Block

It was hot. In more ways than one.

The sun and the humidity had forced them off the temple court and into the shade of the nearby temple porch where they sat on the floor. His shirt was hitched up around his chest and Ryoma's small hands were tentatively padding about in curiosity. Brushing, kneading, stroking across his stomach and chest. Skin against skin, sweating lightly, panting in the afternoon heat, his sharp intake of breath as Ryoma scratched across his nipple.

His kouhai smiled and brushed his fingers over his chest again moving closer to him. 'Ne, Echizen, come here.' Momo patted his lap invitingly. Echizen straddled his lap and Momo raised his knees so the boy slid forward, and they pressed groin to groin. He brushed Echizen's damp hair away from his forehead revealing his dark slanted gaze.

Echizen's face was slightly flushed and his lips wet and panting. Momoshiro was dying to press his lips the Echizen's, but they hadn't quite made it there yet. It was a little strange. He had thought the kissing would come first, but Ryoma never did things the same way as other people.

The majority of their mutual experience was limited to light petting and rubbing. He had been resolute in his determination to let Echizen set the pace of their exploration. Over three months everyone on the regular's team was pretty much okay with the situation, but he still felt that any perceived pressure from him onto Echizen would cast him down in the eyes of Tezuka.

He was content with the feel of Echizen's body on top of his. The gentle weight across his chest, the pressure on his hips, and the gentle rub of his cloth covered erection against Echizen's. He slipped his hands under Ryoma's shirt rubbing across the small of his back, up to his shoulders and back down again. He gently pushed Ryoma back so he rested against his bent knees leaving his chest open to exploration.

Momo slid the shirt up Ryoma's stomach with both hands feathered like a butterfly. His fingers long enough to span the narrow width of the boy's chest. He was a little surprised when his kouhai ducked his head allowing him to take the shirt off and toss it aside. 'Hn.'

'What?' Ryoma lazily questioned.

Momo smiled at the younger boy and traced the white lines of his body. 'You have t-shirt tan,' he chuckled good naturedly.

Echizen leaned forward and tugged his shirt over his head in a rough motion. 'Ha, so do you.'

'So desu ne,' he replied at the exposure of his tan lines. He leaned forward and placed a small kiss at the base of his neck and was encouraged when Ryoma's head rolled back to open itself for more.

With a grunt he hauled the small body towards him, grinding the small hips against his throbbing erection, thrilled at his sudden cry. 'Sempai!'

'Ryoma, Ryoma... I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?' he muttered pressing his lips feverishly to the boy's neck. Ryoma licked his lips and perched his arms around his neck. His kouhai pressed lips to lips with an exaggerated accuracy that made him chuckle.

'Hey, Sempai.' Ryoma pulled away, 'don't laugh.'

'Sorry, Echizen you're funny.'

'I don't see how I'm funny,' he replied crossing his arms in front of his bare chest.

'I meant funny cute,' he amended.

'I don't see—' he cut his complaint off by pressing his lips against the younger boys and gently sliding their bodies closer. Bare chest to bare chest, he felt a hand trail up his side and wrap around his shoulders. He laved his wet tongue along the bottom of Ryoma's lips and was pleased when the boy gently tilted his head into Momo's supporting hand and hesitantly parted his mouth. Momo swept his tongue into his kouhai's mouth and felt a response to his ministrations.

His hands tightened in black hair increasing the feverish pace of the kisses, teeth clacked together roughly at moments. Momo broke away with a cry as Ryoma drove his hips against his erection in an effort to relieve his tension. With hot breath panting in his ear and a death grip bearing into his shoulders, Momo pressed back up against the boy's hips exciting a small whimper from the shaking boy. Awkwardly he struggled to get his arm free and get it between them to stroke Ryoma, but it was impossible in their current position. He grabbed Ryoma by the hips, brushing his fingers over his beloved mole, and pushed him back between his legs until he lay on the wooden porch in only his black shorts.

'Momo, what... ungh' Ryoma's head rolled aside in pleasure as he firmly stroked his large hand over the cloth covering the boy's erection.

He lay down beside Ryoma one leg over his, his head propped up on his elbow, his back hot in the sun. He lent over to suckle on a pink nipple briefly before returning to lips that opened readily. Absorbed by the wet slide of tongue against tongue, his body was struck rigid when the freezing water hit his back and splashed over his head.

'Oi, oi, oi, what's going on here shōnen?'

Echizen Nanjiroh.

'Shit! Ryoma... I think we're cursed.'

**

Momo gently but repeatedly thumped his head against the wall. Stupid, stupid, stupid... who's idea had it been to make out in the temple grounds that Echizen's father worked in? Why, when everything was going so well did they have to be sprung again. Considering their current track record of being caught at precisely the wrong moment, Momo was certain they could never attempt to have sex, for fear of being caught.

He would've left father and son to argue, expect that he had resolutely been told to sit down and keep quiet.

'Why?!' Nanjiroh wailed.

'I like Momo-sempai.' This earned him a glare from Nanjiroh. 'You just don't want me to like anything but tennis.'

'That's not true boy. I want you to like tennis and girls.' Ryoma scowled. 'Maybe we should tell your mother?'

'No!'

'Well, I'm not mature enough to deal with this,' Nanjiroh whinged to his son who only shook his head. 'Are you sure you don't like girls?'

'Yes, I'm sure.'

'Well, I forbid you to see this man-child.' Nanjiroh gestured in his direction.

'Fine, I quit tennis,' Ryoma replied.

'No!' Nanjiroh yelped in protest. 'Oi, oi, oi shōnen, that's not fair.'

'Neither is forbidding me to see Momoshiro.'

Nanjiroh growled in frustration. 'Fine, you can see boys, but why don't you date one of the better tennis players?'

'Hey,' Momoshiro protested the slight.

'Like Fuji-san or Tezuka-san...'

'Hey,' Momo protested a little louder.

'Or the Fudomine kid who sliced your eye.'

Silence.

'Oi, Ryoma—'

'Oh yeah... I don't like Fuji or Tezuka, or Ibu Shinji. I like Momoshiro.'

'Well, he's not good enough at tennis... and... and he's too old for you.'

'Oi, I'm only a year older.'

Nanjiroh paused and looked at him 'He lies, Ryoma. Do you want to date a boy who lies?'

'He's not lying, Otōsan.'

This garnered him one more glance. 'What are they feeding you boy? ...never mind... This one's your choice?'

'Hai.'

Nanjiroh frowned and studied his son. Nanjiroh glared and studied Momoshiro. The retired tennis pro shrugged helplessly.

'Momoshiro, if you can take a point from me I'll forget all about what I have seen, and you can go on secretly dating my son.' Nanjiroh grinned madly at him, before leaping to his feet and running off to grab his racquet.

Momo let his gaze slide to Ryoma's. 'Uh, Echizen, wasn't your old man a pro tennis player?'

'Hai, second seed when he retired.'

'Hey, he retired from an injury right?'

'No, no injuries.'

'But you beat him sometimes, right?'

'I've won a couple sets.'

'There's no way for me to get a point is there?'

'Sure there is,' Ryoma smiled at him.

'Really, how?' Momo lent in closer.

'He didn't put a time limit on you to win the point, so wait until he's old... and maybe blind, or in a wheel chair. I'm pretty sure you can do it then.'

Ryoma handed him his racquet and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. 'Ganbatte, Momoshiro-kun.'