
"Kunimitsu, none of that purity rubbish matters," Ryoma said, "it's not real."
"It's not," Tezuka agreed.
"So stop stressing about it!"
Tezuka nodded, pulling Ryoma down onto him and hugged him tight. "'ve destroyed the mood."
Ryoma shrugged, snaking his arms under Tezuka to hug him back. "It'll come back," he kissed Tezuka's neck, "or we can stop. I don't mind."
"Thank you."
"Stupid Buchou," Ryoma sighed happily.
They stayed wrapped in each other's arms for some time, basking in each other's presence. Then, Tezuka started to get restless.
"Let's explore Paris," Ryoma said, sliding off Tezuka and going to find his shirt.
Tezuka smiled to himself, he was so lucky to have Ryoma.