Ship: Mizuki/Yuuta & Mizuki/Shuusuke Fandom: Prince of Tennis Major tags: Abuse (Emotional manipulation, patient abuse sort of) Other tags: mention of sports injury, abuse of authority Square: Blind Faith Word count: 400
***
Yuuta hissed, a low sound of pain that escaped his lips like a scalded cat running for freedom. His body tensed under Mizuki briefly and Mizuki chuckled dryly.
“Relax,” he said, voice practically a purr. “It has to hurt a little. You know that.”
He rolled his knuckles forwards, working them over the hard muscle of Yuuta’s shoulders. Leaning forwards put his weight onto his knuckles, letting him work with more strength as he patiently worked Yuuta’s lean muscles as if he were kneading dough. Under his hands, the skin was slippery-smooth with oil and Yuuta’s body was warm. The muscles hadn’t had time to stiffen yet so Mizuki pushed his thumbs down, working over Yuuta’s shoulderblades and then down his spine.
Mizuki could feel the plates of muscle moving and the stubborn jut of Yuuta’s vertebrae. The school had a nurse, of course, and the club had enough funds for a massage therapist. Mizuki could have easily had a professional, a fully grown adult with more strength, be the one to work Yuuta’s body over every day.
He preferred it like this. Yuuta stretched out on his stomach, pliable and willing. Yuuta trusting him, Yuuta growing used to the touch of Mizuki’s hands, Yuuta learning that Mizuki’s touch was to be allowed even when it hurt. Mizuki’s hands headeddown lower, reaching the ridge of muscle just under the small of Yuuta’s back. He deftly manipulated it back and forth, sliding it like a long rolling pin, then let his hands drift down to work the top of Yuuta’s ass right where it started to curve.
The next sound that escaped Yuuta’s mouth was a ragged catch of breath almost like a sigh. He shifted under Mizuki, hips brushing against Mizuki’s knees. Mizuki wasn’t quite straddling Yuuta, kneeling above him without actually touching him, but his lower legs bracketed Yuuta’s bare thighs. He could feel the effort it was taking for Yuuta to stay still in the tremble of his thighs and the sudden tension in his spine.
“Mizuki,” Yuuta said, voice a little uneven. “Can you focus on my shoulders again?”
It wasn’t a no. It wasn’t a command to stop. It was a request.
Already Yuuta was ceding control of his body over to Mizuki.
“Of course,” Mizuki said with a smile that Yuuta couldn’t possibly see. “Just as soon as I’m finished here.”
Fill: team the prince of tennis, A1, G
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Major tags: Abuse (Emotional manipulation, patient abuse sort of)
Other tags: mention of sports injury, abuse of authority
Square: Blind Faith
Word count: 400
***
Yuuta hissed, a low sound of pain that escaped his lips like a scalded cat running for freedom. His body tensed under Mizuki briefly and Mizuki chuckled dryly.
“Relax,” he said, voice practically a purr. “It has to hurt a little. You know that.”
He rolled his knuckles forwards, working them over the hard muscle of Yuuta’s shoulders. Leaning forwards put his weight onto his knuckles, letting him work with more strength as he patiently worked Yuuta’s lean muscles as if he were kneading dough. Under his hands, the skin was slippery-smooth with oil and Yuuta’s body was warm. The muscles hadn’t had time to stiffen yet so Mizuki pushed his thumbs down, working over Yuuta’s shoulderblades and then down his spine.
Mizuki could feel the plates of muscle moving and the stubborn jut of Yuuta’s vertebrae. The school had a nurse, of course, and the club had enough funds for a massage therapist. Mizuki could have easily had a professional, a fully grown adult with more strength, be the one to work Yuuta’s body over every day.
He preferred it like this. Yuuta stretched out on his stomach, pliable and willing. Yuuta trusting him, Yuuta growing used to the touch of Mizuki’s hands, Yuuta learning that Mizuki’s touch was to be allowed even when it hurt. Mizuki’s hands headeddown lower, reaching the ridge of muscle just under the small of Yuuta’s back. He deftly manipulated it back and forth, sliding it like a long rolling pin, then let his hands drift down to work the top of Yuuta’s ass right where it started to curve.
The next sound that escaped Yuuta’s mouth was a ragged catch of breath almost like a sigh. He shifted under Mizuki, hips brushing against Mizuki’s knees. Mizuki wasn’t quite straddling Yuuta, kneeling above him without actually touching him, but his lower legs bracketed Yuuta’s bare thighs. He could feel the effort it was taking for Yuuta to stay still in the tremble of his thighs and the sudden tension in his spine.
“Mizuki,” Yuuta said, voice a little uneven. “Can you focus on my shoulders again?”
It wasn’t a no. It wasn’t a command to stop. It was a request.
Already Yuuta was ceding control of his body over to Mizuki.
“Of course,” Mizuki said with a smile that Yuuta couldn’t possibly see. “Just as soon as I’m finished here.”