Title: Moments in Time
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: R
Pairing: Multiple
Disclaimer: SO not mine.
Comments: Random. Very, very random.







The wisps of smoke curled softly around his face, framing it, touching it, drifting away. He hated the smell of cigarette smoke.

The grass under his bare back, white school uniform hiked up to his armpits, was rough and scratching. Nothing like in romance novels, where the blades, ironically, felt like fur, and the fucking leaned more towards loving.

The sun above burned him all over. He felt pink under the light, naked (not that he wasn't) (almost) and like a child in the waves, floating, bobbing, circled by sharks.

And still- that damned cigarette smoke. He coughed violently.

Shove. Shove. Shove. Back and forth he was hurtled across the green green grass, pulled back and slammed forward again. Impeccable white uniforms were regrettably marred with earth-stains; the inside of them embittered with hot bodily fluids. Nothing about this was loving. Nothing about it felt good.

He was finished. The thrusting stopped with a jerk and a shivering, then, sighing and standing, he zipped up his pants and flicked away the cigarette butt. The sun made his hair glow, awfully bright. The grass stains hadn't seemed to reach the white-white of his own uniform. He was... untouchable, in a bastardly way.

"Now will you shut up?"

Sengoku flinched and forced a smile. "Sure. But you could've asked nicer."

Akutsu shrugged, his uncaring evil angel. "I don't ask. I take."

"That's right." Sengoku tried but failed to rectify his own disheveled uniform. Two different zippers were broken. He hated that, really, he did.



-----



Gakuto popped the bubbles that drifted by him, floating along quietly on the bath-water's surface. His magenta hair was plastered, sopping wet, to his forehead and cheeks. Drops of water ran down the sleek skin to his eyes, but the lashes caught them and deftly deflected their journey to the sides. The boy reached over the tub edge and retrieved a pink bottle with strawberries plastered all over it. He slowly, leisurely, emptied more bubble bath into the hot stream of water gushing from the facet at his feet. Leaning back in the tub, he waited, and waited, and ten minutes later, was happily drowning in great tall mountains of pink bubbles, swallowing him whole, hiding his naked, gleaming body from the curious eyes of old family portraits on the wall. He vaguely hoped that his doubles partner would be in the mood for a good fuck the next day. Oshitari never seemed to pick the right days- the ones right after Gakuto had bathed in the tub and smelled like strawberries.



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Kamio placed the last clip into Shinji's hair, beaming with pride at this finishing touch. He had succeeded in transforming his best friend into a rather passable, if sullen, version of Tachibana An, complete with Adidas sport dress and raven hair pulled back with heart-shaped clips.

Shinji looked at him with a blank stare and slightly flushed cheeks. "Now will you have sex with me?" The words were (typically) quiet and fell lifelessly onto the bed they both perched on, consumed by a ravenous comforter. Kamio looked away, to the wall, and stared hard at it, unconsciously counting the bogeys his little brother had flicked onto the white-washed plaster.

"Yeah. But you gotta remember what I said! Don't keep your voice so low, and don't grunt or anything... you're a girl, remember? Not a boy. Because we're NOT gay." Kamio didn't sound so convinced himself.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever." Shinji dismissed these demands as easily as he rid Kamio of his shirt, leaning quite suddenly forward and latching onto those quickly twittering lips with a tangible, long-suppressed hunger. The fan above beat slowly around, feeding the fire with dull air. The room still felt hot.

Kamio broke the kiss only long enough to say "An's dress!" when Shinji had eagerly removed it and pitched it behind him, over his shoulder, where it unfortunately landed in a grimy fishtank. The raven-haired second year allowed for no more protests, keeping his best friend from sucking in life-sustaining oxygen by sucking that wet tongue into his own mouth, so hard that Kamio nearly choked. They both ignored the fact that neither knew what they were doing, and were awkwardly silent the next day at practice when their buchou asked for an explanation of such large and colorful hickeys in such random places.



-----




God, it was awful. Horrible, just wretchedly disgusting, beyond repulsion.

He closed the doors to his sempai's wardrobe quickly. But even still, faced with nothing but carved mahogany, the image of flamingly hot pink roses burned into his retina underneath closed lids. He shook his head violently, but the offensive blouses remained.

"Yuuta-kun, quit convulsing, if you're /that/ jealous, you can borrow one or two anytime." That sweet voice, those sugary words, they cut at his nervous system like knives through barbed wire. He forced himself to turn towards his sempai with a smile.

"N- no, no thank you..." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "But you're right, you have very nice... taste... in clothing." The lies. The lies! He could just see, in the back of his mind, his religious father bitch-slapping him with a giant rosary. But what was so hard about lying to Mizuki, agreeing that his sempai had impeccable taste in... blouses? He'd lived with Aniki, hadn't he? Aniki wore the damn weirdest outfits.

"Of course." Mizuki replied smoothly, stroking his tawny cat languidly. His room smelled of far too many different candles burned all at once, clashing together, weaving a sick scent. Yuuta vaguely wondered why he'd agreed to come over. "They're all fine silk. From China." He offered the cat to Yuuta to pet, holding it out by the thing's armpits. It glowered.

Yuuta anxiously moved forward. It took him a good thirty seconds to work up the nerve to touch it. It bit him right away.



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Akazawa pressed his ear up against the wall of his dorm room, straining to hear the heated, romantic whispers on the other side. He abruptly pulled away when a heavy object (most likely a body) was slammed up against the opposite side, then again, and again, accompanied by moans, and retreated to his dorm-mate's bed when he was one-hundred percent sure that Kisarazu and Yanagisawa were indeed having sex approximately eleven feet away. He put on his headphones, playing the music as loud as it would go, and alternately hoped that they didn't move from the wall to Yanagisawa's dorm-mate's bed, which, although conveniently close, happened to be Yuuta's.



-----




Eiji clawed at the towel draped around Kaidou's neck, making pitiful little mewing noises. Kaidou obediently pushed harder.




-----



Two hours later, Eiji threw his long arms around Inui's neck and tightened them further, gasping, face red. Inui planted deep, pressing, insistent kisses on the slender neck. Both of their pants were abandoned on the locker room floor. Violent thrusting died down quite suddenly to a spasmodic twitching on both of their parts with Eiji crying out "hoi hoi hoi hooiii hoi HOI HOI HOI HOI NYAH--!!!" and Inui grunting and groaning and Kaidou, watching, hissing in the corner at such obviously over-dramatic orgasms.



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"WHAT?!" Tomoko's voice rang out over the bobbing dark heads of the five o'clock subway crowd. Lights flashed and an electronic voice boomed out of loudspeakers, warning the arrival of the train. People jostled each other for the front, wanting a seat or good standing spot. "WHAT WHAT WHAT?! What do you mean, 'Ryoma asked you out'?! MY Ryoma?!!" Her face was contorted with fury.

Sakuno cowered, backing up till she nearly fell off the edge. "I'm s-s-so s-sorry Tomoko-chan..." She sobbed.

The train was drawing closer. People pressed up against them, anxiously awaiting the sliding doors and ten-minute trip to downtown Tokyo.

Tomoko was screeching now in uncontrolled rage. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'D DO THIS TO ME! I DON'T UNDERSTAND! WE WERE FRIENDS, SAKUNO-!!!" Her voice, which had been deftly climbing octaves, abruptly halted its descent as she reached a point in her emotional outpour that left her at a loss for words.

The train was rushing towards them, but something was wrong. This was not the right one, this one was headed North. The overhead voice, booming from wall-speakers, informed them of the schedule. The next train was theirs. This one was just passing through, at eighty miles an hour.

Rushing. Hurtling.

"I..." Tomoko trembled. Sakuno stared, in awe. Like a deer in headlights, too dumb to move.

"I HATE YOU!!" Tomoko snapped, and unable to control herself, shoved Sakuno away from her. Clumsy feet failed to find a grip on the concrete, and two brown braids lashed the air as the young girl fell. Fell down, down, down, and hurtling forward, horn blaring, lights blinding, she was gone. The train erased her, just like that, the people had no time to scream. Not at eighty miles an hour.

A tall, pale boy in the back, having watched the entire scenario in amusement, laughed, laughed and flicked a still burning cigarette into the stunned masses. A redhead, just behind him, never saw a thing, too busy trying to fix a broken pant zipper.





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END






Comments: Will update soon. Check back for more randomness... XD I always update my livejournal first, look for the username /xiaoyin.

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