Disclaimer: I don't own Galactik Football, I'm making no profit off this story and I don't claim that the events represented in this story are canon. It's just my look at what could have been happening off-screen when Rocket was playing Netherball.

Summary: Non-con slash, Rocket x Sinedd, Rocket x Tia, may disturb some readers. Sinedd comes up with a strategy.

Netherworld: Half Time

Sinedd had subdued into a sort of seething quiescence, his muscles taut with anger as he lay beneath Rocket. Hatred radiated from him like the Smog, an invisible cloud of fury that hissed out from the pores of his skin and the slits of his eyes. Rocket fancied that he could taste it on his tongue as he bit hungry kisses to Sinedd's throat, the pale column starkly corded with muscle and Sinedd's pulse erratic against Rocket's lips.

"Is this how you do it with Tia too?" Sinedd asked, gathering his resistance together again. He couldn't fight Rocket outright, but he could distract him. Delay him. Play for time so that he could come up with a better plan. "Hold her down, make her take it, stuff a pillow over her face if she screams?"

"No." A one-word answer, Rocket licking at the bite marks he'd just made and burying his nose in the crook of Sinedd's throat and shoulder where the scent of his skin was strongest. Sinedd smelled indisputably male, bare skin and the breathable material of the football costumes mingled together, overlaid with sweat and the sharp, acrid Smog. Tia smelled of the first two, but never the last two. She was always showered and clean when she and Rocket made love; she smelled of the soap she liked, something as sharp and invigorating as lemons, like ozone and ice, like the Breath. Not better than Sinedd, but easier. The soap accentuated her natural scent, instead of obscuring it the way that the Smog did for Sinedd.

Rocket blew on Sinedd's skin, as if blowing the Smog away, and felt a terrible, tender urge to tear the Smog out of Sinedd. Tender, because underneath the Smog, Rocket knew that there was an Akillian boy like him; terrible, because the Smog was part of Sinedd now and to take it from him would hurt Sinedd (and Rocket knew that he'd enjoy hurting Sinedd).

With that in mind, Rocket added, "I love her, and she loves me. She always wants me."

Teeth gritted, Sinedd endured Rocket's touch. Rocket had answered his question too calmly, even if he'd been distracted from molesting Sinedd into just cuddling him. Rocket's words were a welcome distraction. It gave Sinedd something to think about other than the heavy weight of Rocket's muscled body on his own. "Yeah? Then why are you here with me?"

"I told you." The words were almost absent-minded as Rocket shifted over Sinedd, sliding a little further up on his chest. His eyes seemed almost glazed over, like toffees sticky and shining wet from being in someone's mouth. "I won."

"Congratulations." The word was bitter in Sinedd's mouth, and he twisted his head to the side to avoid Rocket's attempt to kiss him. "Go celebrate with her. She's your girlfriend."

"Not anymore." Softly though the words were spoken, they were like a death sentence to Sinedd. Rocket used his free hand to undo the clasps on Sinedd's shoulders, guessing correctly that the hidden zippers would be located along the seams, just like they were for the Snow Kid's costume. "I left her behind when I left Galactik Football."

His eyes stayed fixed on the bloodied red of Sinedd's mouth, and the occasional glimpse of white, white teeth that could be seen when Sinedd tried not to cringe. "I only have Netherball now."

A smile that was almost dreamy in its contentment, "And you."

"You don't have me." Sinedd contradicted Rocket, the rush of cool air against his shoulders making him tense as Rocket pushed the top of the uniform off his shoulders. He felt like a stupid schoolgirl whose boyfriend was trying to get her out of her dress while she protested; that thought was responsible for the bite in Sinedd's voice. "I'm not your girlfriend. I don't even like you."

"I know." Rocket smiled, and the way that he didn't seem even slightly disturbed by that made Sinedd's insides clench hard, "But it's better like this."

Games, in the Sphere, were more like fights. Matches were closer to gladiatorial bouts of combat. Of course Sinedd wouldn't be like Tia, spreading her legs with a laugh and eagerly pulling Rocket down for slow, sweet, endless kisses. Sinedd was like Netherball, fierce and dangerous and a fighter to the end.

That was what his mockery was about, after all. Rocket knew that Sinedd didn't actually care whether Rocket was cheating on Tia or not. Sinedd was just trying to find Rocket's weak spots to exploit them. Just like in a Netherball match, where you watched the defenders to see if they favored their left or right side, and then aimed where they were slowest to react.

Rocket didn't begrudge Sinedd his words. They were just words. They had no power over him. And Rocket, while Sinedd talked, could enjoy slowly revealing more of Sinedd's skin. The top was halfway down Sinedd's chest, and his pale nipples fascinated Rocket. They were small compared to Rocket's, positioned above the line of muscle and looked deliciously like cherries on whipped cream. Except not as red. Instead, the circles of the aureoles were a light pink, as if someone had gently dabbed them with strawberry juice and waited for it to dry. The nipples themselves were small, hard nubs of a darker, desaturated pink-grey and Rocket couldn't resist the urge to bring his free hand down to pinch one, trapping it between his index finger and thumb, feeling the ridges of flesh for a moment between pressing down hard.

Sinedd cried out sharply, instinctively trying to press into the mattress, "Don't--" He started to say before he cut himself off. He wouldn't beg. He wouldn't ask for mercy that wouldn't come. But it had hurt and now, blood was rushing back there, stinging it to the same redness as his mouth.

"Shhhh." As if feeling guilty for what he'd done, Rocket bent his head and with the greatest of care, licked at the small, abused nipple. The soft, wet licks only took only flicks of his tongue, and Rocket enjoyed the springness of the nipple, how he could push it away and then have it press into his tongue. This was almost like Tia, except the presentation was different. With Tia, it was like the nipple was presented for his attention as the cherry on top of a pudding. Sinedd was flat, the pectorals of his body nowhere near as curved as Tia's breasts. Rubies on a marble platter, and the analogy felt right for how cold and unyielding Sinedd was underneath him, even as Sinedd's nipples tightened and the pain began to pass from him.

Having his nipple pinched had hurt Sinedd, but the grotesque salaciousness of Rocket licking at it felt like more of a violation. Rocket wasn't allowed to hurt him and then make it better. It was too close to how Rocket had broken (except not really) his ankle and then bandaged it. Confusing. Not fair -- not that Sinedd played fair, but nobody expected him to, and everyone expected Rocket to play fair…

Sinedd stared at the door determinedly, body as unyielding as if he were carved out of rock, refusing to watch Rocket at work. Maybe if he didn't look, it would be easier to block out the physical proof of Rocket's arousal, the hard length pressing against Sinedd's stomach in a way that would've been uncomfortable if Sinedd had been in any sort of position to care about such trivialities.

Rocket didn't care that Sinedd was ignoring him. He was too busy making sure that Sinedd's other nipple didn't feel left out, taking little nibbled bites at Sinedd's skin every so often just to make sure that his chest tasted as good as his throat had. Smooth skin stretched finely over hard muscles, and Sinedd was so pale that he had no tan lines at all. Growing up in Akillian, people rarely tanned except on the face, where the outline of sunglasses would be paler than the rest of the skin, but Sinedd was equally pale everywhere.

Rocket loved it. The Galactik Cup was without flaws either, as if it had grown organically in that shape instead of being moulded. Netherball's prize was just as good as that of Galactik Football's.

Stoically, Sinedd kept his eyes fixed on the door, blocking out the feel of Rocket's teeth scraping over his skin as his mind raced to come up with a plan. He couldn't risk fighting physically anymore. Rocket hadn't reacted to Sinedd's mention of Tia. Screaming for help wouldn't do any good. He was clearly on the defensive now; he couldn't win, all he could do was try to minimize the damage. He had a match against the Pirates tomorrow. He couldn't play on two broken ankles, or if Rocket tore him up too badly now.

Cool air struck his skin, and Sinedd glanced at Rocket without meaning to, only to see that the other boy was eyeing his wrists and the bedstead thoughtfully. It was easy to guess what Rocket had in mind and in that moment, Sinedd saw his chance.

"You don't have to tie me down." He said quickly, flexing his fingers a little but not making any move to try to break Rocket's hold on his wrists. "I won't try to run." The bitterness of his smile was set off perfectly by the red of Rocket's blood, still smeared on his lips. "You'd catch me if I tried anyway. And if you told everyone I talked you into playing Netherball, and that I've been harbouring you, I might get suspended from the League as well."

For a moment, it looked as if Rocket wouldn't buy it, the expression on his face the focused, judging one he had whenever he was going to take a free kick. He ran his fingers down Sinedd's side, mapping out the taut muscles, the drag of his fingertips nearly ticklish because of how light his touch was. "And how I do know you're not going to fight?"

"Because," Sinedd licked over his lips, tongue darting out in a swipe of brilliant red that cleaned Rocket's blood off his mouth and left his pale lips looking bloodless by contrast. He dropped his voice down low, not breathless but intent, as if he were whispering to Rocket in a crowded room, and the black of his pupils was almost liquid in its darkness. "I want to suck your cock."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Author's Note: Sorry for the lateness of this chapter! I had a LOT of Xmas stuff to write, and then RL got a little hectic too. Many thanks to Mitsuko Soma, who e-mailed me to check if I was okay, GFChamp who PMed me to ask where the next chapter is, and FemaleSpock, who reviewed old chapters to make sure I didn't forget people were waiting. I'm skipping doing individual reader responses today in favour of getting this chapter up – I figure you've waited long enough. I'm going to try to go back to updating at least once a week again. Hope you like the increased explicitness, and have fun trying to guess what Sinedd is upto!

Thanks for all the reviews. Remember, they're what keep me writing and whenever possible, I reply to them via PM or in here.