A/N: Hey folks... I'm back? The last PoT fic I posted here was in 2005... approximately 8 years ago, oh man. I've been away for an incredibly long time haven't I?

There's a surprising lack of Tokugawa/Ryoma fic in this fandom, and none in FFN, so I thought I'd remedy that with this. I've only written one other Tokugawa/Ryoma fic, around a year ago, called "Like Chocolate Cake and Cigarettes" and it's in my AO3 (check my profile for the link). I haven't read TokuRyo fic other than mine actually (come on, I can't be the only one who sees the hidden meanings in Tokugawa's rainbow serve of gay), so if you know of one, do let me know.:)

Warning: Contains sexual situations but nothing too detailed, in compliance of FFN policy on MA material.

Tokugawa blinks at the question that was asked of him. "I'm sorry?"

"I said," Echizen repeats, drawing out his syllables, looking remarkably blasé, despite having just done the impossible and stumping Tokugawa scant seconds prior. "You won. Do you want your victory blowjob now or later?"

Taken aback, but self-aware enough to refrain from showing it, Tokugawa tries to validate the source of this ludicrous question from memory, and remembers their brief exchange of words during one of the early games of the set.

"If I win, you're going to have to blow me."

Tokugawa almost misses the return shot with that but he recovers in time. "I will do no such thing."

Echizen smirks at him as he returns the ball with a soft drop shot. "So you're afraid of losing then?"

Tokugawa glances coolly at him and secures the next point with a fast drive towards the baseline. "No. I'm going to win."

And he did. When he plays tennis, he focuses on the game, on countering shots and keeping the ball off his side of the net. He doesn't think of anything else. Especially not things like loosely proposed post-victory blowjobs.

Tokugawa returns to the present. "I thought that was a joke."

"I thought it wasn't. Why do you think I played so hard?" Echizen scowls, clearly irritated with his loss. "Anyway, I lost, so unzip your fly, and let's get it over with."

It takes Tokugawa considerable effort to not openly gape at Echizen's bluntness, and he actually takes a step back, all the while racking his brain for a way to get out of this situation gracefully. If there is one. "Look," he starts, ignoring the way one corner of Echizen's mouth quirks up at the Tokugawa's blatant discomfort. "You don't have to."

If anything, Echizen's gaze turns even sharper, more predatory, and Tokugawa immediately regrets his choice of words. No. That's not what he's supposed to say. It's not an outright refusal- it's an answer that still gives Echizen a choice, and puts Tokugawa at an even greater disadvantage.

"I don't back out on promises." Echizen steps closer, insinuating himself casually into Tokugawa's personal space. "It's unethical."

Tokugawa wonders how insisting on sexual favours is any more ethical than refusing them. He looks at the expectant, almost bored look on Echizen's face, and for the first time in pretty much ever, doesn't have any idea what he's supposed to do. So he just goes with, "I don't want to take advantage of you Echizen."

Echizen stares at him with an expression akin to disbelief before throwing up his hands in frustration. "What is it with you guys and your obsession with propriety?"

Tokugawa is even more confused, if such a thing is possible. "Us guys?"

"Never mind. You don't want it, fine. But..." Echizen is suddenly in Tokugawa's face, leaning up, standing on tip toes, and looking him straight in the eye. His eyes are unnervingly bright and filled with a promise of something Tokugawa can't quite place. "You will regret passing me up."

Tokugawa keeps his face level but with great difficulty. "I doubt it."

Echizen exhales and his hot breath ghosts along Tokugawa's jaw, and Tokugawa grips his racket tighter to refrain from reacting. "We'll see about that," Echizen whispers, lips just barely brushing Tokugawa's earlobe. Then he turns around, grabs his things and saunters out the door.

Tokugawa takes a moment to catch his breath, before peeling himself off the lockers with the dignity of a man who received an open invitation to potentially mind-blowing debauchery and politely said "no."

That said, dignity has never felt so hollow. With a groan, he sits down on the bench, rests his elbows on his knees and runs his fingers through his short hair, wondering why he is feeling so foolish about doing the right thing.

The thing is, Tokugawa Kazuya likes things to progress in logical sequence— the concepts of risk and reward, cause and effect, input and output, are tenets he religiously adheres to. But right now, he's failing in convincing himself that there is nothing illogical about turning down the chance to get head from the captain of the most feared high-school tennis team in the Japan.

Tokugawa is into guys. This is a fact. Another fact is, like all guys, he likes oral sex, and wouldn't mind getting it on a regular basis.

Relevant to this is another fact— he hasn't had any for quite some time now, attributable to having no attachments and no inclinations of getting into one.

Another unfortunate but relevant fact: Echizen Ryoma, that cocky bastard, is also breathtakingly hot.

Logic dictates that his answer should have been the one that would have had Echizen on his knees in front of him.

The small, built-in moral compass in his brain feebly reasons that Echizen is underaged, but the point is moot— Echizen is hardly an untainted soul, seeing as he's going around staking sexual favours on tennis matches. If anything, Echizen is dangerous— on court, he is unrelenting and deceptively cruel; off-court, he is capricious and all-too-aware of his own allure, a combination that calls to mind the image of a slow and effective trap, like being mired in quicksand.

The sinking feeling in Tokugawa's gut tells him that rejection or not, Echizen has very much succeeded in luring him in.

When he leaves the locker room, long after Echizen has left, he tells himself that there isn't going to be a repeat performance, and decides to avoid Echizen at all costs.

0

He can't. He suddenly bumps into Echizen in the most unexpected places— the tennis store, the drug store, even the hole-in-the-wall ramen stand that he's pretty sure is completely out of the way from Seishun Kokkou. Every single time, Echizen looks at Tokugawa, smirks at him, and purposely runs the tip of his tongue against his lips, and Tokugawa either has to look away or keep eye contact and hope to appear unaffected. He cannot do the former and is unsuccessful with the latter.

If Echizen's goal is to unnerve Tokugawa, it is working, and working much too well. It completely defies logic, but much to his ever-increasing distaste, Echizen's atrocious lack of propriety is actually turning him on.

One day Echizen follows him into the checkout lane of the local grocery, and tosses a pack of condoms in his cart at the last minute. The clerk takes it and scans it before Tokugawa has a chance to put it back.

Echizen ignores Tokugawa's glare and just grins cheekily at him as he swipes the pack from the plastic bag... and simultaneously slides some bills into Tokugawa's back pocket with his other hand. It takes an almost inhuman force of will for Tokugawa not to respond to the brush of Echizen's palm against the seat of his jeans, the innocuous touch somehow sending a curl of something in Tokugawa's spine.

Echizen draws his hand away with deliberate slowness, the pads of his fingers lightly dipping into the small of Tokugawa's back. "I got plans," he says, holding the square box between two fingers, briefly meeting Tokugawa's impassive gaze before turning around and walking away. "Have a nice time at your party later."

Tokugawa doesn't want to know how Echizen became aware of his social activities, in the same way he doesn't want to know if he's disappointed or relieved that Echizen managed to find an unlucky idiot to address his wanton mating urges with.

The clerk prudently refrains from commenting on anything, and so Tokugawa leaves with his groceries without any further incident. He's going to be late to the party and Oni becomes unbearable when his beer isn't chilled below zero.

0

Five hours later, and several drinks in, he makes a concentrated effort to get to his unit without stumbling, cursing Irie for tricking him into using beer as a chaser for that single Bacardi 151 shot he agreed to. He fumbles in his pocket for his key ring and spectacularly fails at unlocking his apartment door.

"You're using car keys on your door."

Tokugawa closes his eyes and leans against the wall, willing his world to stop spinning so he could stop hearing things.

It doesn't. So he just says, "Echizen." He's supposed to be more surprised than this.

Echizen takes the keys from him, looks critically at each one before selecting the right key, and has the door open in seconds, despite never having been to Tokugawa's apartment. Tokugawa pushes himself off the wall and doesn't say anything when Echizen invites himself in. When Tokugawa stumbles on an errant rubber shoe, Echizen is beside him in a flash, his arm wrapping lightly around Tokugawa's waist. The sudden nearness makes Tokugawa's breath hitch, and he suddenly hates himself for noticing stupid things, like how pleasantly warm Echizen is and how he smells really clean and fresh, like he just got out of the shower.

Echizen helps him into a chair and hands Tokugawa a glass of water, which he drinks gratefully. From the corner of his eye, he watches as Echizen takes a gulp from a can of Ponta he produced from somewhere, noting the slight sheen of moisture on Echizen's neck, the flash of his decolletage beneath his open collar, and the way his adam's apple moves with each gulp.

It's very distracting.

He closes his eyes again. Alcohol. It's all because of the stupid alcohol. He's swearing off Bacardi 151 forever.

A warm and dry hand is suddenly on his temple, fingers pushing aside his bangs. He opens his eyes to find Echizen peering at him, burnt-gold eyes twinkling in wry amusement, and the temperature abruptly feels 10 degrees hotter.

"You're really drunk," Echizen says in a low husky voice which does disturbing things to Tokugawa's groin. "Drink some coke tomorrow morning; regular- none of that zero shit. It helps with the hangover."

Tokugawa hides his traitorous thoughts with a diversionary tactic. "How do you know these things?" he asks, resolutely looking at a water stain on the wall behind Echizen. "You're not supposed to be drinking yet."

"From Oyaji," Echizen replies, shrugging. "Also, I'm American."

Tokugawa tries to make sense of these things and fails. "Right."

Echizen's gaze lingers on him for a few minutes. Then with a quirk of his lips, he turns towards the door. "Well, I'm sure you can handle yourself now," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'll show myself out."

Without thinking, Tokugawa stands up and grabs his wrist. "You're leaving?"

Echizen tilts his head towards him, eyebrows raised. "Is there a reason I should stay?"

Tokugawa takes deep breaths, acutely aware of Echizen's stare, which is slowly transforming from amusement to self-satisfaction. He really should say "no" and just jerk off quietly under a hot shower, let pride win over that other deadly sin. He thinks about how he really hates losing in any way, and the thought that Echizen has already won long ago makes his head hurt even more.

So he stops thinking and responds by shoving Echizen against the wall. He'll deal with the consequences tomorrow.

"You said you had plans," he murmurs against the junction of Echizen's neck and shoulder.

Echizen's laugh is musical and his back arches as Tokugawa lightly bites down. "What do you think this is?"

"You planned this?"

"Not really. I had a suspicion you'd be tanked though." Echizen's mouth slides against Tokugawa's in an easy, languid kiss. "You make it so easy, Tokugawa-senpai."

The way his voice lilts just so at the unexpected honorific sends a shiver down Tokugawa's spine and he thinks how it's really unfair that Echizen could insult him and turn him on at the same time. Before he could say anything, he suddenly feels Echizen's hand slipping something into his jacket pocket and he glances down briefly to see the pack of condoms Echizen made him purchase earlier, unopened. He looks up again to find Echizen watching him expectantly, that annoying air of smug superiority domineering his whole damn face.

"Brat." He takes both Echizen's wrists, and none-too-gently slams them against the wall, high above his head. "You're going to pay for that." He pauses, before adding: "In kind."

He could feel the excitement in Echizen's skin, the pulse point on his wrist beating faster against Tokugawa's thumb. "Gladly."

It's just the alcohol, Tokugawa tells himself, and drags Echizen to bed.

0

It's not just the alcohol.

Waking up the morning after, he expects a quick recovery of his common sense along with the customary hangover.

He gets neither. He makes the mistake of waking up mid-morning to find Echizen lounging lazily on his computer chair, munching on an apple and looking good enough to jump on and fuck ten ways from tomorrow. Even with bedhead.

Especially with bedhead.

A hangover would be really useful right now, but instead Tokugawa gets morning wood and a naked Echizen messily eating fruit on his chair.

Wherever you are Irie, I hope someone is kicking your ass right now. With a sigh, he gets up, keeping his lower body under the blanket, despite the conspicuous tent his hard-on is making.

Echizen grins at him and holds out his hand. "Apple?"

Tokugawa looks at the proffered fruit and thinks he'd much rather suck the juice off Echizen's fingers instead. He leans forward and props his chin up with his hand, meeting Echizen's gaze coolly. "You're getting fruit juice on my chair." Get over here.

Echizen understands the unspoken command. He glances unabashedly at Tokugawa's crotch before walking over and sitting beside him.

Tokugawa plucks the apple from Echizen's hand before he could take another bite. "You know," he starts, placing the half-eaten apple on the bedside table and simultaneously tugging Echizen closer by the wrist. "You are terribly inconvenient."

"But you still want me."

Echizen is infuriatingly arrogant especially when he speaks the truth. Tokugawa says nothing in reply to that. Instead, he takes Echizen's hand and slowly wraps his tongue around Echizen's ring finger, tasting apple juice and the salt of Echizen's skin. "Why me?"

Echizen's watches him with undisguised fascination. "I want you."

"Why?"

"You play good tennis." Echizen sucks in a breath as Tokugawa licks the inside of his wrist. "Also, I may have a thing for older guys."

"What else?"

"You don't talk too much."

"What else?"

"You're hot." Echizen closes his eyes. "Stop asking questions and do that again."

Tokugawa allows himself a tiny smirk and stops what he's doing. "Okay," he says, ignoring Echizen's sulky expression at the loss of stimuli. Time to talk business. "So I take it this is all about screwing."

Echizen's eyes suddenly become alert. "Yeah. And playing tennis."

"Yes." Tokugawa leans forward, shortening the distance between them. "So that's all you're expecting."

Echizen's lips quirk up to a half smile, then he dips his head down, his forehead touching Tokugawa's. "That..." he whispers, eyes luminous at close range. "... is all I want."

There is a vast difference between expectation and want. But Tokugawa approves anyway. "Okay," he says. "If we're going to do this, there has to be rules."

Echizen rolls his eyes at that. "Fine."

The most obvious first. "This can end anytime," Tokugawa declares.

"Given."

"You don't get to top."

"Che."

"You're not reporting me to the police."

Echizen just stares at him.

"What, it's a perfectly valid concern."

He is met with a rather emphatic eye roll. "Whatever. Is that all?"

"Yes. Just one last thing." Tokugawa looks Echizen in the eye, his voice turning serious. "No one else needs to know about this."

"Agreed."

Satisfied, Tokugawa lets go of Echizen's hand. "That's it for now. Are we clear?"

Echizen grins. "Crystal."

"Good." Tokugawa leans back against the headboard, grabs the half-eaten apple from the desk and takes a bite. "Now give me a blowjob."

0

Their mutual agreement, for lack of a better word, works, though with the unfortunate side effect of Echizen living up to becoming a constant source of inconvenience in Tokugawa's life. Echizen likes to make a game of it— in the open, he finds the cleverest ways to get Tokugawa hard until he has no choice but to drag Echizen back to his apartment and fuck him senseless. Echizen just looks entirely too pleased with himself every single time and as much as Tokugawa wants to wipe that smug look off Echizen's face, he couldn't deny that sex with the arrogant bastard is devastatingly hot and any young man worth his salt would have to be mentally unhinged to turn down sex that is freely and wholly given.

They don't speak a word of their arrangement to anyone, and Tokugawa is glad that despite the frequency of their liaisons, neither of them seeks anything more. This way, it is harmless and inconsequential. Neither of them possess the patience to put up with anything more intimate and both have the emotional maturity to stay within the agreed boundaries, however shoddily made. Tennis and sex, nothing more, nothing less.

One Friday afternoon, a month before the Nationals, Echizen dismisses his team early and asks Tokugawa for a match.

They've played a few times before, but their schedules only allow them one-set matches, and anything else was mostly used for fine-tuning their ability to rally with several balls at the same time.

This time, it's different. Echizen specifically made time for this, and only has one ball in his hand. "Three-set match," he says, his expression unusually serious. "Let's play for real."

Tokugawa allows himself a small smile before taking his place at the baseline. "Bring it."

The first serve scorches past Tokugawa like a burst of hellfire, hitting the corner of the service box and ricocheting with a hard slam against the chain-link fence.

Love-fifteen. Tokugawa could feel the excitement thrum in his veins at the prospect of a potentially heart-wrenching game. He hasn't felt it in such a long time.

The second serve is as brutal as the first but Tokugawa catches it, slamming it back with a cross-court drive.

Then the game blurs. It's almost primal, the way his body moves to attack and counter, the way gravity seems to break when he jumps, the way his eyes see nothing except the ball and the person across the net. Their movements seem to light up the court, Echizen's deadly grace countering Tokugawa's effortless balance beautifully. It is tennis- pure, simple and powerful. He can't remember the last time he felt like this.

Tokugawa wins the first set- 6-4, Echizen wins the second, 7-5. Before the third set, they pause for a water break.

Echizen takes a long sip from his grape Ponta. "I'm going pro after graduation," he announces.

Tokugawa's not surprised. "No university for you?" he asks anyway, even though he already knows the answer. These are the best of Echizen's tennis-playing years; which begs the question why he didn't start sooner. It's one of the things Tokugawa's always wondered, but it's a can of worms he does not dare to open.

Echizen just shrugs . "I could always go back to studying after."

"True. Anyone else you know turning pro?"

Echizen is silent for some time. Tokugawa notices that his fingers clench a little tighter around the aluminum can, denting it slightly. Then he finishes his drink and throws the can in the nearby trashcan. "He's waiting," is all he says before standing up and going back to the service line.

The third set pushes them both to tiebreak. By that time, Tokugawa's entire body is protesting, the ache in his muscles pitching to a slow, spreading burn. His clothes are soaked, his skin is slick with perspiration from head to toe, and his eyes sting from the dried salt of his sweat and the glare of the afternoon sun.

All in all, it's the best he has felt in a long time.

Across the net, Echizen looks about the same— sweaty bangs peeking out underneath his cap, calves trembling with the countless split steps they've been forced to make. He is grinning, and Tokugawa can't help but return it with a small smile of his own.

Echizen wins the tie-break with a stunning drop shot that rolls back to the net. Tokugawa recognizes the move a moment too late, and his eyes widen as he realizes its significance, even as he slams on the ground, his racket missing the ball just so.

Dust settles around him. Slowly, he staggers up. The adrenaline rush is still roaring in his blood, and there's a coil of tension in his gut as he forces lactic-acid laced legs to a stand, watching Echizen as he walks over to him. Tokugawa hates losing, but for once, he doesn't feel like the numbers matter. Only this, this heady feeling of weightlessness, of playing an almost ethereal game.

"Good game," he says, holding out his hand for a handshake, only to be unceremoniously yanked down by his shirt, as Echizen crushes their lips together.

"Locker room. Now," Echizen gasps, and his need is so real, so raw, Tokugawa could only comply.

He doesn't pause to think who else could be there to see them, as they stumble into the locker room, the sudden cool air of the air conditioning hitting them sharply like a brick. Echizen lunges at him as soon as the door is shut, his mouth hungry and insistent, hands impatient as they pull down at Tokugawa's shorts. He lets himself succumb to this whirlwind, lets his mind glaze over, knowing nothing except the heat and the sex that Echizen is emitting.

Their clothes make a trail towards the farthest shower stall.

Steam rises around them as Tokugawa fucks Echizen against the shower wall, Echizen's ankles crossed at the small of Tokugawa's back, their mouths fused together. Hot water pounds on his back, joining in the heat of Echizen's body under his, and the searing, velvety tightness around his cock. It was a marvelous, curious sensation, like he's burning underwater, but there's no room to think anymore as he lets himselfsurrender to Echizen's scorching need.

Echizen throws his head back, eyes closed, and for a moment, Tokugawa imagines that there are tears in Echizen's eyes, instead of the rivulets of hot water from the spigot.

And then he hears it.

"Oh god— buchou," Echizen chokes out quietly, and shudders beneath him.

That's when it all starts to make sense.

-fin-

Post A/N: This has been in my WIP dustbin since last year, when the Shin Tenipuri anime came out. I'm not entirely satisfied with how this turned out, as this is supposed to be part of a much longer, chaptered fic, which I no longer have the drive to finish, alas. But it seems a waste to leave this particular bit unposted, so I edited it so that it can stand on its own. Open, kinda inconclusive ending, but sorry, that's how it is. If Konomi gives me new Shin Tenipuri anime and more Tokugawa/Ryoma feels, I might consider continuing it, but for now, this fic is marked complete.

This is probably my last PoT fic in a long while, so reviews shall be greatly appreciated!