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imaginedyou) wrote2010-11-17 12:27 pm
imaginedyou) wrote2010-11-17 12:27 pm
A Morning Routine [Prince of Tennis, Sanada/Yukimura]
SanaYuki fluffy-smut or smutty-fluffy. Nothing graphic. Prompt from 31_days: 1 November 2006. the heart asks pleasure first. 934 Words.
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A Morning Routine
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"It's too early to get up, come back to bed," Yukimura says, turning his face into the pillow away from the sunlight and muffling his words.
"It's not that early," Sanada replies gently, but slides back beneath the sheets. Yukimura has never been a morning person, which might be the reason for the harshness of before-school practices back in the day. Yukimura curls his arms around his pillow and attempts to bury himself deeper, but Sanada knows he is awake now, just unwilling to admit to it. He rests his weight on one elbow and watches for a moment as Yukimura's back moves with each breath. If he had truly been lulled back to sleep it would have gone so shallow so as not to be noticed.
Sanada begins by touching the muscles in Yukimura's shoulder, and his fingers drift lightly down the spine. Yukimura's skin prickles but he refuses to move. Sanada feels along his side, back up to the shoulder. Yukimura is warm from their shared body heat, and his skin is smooth and beautiful. Sanada knows he always falls into this trap, but he can't help touching.
He strokes Yukimura's side until Yukimura uncurls slightly, tilting his head back with eyes still shut. Sanada reaches up, cupping Yukimura's chin and throat in his hand and stroking his cheek with his thumb.
"Oh, stop it," Yukimura says, but his mouth carries a soft and lazy smile. Sanada takes this as invitation to slide closer, until his body is pressed against the back of Yukimura's from entwined feet to his breath on Yukimura's neck.
Yukimura can no doubt feel Sanada hard beneath his boxers, pressed against his backside. He rolls over onto his back, and with both hands reaches up to Sanada's face, guiding him down for a kiss without hesitation. All of a sudden Sanada has to use his free hand to keep himself propped up away from the bed, and his body follows Yukimura's direction, leaning half over him.
"What do you want?" Yukimura asks as their lips partly slowly and their eyes meet. He runs his hands down Sanada's chest, palms flat and fingers spread wide. When he brushes over Sanada's nipples Sanada's hips buck in response, and he fits a leg between Yukimura's swiftly and moves jerkily against Yukimura's thigh. He leans down to kiss Yukimura again, and it's full of hunger, hot breath and urgent messiness that breaks them apart and brings them back together again often.
Yukimura's hands move steadily downwards, over Sanada's stomach and the toned muscles that ripple beneath his fingers. He is slow but purposeful in his movements, and eventually one hand lingers on Sanada's hip, stroking the sensitive skin as the other slips beneath his waistband and grips with confidence.
Sanada, on the other hand, once he has recovered himself enough to stop thrusting against Yukimura, knows what is coming, and as Yukimura's hand closes around his cock he reaches down with no preamble to do the same in return. Yukimura gasps into a kiss and Sanada smiles against his mouth.
Yukimura doesn't let it put him off for more than a moment, drawing his hand down along Sanada's length and palming the head of his cock teasingly. Sanada reaches down to Yukimura's balls and sends a shudder running through him.
Yukimura jerks Sanada off with long, slow, deliberate pulls that seem to satisfy individually but refuse to work him up enough to get him off. Sanada finds himself half-grinding against Yukimura's thigh again before he can think about it, trying desperately to build up some friction. His hands fumble, touching Yukimura clumsily, and he decides to change tactics.
At least, that's the plan. Sanada leans down to press his mouth to Yukimura's collarbone and feels the hand on him tighten. A strangled sound escapes his throat and his shoulders heave. He just knows Yukimura is smiling above him, because he gets so much enjoyment out of not just throwing Sanada for a loop, but for giving him pleasure just when he thinks he is on the edge of frustration. Yukimura jerks him off until Sanada is unable to do anything but pant in desperation. It takes all of his concentration to keep his hands steady and supporting his weight as Yukimura's free hand feels across his stomach, muscles quivering at his touch. When he comes Yukimura pulls his hand away in a leisurely manner, slowly bringing his hand to his mouth and licking it. Sanada's mind and body are on different pages, but somehow he manages to pounce in response, attacking Yukimura's skin with his mouth as he reaches down again.
He licks his way to Yukimura's nipple, hand below searching for familiar spots that make Yukimura squirm and twist. It almost feels like a need to get away, except for the hand gripping Sanada's shoulder tightly that silently asks him not to stop. Sanada loves the way Yukimura can go from cool and collected and in control of a situation to a beautiful trembling mess in seconds, loves that he is the one who can do it to him.
"Sa-!" Yukimura manages to gasp out before he comes. Sanada moves to press himself against Yukimura's side once again, sliding a leg between Yukimura's and an arm across his chest. Yukimura's breathing begins to slow back down, and once it does a hand finds its way into Sanada's hair and fingers play idly with the strands at the base of his neck.
"Let's not get up yet," Sanada says, resting his head in the crook of Yukimura's neck. "It's too early."
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"It's too early to get up, come back to bed," Yukimura says, turning his face into the pillow away from the sunlight and muffling his words.
"It's not that early," Sanada replies gently, but slides back beneath the sheets. Yukimura has never been a morning person, which might be the reason for the harshness of before-school practices back in the day. Yukimura curls his arms around his pillow and attempts to bury himself deeper, but Sanada knows he is awake now, just unwilling to admit to it. He rests his weight on one elbow and watches for a moment as Yukimura's back moves with each breath. If he had truly been lulled back to sleep it would have gone so shallow so as not to be noticed.
Sanada begins by touching the muscles in Yukimura's shoulder, and his fingers drift lightly down the spine. Yukimura's skin prickles but he refuses to move. Sanada feels along his side, back up to the shoulder. Yukimura is warm from their shared body heat, and his skin is smooth and beautiful. Sanada knows he always falls into this trap, but he can't help touching.
He strokes Yukimura's side until Yukimura uncurls slightly, tilting his head back with eyes still shut. Sanada reaches up, cupping Yukimura's chin and throat in his hand and stroking his cheek with his thumb.
"Oh, stop it," Yukimura says, but his mouth carries a soft and lazy smile. Sanada takes this as invitation to slide closer, until his body is pressed against the back of Yukimura's from entwined feet to his breath on Yukimura's neck.
Yukimura can no doubt feel Sanada hard beneath his boxers, pressed against his backside. He rolls over onto his back, and with both hands reaches up to Sanada's face, guiding him down for a kiss without hesitation. All of a sudden Sanada has to use his free hand to keep himself propped up away from the bed, and his body follows Yukimura's direction, leaning half over him.
"What do you want?" Yukimura asks as their lips partly slowly and their eyes meet. He runs his hands down Sanada's chest, palms flat and fingers spread wide. When he brushes over Sanada's nipples Sanada's hips buck in response, and he fits a leg between Yukimura's swiftly and moves jerkily against Yukimura's thigh. He leans down to kiss Yukimura again, and it's full of hunger, hot breath and urgent messiness that breaks them apart and brings them back together again often.
Yukimura's hands move steadily downwards, over Sanada's stomach and the toned muscles that ripple beneath his fingers. He is slow but purposeful in his movements, and eventually one hand lingers on Sanada's hip, stroking the sensitive skin as the other slips beneath his waistband and grips with confidence.
Sanada, on the other hand, once he has recovered himself enough to stop thrusting against Yukimura, knows what is coming, and as Yukimura's hand closes around his cock he reaches down with no preamble to do the same in return. Yukimura gasps into a kiss and Sanada smiles against his mouth.
Yukimura doesn't let it put him off for more than a moment, drawing his hand down along Sanada's length and palming the head of his cock teasingly. Sanada reaches down to Yukimura's balls and sends a shudder running through him.
Yukimura jerks Sanada off with long, slow, deliberate pulls that seem to satisfy individually but refuse to work him up enough to get him off. Sanada finds himself half-grinding against Yukimura's thigh again before he can think about it, trying desperately to build up some friction. His hands fumble, touching Yukimura clumsily, and he decides to change tactics.
At least, that's the plan. Sanada leans down to press his mouth to Yukimura's collarbone and feels the hand on him tighten. A strangled sound escapes his throat and his shoulders heave. He just knows Yukimura is smiling above him, because he gets so much enjoyment out of not just throwing Sanada for a loop, but for giving him pleasure just when he thinks he is on the edge of frustration. Yukimura jerks him off until Sanada is unable to do anything but pant in desperation. It takes all of his concentration to keep his hands steady and supporting his weight as Yukimura's free hand feels across his stomach, muscles quivering at his touch. When he comes Yukimura pulls his hand away in a leisurely manner, slowly bringing his hand to his mouth and licking it. Sanada's mind and body are on different pages, but somehow he manages to pounce in response, attacking Yukimura's skin with his mouth as he reaches down again.
He licks his way to Yukimura's nipple, hand below searching for familiar spots that make Yukimura squirm and twist. It almost feels like a need to get away, except for the hand gripping Sanada's shoulder tightly that silently asks him not to stop. Sanada loves the way Yukimura can go from cool and collected and in control of a situation to a beautiful trembling mess in seconds, loves that he is the one who can do it to him.
"Sa-!" Yukimura manages to gasp out before he comes. Sanada moves to press himself against Yukimura's side once again, sliding a leg between Yukimura's and an arm across his chest. Yukimura's breathing begins to slow back down, and once it does a hand finds its way into Sanada's hair and fingers play idly with the strands at the base of his neck.
"Let's not get up yet," Sanada says, resting his head in the crook of Yukimura's neck. "It's too early."
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