Kissing Lessons

Despite the fact that they were supposed to be studying, Jirou was half-sprawled over the desk in Atobe's study, arms draped over his textbook and head pillowed on his arms. That was nothing unusual, of course - Shishido had often expressed his opinion in the past that Jirou must be capable of learning by osmosis, and that was why he was careful to sleep on the textbooks.

Tonight it was only Jirou and Atobe, however. What was unusual was the fact that Jirou wasn't asleep; his brown eyes were open, gazing almost soulfully at Atobe as the older boy bent over his studies. He said nothing, not even the soft sleepy noises he usually made when he was just on the verge of sliding into a nap, but the weight of his gaze was almost palpable.

The weight of Jirou's gaze was starting to get to Atobe, though he took pains not to let the boy know it. He looked up finally, frowning at him. "Do you have a question, Jirou? Something about the homework?" Of course, that would be strange. If Jirou had a question, he would just ask it, wouldn't he?

"Huh?" Just as if he were being startled out of sleep - well, if he were a normal person startled out of sleep, it took a great deal more than that to wake Jirou - the younger boy blinked at him in confusion.

"Oh," Jirou sat up and yawned, then propped his elbows on the table and chin on his hands. He looked like a sad, rumpled little puppy dog. "No. I was just thinking, I miss Shishido. He hasn't studied with us since he started playing with Ohtori-kun."

Atobe eyed him for a moment, then shrugged slightly. "Well, I think he enjoys Ohtori's company a great deal more than ours," he said calmly. The words stung a bit, but really, who could blame the boy? "Besides, he'll regret it in the end. He can't study with Ohtori-kun."

At that, Jirou snickered. "Well, he could. But I think they'd get distracted." A brief flash of mischief crossed his expressive face. "Though I'd never have thought Ohtori-kun would be so easily sidetracked. I guess Shishido's pretty persuasive. And they really ought to learn to double-check that I'm not sleeping somewhere in the locker room."

The laughter faded quickly, however, and he sighed. "We're all growing up, aren't we?"

Atobe stared at Jirou. He knew they were doing a bit more than snuggling, but Shishido and Ohtori in the locker room? That sounded more like something Oshitari and Gakuto would do - and he knew that for a fact, as he'd caught them at it a few times.

Jirou was definitely in a strange mood. It was unlike him to be so awake and so unhappy. Atobe closed his book. "We are," he said. "Some of us a little too fast."

"Pretty soon we'll be in high school," Jirou noted, his elbows slowly sliding outwards on the table, leaving him once again draped over his text with his head on his arms. "And then we'll be allowed to date. Though I guess Shishido got one up on us there." He grinned briefly again. "Then I guess you'll have a girlfriend pretty fast, huh? Who'm I gonna study with then?"

Atobe privately doubted he'd be getting a girlfriend any time soon. "I don't know," he said loftily. "I'm not sure a girlfriend is in my sights just yet. After all, it would be unfair to my fanclub if I were to pick just one."

"Yeah, but you're Atobe," Jirou said, with an emphasis on the name as if that should have made everything clear. "You could have anyone you want, there'll be some perfect girl out there. And your fanclub will still like you."

"Thus far, I haven't found a woman that meets my exacting standards," Atobe said.

"That's not the point!" Jirou waved that off with a pout that Atobe wasn't understanding him, and briefly stuck his tongue out at his friend. "The point is that we're growing up, and Shishido has a boyfriend and you'll have a girlfriend sooner or later." He bit his lip, and blinked. "And Shishido's got all kinds of experience now, and so do Oshitari and Gakuto, and I bet you do too because who wouldn't want to experiment with you? And I've never even been kissed. It's not fair."

Atobe frowned. He did indeed have experience. A couple of times he'd deigned to give some of his fangirls a kiss or two behind the locker rooms. "Well, Jirou, clearly you just need to find a girl who's willing to kiss you. I'm sure there are many who would volunteer given the chance."

"Ew." Jirou made a rather comical face. "I'm with Shishido, girls are weird. And clingy. And they squeal at me when I'm trying to sleep, and it hurts my ears. And they don't know anything about tennis."

Atobe blinked. "Well...yes, that's true," he said. "Then find a boy. Who likes tennis, and is attractive. I'm sure there are dozens in the tennis team who aren't regulars." None as beautiful as Jirou, Atobe was sure, but it wouldn't do to tell the sleepy boy that. He might get too excited at being so praised by his buchou and break something.

"Hmm." Jirou appeared to ponder this prospect for a long moment. "But Shishido's taken, so's Ohtori. So're Mukahi and Oshitari, and anyway they're kinda perverted and I'm not sure I'd trust them." He shook his head, now frowning in concentration. "Hiyoshi's straight, I think. Taki's still mooning over losing Ohtori to Shishido. Kabaji would be... ew, weird."

He made another face, and sighed. "And everybody else is just boring. I'd probably fall asleep in the middle of it." He snickered briefly. "At this rate, the rest of you will all be married and settled down before I even get my first kiss!"

Atobe frowned at him, feeling annoyance rise up inside him. "There's a member of the Hyoutei tennis team that you didn't mention, Jirou," he said haughtily. "Why don't I rate a mention? Or am I one of the 'boring' ones?"

That made Jirou burst out in genuine laughter. "Boring? You?" he sputtered. "Never, Atobe! But you said I should find someone else. If you were gonna offer, you'd have done it before that. Anyway, wouldn't that kinda ruin me for anyone else?" He grinned, then his eyes softened in thought again as he tilted his head. "Think Ohtori'd let me practice on Shishido if I asked nice and offered to let him watch? Or something?"

"Definitely not," Atobe said firmly. Why hadn't he offered? After all, it wasn't as though Jirou would turn down the offer. That much was obvious. "I didn't offer because I didn't want you to feel obligated to take me up on it, and you might be ruined, it's true." He said thoughtfully. "But I don't know that you have very many alternatives."

Wide-eyed, no longer sleepy or morose, Jirou turned to him. "Really? Would you?" The same hyper expression was creeping over him that he got when Atobe offered to play him. "You'd help me, Atobe? That'd be the best!" He bounced slightly in his seat, clearly excited.

Hah, he knew Jirou would get too excited if he offered to kiss him. Atobe got to his feet and moved over to Jirou. "Yes, I'll help you," he said. "But keep in mind that not everyone will kiss the way I do."

Sitting straight in his seat, Jirou watched Atobe approach and tilted his face up expectantly. "That's okay," he informed his friend cheerfully. "It'll just give me a high standard to measure people against, and maybe they won't be as good as you, but at least I'll know it if they're bad, right?" He wrinkled his nose adorably. "Wouldn't it suck if I only ever practiced with people who were bad, and then I settled for someone who was bad, just 'cause I didn't know it could be any better?"

Atobe considered that, and nodded. "That's true," he said. "Very wise." He bent down and brushed his lips over Jirou's, then quickly deepened the kiss, sealing his lips to the Singles 2 player's. His body stirred at the touch and he tried to ignore it. He wasn't going to seduce Jirou. That wouldn't be fair. Then he'd REALLY be ruined.

With a soft little sigh Jirou melted against him, small hands coming up to clutch at Atobe's shoulders for balance as the shorter boy swayed in his seat. His moist lips parted beneath Atobe's, tongue flicking out briefly as if to taste. "MmmMMM," Jirou moaned, a small sound of pure satisfaction, like the cat purring as it ate the cream.

Well now... Jirou was reacting just right, and Atobe couldn't be blamed if he wrapped his arms around Jirou and responded to that flicking tongue by sliding his own deep into the other boy's mouth. He tasted like honey, somehow, warm and sweet.

It was a bit of an awkward angle, with Atobe leaning over the seated boy, but Jirou didn't seem to mind. Once Atobe was supporting him with his arms, he really did literally melt into the embrace, going all boneless until Atobe was the only thing hold him upright. His eyes were still open, barely... slivers of heated chocolate looking more through Atobe than at him.

Atobe finally withdrew his tongue and broke the kiss gently, looking down into Jirou's vague expression. "Did that help?" he asked with a bit of a smirk.

"Um?" The response wasn't very coherent. Jirou shook his head slightly, clearly trying to gather his scattered thoughts. "I dunno... it was kinda hard to pay attention." He gave Atobe a sheepish grin, rubbing his hair with a hand that was trembling slightly. "You're really good at that, Atobe. If it's not too much trouble, could we maybe do it a couple times? Maybe by then I'll be able to pay better attention."

Atobe blinked, but then it wasn't that surprising that his kiss could render Jirou that befuddled. The girls certainly had seemed very grateful, and it HAD been a wonderful kiss - one of his best, if he did say so himself. "I suppose we could do that," he said. "Are you comfortable like that, though?"

"It's..." Jirou squinted a bit, and tilted his neck to one side, letting the vertebrae crack audibly. "A little uncomfortable," he admitted. "But I don't mind so much. I didn't really notice. Isn't it hard for you to be bending over so far, though?" He blinked up artlessly at the taller boy.

"It is a little," Atobe glanced around and gestured towards an armchair by the fire. "Let's move there. If I'm going to give you proper instruction, we both need to be able to concentrate." He walked over to the chair and sat down, gesturing to Jirou.

Jirou trailed slightly bewildered eyes over the chair - more specifically, over the lack of any other chair near it. Then he shrugged, grinned, and cheerfully plopped himself straight into Atobe's lap with his usual utter disregard for personal space.

He wasn't usually so awake when he dropped down onto someone, however. It was a bit odd to suddenly have an armful of warm, wriggling, wide-awake Jirou. To say nothing of the way the younger boy's eyes were now fixed on Atobe's mouth. "Better," he declared, straddling Atobe with his knees on either side of Atobe's hips on the wide seat of the chair.

Atobe had recognized that Jirou would likely plop himself right in his lap, but had figured that the experience was meant to be enjoyable anyway, so the experiment would warrant it. Besides, they had to get close, or they'd be craning their necks again.

Giving Jirou a smile, he sealed his lips to the other boy's again, trying not to think TOO hard about how squirmy a wide awake Jirou was.

Perched on Atobe's knees, his hands again braced on the older boy's shoulders, Jirou participated in this kiss just as enthusiastically as he had in the first. Moreover, he'd obviously been paying some attention, because he awkwardly copied the way Atobe had been running his tongue over the inside of Jirou's mouth. This time his eyes were closed, a dreamy expression on his face as they kissed.

Atobe opened his mouth, letting Jirou explore, though he smiled indulgently at the other boy's awkwardness. He gasped softly as he touched a sensitive spot, his fingers tracing the lines of Jirou's shoulder blades.

Shivering into the touch of Atobe's hands, Jirou again flicked his tongue over that spot that had made Atobe gasp. His kiss was like his tennis; overenthusiastic and clumsy almost to the point of ridiculousness, yet somehow every move he made ended up being exactly the best thing he could have done. If somewhat less gracefully than it could otherwise have been accomplished.

Atobe gasped again, a soft moan caught between their mouths as his kiss began to build in passion. His fingers tightened on Jirou's back, his tongue thrusting into Jirou's mouth and exploring him in turn.

The little noises Jirou was making in the back of his throat could only be described as whimpers. He squirmed in Atobe's lap, inching closer as he once again melted into the embrace, his fingers opening and closing on Atobe's shoulders as if to help anchor him. "Atobe," he murmured when they finally had to part for air, breathing as hard as if they'd just played a full set.

"Y-yes, Jirou?" Atobe replied, tempted to ask the wriggling bundle of sex in his arms to call him 'Keigo'. "What is it?"

"Uh?" It was a questioning noise, once again somewhat less than coherent. Jirou didn't seem to be very capable of focusing at all immediately after Atobe kissed him. Slowly those warm chocolate eyes slid open, fixing on Atobe's face. "N-nothing. Just like saying your name. Do that again please?"

"Oh," Atobe murmured. "Yes, of course." He bent forward and kissed him again. He couldn't imagine this ever getting boring, though he was going to have to stop soon or he might get carried away. His hands were already acting as though they had minds of their own, sliding up and down Jirou's back hungrily.

Arching up into Atobe's hands, Jirou squirmed again. This time it was a slow, almost languid motion, like a dance to music only Jirou could hear. It was sort of like the way he stretched when he woke up on his own - a rare occurrence, but Atobe had seen it once or twice. It ended with Jirou rather more in Atobe's lap than perched on his knees, arms wound around the older boy's neck as he pressed close.

Oh....man. That motion caused Atobe to lean forward a bit, his fingers sliding down to tease at Jirou's waistband as he felt heat flood his body and pool somewhere around his nether regions. He broke the kiss quickly, breathing as though he'd run 100 laps around the tennis court. "I...I think I've shown you about as much as I should," he said.

"Um. Uh... oh?" Jirou drew in a deep, unsteady breath, blinking at Atobe with an expression that was mingled heat and disappointment. "Oh, okay. Thanks, Atobe." He smiled, heart stopping and sweet. "That was really good. I hope I learned enough from it. I was kinda having trouble paying attention properly."

He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Hmm. I wonder if I should go find somebody else to try it with? Just to see. But I still can't think of anybody. Can you?" He turned guileless eyes on Atobe, still perched on the older boy's lap.

"I...I don't think you need any more practice with anyone else," Atobe said, struggling both to regain his dignity and to clamp down on an extremely confusing feeling of murderous rage towards the idea of anyone else touching those sweet, pouty lips.

"Well, but..." Jirou blinked. "You think I shouldn't kiss anyone else until it's serious? But how do I know if it's serious enough? What if I just think it's serious, and it's not?" He looked faintly worried. "And what if I forget? It could be a long time before it wouldn't be practising. What if I forget how to do it right?"

Atobe tried to cut through the tangled babble. "You won't forget," he said firmly. "And I think if you think it's serious, that's a good enough reason. Even if the relationship doesn't go well in the end...that's normal. But if you go around kissing people when you don't really mean it, you'll end up hurting someone who thinks you ARE serious."

"But it's like tennis, right?" Jirou gave him an uncertain look. "If I didn't practice all the time, I'd get bad at it. If I don't practice this, maybe I'll get bad at it, too. What do I do then?" Wide, brown eyes pleaded with Atobe. "Will you help me again then?"

Atobe cleared his throat. "Jirou... I don't think I can," he said. "It's no more fair to me for you to kiss me if it means nothing to you then it is for you to do it to anyone else," he heard himself say and winced.

"Hmm?" Jirou tilted his head again, looking sleepy. Except... Atobe had seen Jirou look sleepy, in an infinite variety of ways, and this wasn't one of them. It could almost be described as 'sultry'. "So you don't want me to kiss you unless I'm serious?"

"That's right," Atobe said. His fingers were threading through Jirou's hair and he forced them to stop. Stupid traitorous fingers.

Arching his neck, Jirou tilted his head into the contact like a giant cat responding to having its ears stroked. He was practically purring, as well. "Mmmmbut," he murmured, looking down at Atobe, "Then you'd be kissing me and not being serious about it, and I'd be the one getting hurt. That's not fair either."

Atobe blinked at Jirou. "What if I were serious?" he asked, his fingers moving slowly again. Was he serious? He thought about kissing Jirou and felt his body respond again, then he glanced up at the boy, feeling a warmth spread through his body that wasn't entirely to do with lust.

"Well," Jirou sighed softly. "Then I guess I wouldn't be about to get my heart broken." Before Atobe could fully absorb that, Jirou shifted his hands up from the older boy's shoulders to cup his face, holding it still. He leaned down and proceeded to prove that he had, in fact, been paying at least some attention to what Atobe had shown him.

Atobe let out a soft moan, tightening his arms around Jirou and crushing the boy to him as he returned the kiss with interest. The thought that Jirou might have manipulated this to this point wandered around in his mind in search of something to connect with. Shoving the thought away, he concentrated on how delicious Jirou's lips were and how wonderful they felt against his own.

When Atobe tightened his embrace and started kissing back, Jirou made a small, happy noise in the back of his throat and pressed closer. His hands left the sides of Atobe's face, long fingers trailing down over the strong column of the older boy's neck and flirting with the collar of his shirt.

Atobe slid his arms down Jirou's back, teasing at his waistband again as he devoured the other boy's mouth. He could only hope that the happy noise meant that Jirou had gotten the message, because he wasn't about to stop and ask.

The sound that escaped Jirou when Atobe's fingers brushed his waistband was somewhere between startled shock and a moan of sheer pleasure. He wriggled again, plainly trying to encourage the exploration, even as his own hands trailed lower over the plains of Atobe's chest through his soft shirt.

Drawing in a breath at the way Jirou squirmed in his lap, Atobe was only too glad to continue the exploration. His thumbs dipped beneath his waistband as his hands spread to cup his buttocks through the fabric.

Jirou's ass was as lithe and muscled as all the rest of him, his deceptively slender frame hiding how strong he really was. He was close enough now that Atobe could feel him brushing against his chest with every breath... and brushing lower places, too. It was obvious that Atobe wasn't the only one being affected by this.

It was a revelation that made Atobe even bolder. He pushed forward, holding Jirou firmly as he laid the boy out on the rug in front of the chair. He broke the kiss and lifted his head. "Fire," he said, and the gas fireplace next to them lit up with a soft rush of heat, the flickering flames reflecting off of Jirou's hair and face as Atobe looked down at him with a smile.

Blinking, Jirou looked at the now cheerfully burning fire, then back at Atobe with a hint of awe mixed with the lust in his eyes. "Wow," he exclaimed, reverent. "That was cool!" He squirmed again beneath Atobe's gaze, arms wrapped around his neck again. "I liked the chair, though... your lap is comfy, and now you're too far away." Since there was perhaps an inch of space between them all told, this was a somewhat ridiculous statement.

Atobe rolled his eyes. "My lap might be comfy for you, but it was getting a bit too crowded as far as I'm concerned," he purred, lowering his head to trace his lips along Jirou's jawline.

"Nnnnbut," Jirou panted as he tipped his head back, granting easier access, "I always kinda wanted to try it in a chair. It looks so cool in the movies."

He tilted his head to the side enough to allow him to look down at Atobe with one pleading eye, while still keeping his throat bare for the older boy's exploration. "Can we try it sometime? Since we're being serious and all?"

"I think we could," Atobe said, nibbling and kissing his way down Jirou's throat. "I think we'd have to wait for the chair until you were naked, at least. Otherwise it'd be a bit pointless."

"Could've... ohhhhh," that was a soft moan as Atobe's teeth found a particularly sensitive spot. Jirou retaliated by dropping his hand to run his fingers over the strong muscles of Atobe's back. "Could've had fun getting them off me, though," he panted.

"If you don't mind," Atobe murmured, torturing that spot in the hopes of making Jirou make a few more of those wonderful noises. "I think I'll have fun getting them off you anyway."

"I don't mind." Jirou said the words as though they should have been blindingly obvious, shuddering as Atobe continued to torment him. He arched up, hooking one slender leg over the older boy's hip as he tried to pull him close. "Mmmmmm Atobe, you're teasing me," he whimpered.

"I don't want to move too fast for you," Atobe confessed gently. He slid Jirou's shirt up and traced over his muscles, teasing at them and then brushing over his nipples.

Shuddering again, Jirou buried his face in Atobe's shoulder and licked at the soft skin where it joined his throat. As his hands trailed down towards Atobe's waist, the smaller boy muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'been waiting months already' into the cloth of his shirt.

"Well, clearly you should have asked for kissing lessons sooner," Atobe said unrepentantly as he flicked Jirou's nipples with his fingernails. He lowered his head towards Jirou's chest, replacing a hand with his mouth and suckling at the tiny nub.

"Didn't... oh gods," Jirou cried out softly as Atobe tormented his nipples. He tightened the leg he had over the taller boy's hip, forcing him down until they were grinding together, one erection against the other. "Didn't think of it 'till I saw Ohtori use it on Sh-shishido..."

"So you DID do this on purpose," Atobe looked up and gave Jirou a look of disbelief. "Congratulations, Jirou," he said with a wry look, though he fought to maintain his composure through a haze of pleasure as his hips rocked forward against Jirou. "I underestimated you."

"S'okay, everybody does," Jirou murmured, thrusting against him and trying to force him to speed the pace. "Ohtori 'n I have that in common, or it wouldn't've worked for either of us. Though you ought to know better. Gods, Atobe..." that came out in a whine. "Please..."

Who could have resisted that plea? Certainly not Atobe. He tugged downwards on the waistband of Jirou's pants, stripping them off and sliding his hands up Jirou's thighs before curling his fingers around the hard member that jutted from the honey curls at the join of his legs. "Call me Keigo," he muttered against Jirou's chest.

"Keigo," Jirou promptly obliged, though his voice broke on the name as Atobe touched him. He squirmed again, fingers tugging at the shirt tucked into Atobe's pants, desperate for the feel of skin against skin. "Keigo, you're wearing too much! I want to touch you."

"Then do so," Atobe said with a smirk. "I'm not stopping you. Are you saying you want me to stop this?" he squeezed Jirou's cock, then resumed the stroking motion.

"Nooooo..." Jirou drew the word out until it was a whimper, his hips making little jerking motions as he tried to keep himself from thrusting into Atobe's hand. "B-but I can't... can't concentrate... long enough to oh!" he shuddered as Atobe's fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot, "Oh, to get your clothes off," he finished, still panting, eyes glazed with passion.

It wasn't often that Jirou was lying on a horizontal surface and not asleep, but despite the way his lids were drooping over his eyes he didn't look in the least bit sleepy at the moment. He'd managed to get some of Atobe's shirt untucked, and was trailing his fingers along the soft skin of his stomach, tracing the definition of the muscles there. "Want to touch you," he murmured again, squeezing his fingers past Atobe's belt and brushing the tips against the head of the older boy's cock.

Atobe drew in a breath that shuddered slightly, then let it out again with a bit of a moan. Now that was far more teasing than Jirou had a right to be. "Just a moment," he whispered, drawing back. He pulled off his shirt, the tanned skin glowing in the firelight, then started to unbuckle his belt.

"Wow." Jirou repeated his earlier statement about the fire, but this time his eyes were fixed on Atobe's chest. His voice was no less reverent, though, and there was a look of astonished delight in his eyes. "Wow, Keigo, you're so gorgeous."

As if he was unable to help himself, he sat up and ran his fingers over the strong planes of Atobe's torso. He followed the fingers with his tongue, licking and laving at the skin like he was enjoying a lollipop. Jirou was still wearing his shirt, and it was just long enough to puddle at the tops of his thighs and provide the barest measure of modesty - not that Jirou seemed particularly concerned with modesty at the moment.

Atobe had the inexplicable urge to blush. He threaded his fingers through the wavy strands of Jirou's hair, gasping softly at the wet touch of Jirou's tongue. "God, Jirou..." he purred, his hands dropping down to lift Jirou's shirt and run over the other boy's smooth skin.

Wriggling again in pleasure at the way Atobe's hands were caressing him, Jirou sighed against the older boy's chest. "I like the way you touch me," he murmured, shifting so he was on his knees kneeling before Atobe. He licked at one of the taller boy's nipples, then bit down and worried it with his teeth as if it were a candy.

Atobe had been rather distracted from what he was doing; he'd undone the buckle of his belt but not much else. Now Jirou's hands trailed down to finish the job for him, tugging the belt free and tossing it aside, then undoing the top button of Atobe's slacks and reaching inside once more with eager fingers.

Atobe groaned, first at the bite to his nipple, and then again at the eager hands grasping at his sensitive skin. "Jirou..." he muttered, one hand supporting the boy's back while he dropped the other down to curl around Jirou's member, stroking gently. They were both kneeling, nearly chest to chest, and he bent his head to bury his face in Jirou's hair, inhaling the fresh scent of his shampoo. "You're so beautiful."

They made an odd picture, kneeling there together in front of the fire, with Atobe shirtless and Jirou wearing nothing but his shirt. Shivering, Jirou matched Atobe's pace, his strong fingers curling around Atobe's cock and the back of his hand brushing against the straining zipper of the pants. It didn't take more than a few strokes before the zipper started to ease down on its own, relieving some of the pressure.

Atobe's words made Jirou moan again, drawing back to lick gently at the older boy's abused nipple. "Really?" he asked almost shyly, with another delighted grin at Atobe.

"Would I lie to you?" Atobe asked, his voice a bit breathless from the intimate touches. Jirou's hair fairly glowed in the firelight, the flames bringing out the red tones hidden in the light brown strands. He bent down and kissed him almost fiercely, the pace of his stroking hand beginning to quicken.

Startled by the sudden passionate kiss, Jirou moaned into his mouth. "MmmmMMPH!" It ended on an exclamation of some kind as Atobe picked up the pace, and Jirou squirmed against him. Wrapping his arms around the taller boy's neck once again, Jirou let himself fall backwards over his legs, trying to tug Atobe down after him.

Atobe went willingly, parting his legs to straddle Jirou's thighs and give himself room to continue the movements of his hand. His tongue thrust into Jirou's mouth, the kiss possessive and passionate. He's MINE!

The position was clearly a bit awkward for Jirou; he was flexible, but no Gakuto. He put up with it for a few moments, clearly enjoying himself far too much to protest, but then he started squirming uncomfortably. While still refusing to let go of Atobe or break the kiss, he struggled to get his legs unfolded from under him so they'd both be lying full length on the rug.

The attempt caused him to rub up hard against Atobe, their hands knocking together and the fabric of Atobe's slacks brushing roughly against Jirou's soft skin.

Atobe groaned aloud, then shifted off of Jirou, letting him untangle himself before straddling him again, trapping his knees. He shifted downwards, biting a nipple and then licking and sucking his way down Jirou's stomach.

He reached the boy's groin and hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his fingers around his cock again, lowering his head to take the tip into his mouth.

Gasping, Jirou arched against the floor, his back actually clearing the rug by an inch. The muscles in his thighs tightened and quivered beneath Atobe, and his hands were clenching and unclenching in the rug.

"Mmm... Keigo... can't..." Once again Jirou seemed incapable of coherent speech, his head thrown back and eyes close in an expression of sheer ecstasy. "You're too good at this..."

"It's all right, Jirou," Atobe murmured, lifting his head just enough to speak. "Let yourself go. I want to see you." He lowered his head again, taking a bit more of Jirou's cock into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the head experimentally. THIS was something he'd never done, but Jirou seemed impressed. Naturally.

"B-but... I want... I want..." Jirou's eyes opened and he gave Atobe a desperate look. "Keigo I w-want... oh gods!" His body tensed all at once, and Atobe felt the first warning spasm of Jirou's cock in his mouth. "K-keigo!" Jirou's voice broke on a wail as he came hard, shuddering and clinging to Atobe.

Atobe managed to swallow the first flood into his mouth, then drew his head back before he started choking. He watched Jirou shudder, curling his arms around the boy and holding him tightly, his eyes trained with a sort of rapture on Jirou's face.

Panting, Jirou collapsed back onto the rug, a look of smug satiation plastered over his face. There were strings of pearly semen on his stomach where his shirt had ridden up, and staining the shirt at the bottom as well. Sleep was visibly creeping up on him, but for once he was fighting it. "So good," he sighed, reaching out to lazily caress Atobe's hair with one hand. "Wanna make you feel good too, Keigo. You're still wearing too much."

Atobe smiled. "Don't go to sleep on me now, Jirou. I might take offence," he warned, his tone affectionate. He slipped out of his pants and stretched out next to Jirou on the rug, nuzzling at his throat. "Is this better?"

"Better," Jirou agreed softly, reaching out to slide his hand over Atobe's length again, stroking slowly. "And I'm trying not to." He yawned, Adam's apple sliding oddly against Atobe's lips on his throat. "Don't want to miss this. But I'm always sleepy after I come, aren't you?" He looked at Atobe curiously.

"Yes," Atobe said, his voice breathless as his hips jerked towards Jirou's fingers. "But it's not exactly polite to make me have to finish myself off, now is it?" He nibbled at Jirou's throat, moaning softly.

"Mmmm... then I guess we'll just have to see how much attention I was paying, huh?" Jirou purred happily, and licked his lips. Nudging Atobe away from his throat, he ducked his head and started licking and nibbling his way down the older boy's chest once more, taking his time about it. His hand continued to stroke slowly over Atobe's erection, just enough force and speed to stimulate but not satisfy.

Glad that Jirou didn't seem about to conk out on him, Atobe moaned and settled onto his back on the rug, letting Jirou tease his way down. His hips shifted slowly, rocking up into Jirou's hand with each stroke. "So good, Jirou," he purred, threading his fingers through the bright hair.

"Good," Jirou mumbled against the taut skin over Atobe's abs. "Wouldn't be fair if you were really good at it, and then I was really bad. You might not want to do it again."

Before Atobe could answer that, Jirou yawned again, and then took Atobe as far into his mouth as he could manage. It wasn't very far, just a couple of inches, but it was warm and wet and Jirou was surprisingly agile with his tongue.

Oh...god. Atobe groaned and fought not to thrust upwards into that wonderful, gorgeous mouth of Jirou's, curling his fingers in the rug and the other boy's hair as he gasped for breath. "D-definitely going to want to do this again," he managed.

A happy little rumbling moan was his only answer - that, and the way Jirou started bobbing his head up and down, taking obvious care not to scrape his teeth against Atobe's skin. One of his hands was wrapped around the base of the older boy's cock; the other crept upwards and curled almost possessively around the fist Atobe was making in the rug.

Atobe squirmed, soft, gasping moans coming to his mouth as Jirou's lips and tongue worked him over. He couldn't help it. He turned his hand over and squeezed Jirou's fingers tightly, feeling his climax already beginning to pool in his stomach.

Squeezing Atobe's hand back just as tightly, Jirou continued to slide his mouth over every bit of Atobe's cock that he could fit inside. He was making soft little humming sounds of encouragement, each of which made his mouth vibrate around Atobe in the most amazing way. He released the base of Atobe's cock and slid his fingers further down, running them gently over the delicate skin of his balls.

It was too much, far too much. "J-Jirou," Atobe had time to gasp as his body began to tremble from head to toe. "I'm going to--" He was interrupted by a cry as he arched his back hard, climax slamming into him with toe-curling force.

Caught by surprise, Jirou choked and came up panting and coughing, making a face at the horrible taste. "Ew, that doesn't taste nearly as good as the rest of you," he complained sleepily.

He crawled up Atobe's body to collapse half over him, totally uncaring that his shirt front was dragging in the semen puddling on the older boy's stomach. This was more the boneless sprawl Atobe was accustomed to seeing Jirou in when he flopped down over someone to use them as a pillow.

Atobe curled his arms around Jirou tightly, uncaring of the mess. They'd take a shower later, he realized, and that opened up many other delightful possibilities they'd only begun to explore. "No asking Ohtori to practice with you," he murmured, running his fingers through Jirou's soft curls. "Or anyone else for that matter. Got it? Only with me."

One dark brown eye peered up at him, hazed with exhaustion and the fading traces of ecstasy. "But we'll practice a lot, right? I don't want to get rusty." He gave a sleepy version of his impish grin and nuzzled into Atobe's shoulder.

"Oh yes," Atobe said, purring contentedly as he relaxed into the floor. He knew that sleeping naked on the rug was probably undignified and might result in a sore back, but the penalty seemed worth it. He didn't want to move, let alone go in search of his bed. "Sleep, Jirou," he murmured, as though he had to give that particular order.

"Already am," was the faint, half-mumbled response, and he felt Jirou's lips curve against his shoulder. A small hand patted vaguely at his shoulder. "Go t'sleep, Keigo. We c'n practice more'n'a mornin'."

"Uh huh." The barely verbal reply was all Atobe could muster at the moment, as he slipped into a light doze, Jirou warm against his side.

Waiting, Jirou felt Atobe's breathing even out as the other boy fell into sleep. He cracked one eye and peered up, smiling at the blissfully peaceful expression on the face of his 'pillow'.

"Gotta remember to thank Ohtori-kun later for the idea," Jirou murmured softly, his smile widening into a grin. Laying his head back down on Atobe's shoulder, he finally joined the other boy in sleep.

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