The first paragraph is an extract from 50 Shades of Grey. I've never read this book before so I can't recommend nor discourage you guys from reading it. I literally just typed in "steamy scene 50 shades" and one of the links mentioned an elevator scene.
Sorry for the wait my precious babies, hope this chapter is worth it. :)
'He lunges at me, pushing me against the wall of the elevator. Before I know it, he's got both of my hands in one of his in a vice-like grip above my head, and he's pinning me to the wall using his hips. Holy shit. His other hand grabs my hair and yanks down, bringing my face up, and his lips are on mine. It's only just not painful. I moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. He takes full advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth. I have never been kissed like this. My tongue tentatively strokes his and joins his in a slow, erotic dance that's all about touch and sensation, all bump and grind. He brings his hand up to grasp my chin and holds me in place. I'm helpless, my hands pinned, my face held, and his hips restraining me. His erection-'
Rukawa snaps the book shut however by then it's too late: the damage has been done. His mind, his body, his entire being has been shocked into silence. No words pass his lips, no thought enters his brain. His body is rendered incapable of producing any movement. One could say he is as still as a statue, however "corpse" is a more befitting word to describe his catatonia.
Although he can hardly believe what he has just read, he isn't about to open the book again to confirm it.
After placing it back on the bench he cycles home in a daze. His movements are mechanical, as though his body is possessed by another. He refuses to let his mind wander to the scandalous images painted by that prose of erotica, deciding to focus on the road ahead and the periodical squeak of his pedals as he cycles home amongst Kanegawa's sparse night-time traffic.
(*Honk! Honk!* "Learn to ride a bike dumbass!")
Unfortunately that isn't working out well for him either.
Later into the night in the solace of his bedroom he realises — with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach — the implications of his daunting discovery. If the younger Akagi reads a book like this, doesn't that make her a…
No. That's impossible.
Mentally flicking through his memories of Shohoku's second team manager, Rukawa can't recall any instances of Haruko not being a paragon of virtue. Silently acknowledged by everyone on their basketball squad as a cheerful albeit slightly naive girl, everything about her screams purity. Even when flustered she paints a picture of innocence.
However, the fact that such erotic literature is in Haruko's possession is one proof too many of her perversion, completely belying her public demeanour.
His mind drifts to their most recent rooftop encounter, where she was deeply immersed in the very book he loses his sanity over. The nibbling of her lips, the rapid blinks, her gaze darting around the place, the rosy hue in her cheeks: were these all signs of her arousal?
Does she want someone to treat her the way the woman in the book was?
He finds himself picturing startled cerulean irises dilating as they stare back at him, scanning his face as he encages her against the wall with his arms—
He chokes. No. He will not go down that road.
Rukawa is too stunned by the existence of dirty thoughts in his head to berate himself for thinking that way in the first place. He's forgotten that hormones exist in everyone and it is moments like this that makes him remember he is still a sixteen year old boy riding out puberty's final waves.
It takes him time to recover from the shock of not only imagining himself be intimate with his ex-Captain's little sister, but from the small flame of desire that fuelled his fantasy. Like any normal teenager Rukawa's gaze has trailed down the dips and curves of the opposite sex before — how can he not when some parade their cleavages around? — however carnal pleasure isn't an emotion he has given much attention to; whatever inklings of lust and sexual frustrations felt are channelled into his game. He devotes his energy and emotions so wholeheartedly into basketball that he often finds himself too fatigued to do anything but rest (hence sleeping being his only other hobby).
Therefore the fact that he fantasised about a woman after years of absolute focus on basketball can only mean one thing.
He hasn't been training hard enough.
Shohoku's ace brings on the heat during the next day's training session, much to the surprise of his teammates. Forgoing dunks for off-the-dribble threes — as the latter required more technique — Rukawa is so involved in his training that he doesn't notice the stares of awe from players and supporters alike. Heck, he doesn't even hear the shrill shrieks from his group of stalkers.
Faking a dash to the right, he swiftly passes the ball between his legs and catches it with his left, ankle breaking his opponent with a crossover dribble as he makes his way to the three-point line, finishing his one-man show with a jumper and hitting nothing but net.
Ignoring the open-mouthed stares from his teammates and his fangirls' squeals, Rukawa jogs back to his end of the court to prepare for defense.
"Sorry I'm late."
He stiffens at the familiar voice. Refusing to look at the entrance - he knows she'll be there and he will not let himself be distracted - he focuses on holding up the zone.
"Would you look at that," Mitsui whistles appreciatively, looking in the forbidden direction. "One of those siblings have got to be adopted."
Ryota spares a glance at the entrance as he dribbles up to them with his practice team. "Oi focus on the game," he admonishes the senior with his practiced tone, secretly thrilled to be able to use his "captain voice" so soon.
As predicted, it has no effect on the three pointer. Instead the sharpshooter gives him a shit-eating grin, "I don't think you should be telling me that."
Rukawa's muscles tense ever-so-slightly at his sempai's retort. Forcing himself to relax, he watches the ex-gangster out of the corner of his eyes, waiting for him to explain his words. As far as the ace is concerned, he has made the effort to ignore rather than acknowledge the presence by the door. So Mitsui can't be talking about him.
To his relief, Mitsui gestures to another player on Ryota's team. Following the direction of his finger, both Ryota and Rukawa aren't particularly surprised to find themselves staring at a mop of red hair. Sighing helplessly they continue their game, ignoring Sakuragi's frozen form as the flustered rebounder devotes all his attention to the newcomer.
It is only when a ball crashes into the delinquent face-first — sending him plummeting into the ground — do they call for a break.
"Sakuragi-kun!" Haruko shrieks, concern etched onto her features as she rushes towards the player helplessly sprawled out on the floor, a ball covering his face.
"That looks pretty bad," Yasuda remarks as the younger Akagi gently lifts the ball from Sakuragi's face, revealing a stream of blood flowing from his left nostril. "He's bleeding!"
Mitsui and Ryota shake their heads at their teammate's ignorance. "That wasn't from the ball," Mitsui's tone is oddly suggestive, prompting their ace to turn to the commotion.
Rukawa swallows, involuntarily (yet oh-so-greedily) drinking in the sight of a flustered Haruko clad in tiny white shorts and a rather tight-fitting shirt with SHOHOKU printed in bold across her—
"Sakuragi-kun are you alright?" Kneeling beside the redhead, she produces a piece of tissue and proceeds to wipe residue blood from his nose.
Not eager to witness the look of complete and utter bliss on the idiot's face, Rukawa approaches the bench and grabs his towel, vigorously wiping away at the sweat droplets as he takes a swig from his water bottle. He curses to himself. Now that he isn't playing his thoughts are no longer clouded by the desire to score a basket, leaving it vulnerable to the intrusion of other, less innocent desires.
He resists the urge to look at Haruko again. Unfortunately this does little to stop his mind from occasionally wandering to images of the team manager flushed with beads of sweat rolling down her alabaster complexion as she—
"Break's over!" Ryota barks, "Time for you maggots to get back on court!"
"Why don't you just shut up and go fuck yourself?!" Mitsui's retorts instantly.
"R-rukawa-kun?" She hasn't appeared on the rooftop for so long that when he opens the door to find her sitting against the wall with a book in her hands, Rukawa makes a bee-line straight for her.
Haruko stands up, tucking her book away in her bag when she realises that — based on his unwavering gaze directed at her and his unfaltering steps — whatever he is planning on doing has everything to do with her. Like a deer caught in headlights she freezes; unable to come up with an escape plan for the 187cm wrecking ball headed in her direction. With the wall directly behind her, the last two options available are to go left or right. However at the rate that he is closing the gap between them, the opportunities for her to outmanoeuvre him are rapidly diminishing.
Only when he is a metre's distance from the girl does he stop moving. Rukawa ignores her fearful expression, eyes glued to the bag carrying the offending piece of literature that has destroyed all his assumptions of her character. He pries the bag out of her hands with ease — she is too surprised by his forward behaviour to put up much of a resistance — and sets it down on the floor behind him.
Even after relinquishing his hold on it the younger Akagi's eyes never leave the bag, as though she is too frightened to look the man standing 3 feet away from her. What would she see in those cold cobalt eyes?
Seconds tick by before the ace runs out of patience, clearing his throat to get her attention.
Her gaze remains glued to the ground.
Having enough of this meaningless charade, Rukawa takes another step forward until he can feel a few strands of her fringe tickle the button of his nose. With their extreme proximity, the team manager's vision is clouded by his entire figure, leaving her with no other option than to stare at his chest if she is to avoid eye-contact with the man before her.
What feels like an eternity passes in silence as Haruko refuses to look him in the eye while the latter refuses to say a word until she does.
Luckily for the ace, silence is familiar territory.
"Is there anything I can do for you Rukawa-kun?" Unable to bear the quiet any longer she slowly lifts her stare to meet his, finding herself lost in the sheer intensity of his glare as he remains silent.
Haruko anxiously bites her lower lip in anticipation and like a moth to a flame Rukawa's gaze is instantly drawn to her mouth. He stares unabashedly, watching her teeth nibble on them until his peripherals catch a glimpse of a rosy hue dusting her slightly freckled cheeks. Eyes travelling north, his focus eventually returns to her widened cerulean irises as he subconsciously inspects the flecks of grey contained within them.
"Stop pretending to not know what I want."
Angling his face downwards Rukawa barely registers their noses brushing against each other, too preoccupied by the warmth of her breath dancing along his lips. The rosy hue at her cheekbones darken into crimson and Haruko's half lidded eyes are enough of an indication of the impure thoughts running wild in her head.
"Stop pretending that you don't want this too."
Wasting no further time he slants his lips over hers, closing his eyes to relish in the sensation. Moving his mouth against her own, he muffles her half-hearted protests, ignoring them in favour of coaxing her lips to respond against his with gentle, unhurried movements. It doesn't take long for her to respond albeit timidly, as she weaves nimble fingers into silky raven locks, lashes tickling his cheeks as her eyes flutter shut.
Rukawa's arms glide along her back, one securing itself around the small of her waist while the other runs up the nape of her neck to cup the back of her head, holding her in place as he deepens the kiss. Swallowing her moans as their tongues collide, he pulls her petite frame flush against his own so that he can feel every inch of her supple body pressed up intimately against his.
Sliding his hand from her waist downwards, he smirks when Haruko gasps at the sudden contact of his hand on her rear as he boldly cups one of her cheeks. Rukawa glides his hand further down from her cheek to the back of her thigh, wrapping her leg around his waist. His lips leave hers, trailing south to latch onto the column of her throat. Teasing the skin with his teeth, he instinctively rolls his hips against hers.
"Rukawa-kun!" Haruko whispers as he nips lightly at her collarbone.
"Rukawa-kun!" her voice drops a few octaves, yet he is too engrossed in releasing his frustrations to notice.
"TEME-KITSUNE!" she shouts, punching him in the face.
"TEME-KITSUNE!" Sakuragi roars at the slumbering boy, decking him square in the face. Ryota and Mitsui hold him back before he can deal more damage to their ace.
A few seconds later a yawn reaches their ears, halting their three-way tussle. Pulling himself into a sitting position, Rukawa scratches the back of his head as he gathers his bearings, sighing in relief at the younger Akagi's absence.
It was just a dream.
Three shadows loom ominously over his form. At first he thinks they're those idiot gangsters trying to pick a fight on a freshman halfway through the year, then he notices the distinct outline of his vertically-challenged captain's curly hair and the moron's buzz cut. He sets aside the desire to pulverise his teammates for waking him up.
"Is lunch over?" Rukawa states rather than asks, slowly getting to his feet.
"Not just lunch, school's over too Rukawa. How long have you been up here for?"
Brows furrow, Rukawa started his nap five minutes into lunchtime. Normally the bell signalling the start of afternoon classes is loud enough to rouse him from slumber. If school is finished for the day…
"I'm done waiting for this bastard!" Sakuragi bellows, stomping his way towards the rooftop entrance as he violently yanks the metal door open, "I'll go train by myself."
Ryota rushes after him, leaving the aces alone together.
Blue meets black. For the longest time neither player speaks. Then Mitsui lowers his gaze, his eyes stopping their trail below Rukawa's waist.
"So you do have hormones."
Chuckling to to himself the sharpshooter turns to follow his teammates, walking away without sparing his junior another glance. Confused by the older student's words, the freshman looks down and pales at the sight that greets him.
Rukawa may be half-asleep but little Rukawa is definitely wide awake.
Training that day is not as awkward as expected.
Be it practice or a real match, when Rukawa is on the court winning is the only thing he concerns himself with. Nothing else matters except for victory. Easily forgetting about his undesired dirty dreams the ace is more than relieved to find that his preoccupation with their new team manager does not affect his basketball skills in the slightest. He isn't the type of athlete who would let personal matters interfere with the quality of his game, and he isn't about to become one now.
"Alright guys," their point guard claps his hands. "Hit the showers. We're done for the day!"
"Good work!" Shohoku's players chorus before making their way to the bathrooms, exiting the gym until only the team managers remain.
As usual Rukawa stayed behind to practice individually. Practicing his scoop shots and fade aways, he has never felt more at peace than when every part of him is synchronised with the ball, as though it is an extension of his hand.
Never has he felt so in control than at that moment, especially given how the past week has been plagued with vivid dreams of him and Haruko engaged in unspeakable activities. Upon discovering that she is a closet pervert, his own hormones have begun acting up and corrupting his mind.
Yet none of that matters right now. Not when he is in the zone, staring at the net with a clarity that he can only find on the basketball court. Not when the ball rolls off his fingers and into the hoop with a grace that makes him wonder whether his body's recent disobedience was all merely imagination.
"Feeling better Rukawa?" Yet, judging by the knowing look on Mitsui's face as he emerges from the changing rooms, it was definitely real.
Rukawa chooses not to respond to the older student's taunts, channelling his energy into shooting from the free throw line instead.
Unfortunately for the current ace, Mitsui is not dissuaded by silence and cannot pass up the opportunity to taunt his ice-block of a teammate.
"Soo…who was it you were dreaming of?"
Rukawa walks forward to retrieve the ball, giving no indication of having heard the ex-gangster's words.
"Do I know her?"
Walking back to the free throw line he shoots Mitsui a venomous glare. The sharpshooter raises his brows, feigning innocence as he hoists his bag onto his shoulder and takes leave.
Just before he exits the gym into the night he freezes, standing stock-still as though struck by an invisible bolt of lightning. He turns slowly to face Rukawa, revealing widened black eyes as Mitsui practically yells,
"Do I know him?"
In case it wasn't clear in the fic, when the boys woke Rukawa up he had a boner.
You can probably tell by the quality of this fic that I was in a rush. I'll admit it, this was put together quickly because the next few days I'll be waaaay too busy to work on anything. Do tell me via review/pm if there are errors in the fic or anything I need to clarify.
Thank you for bearing with this and with me.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!