Disclaimer: I own nothing of this series. I wish I did though. But wishing gets me nothing.

Sleepwalking Romance

A normal June day. Normal practice. Normal Jirou sleeping. Normal Shishido and Mukahi bickering. Normalcy that radiated the month. Atobe could never guess the events that would transpire on this day--events that would send two lives into downward spirals.

Practice ended with much elation. As usual Kabaji hoisted Jirou up, taking the blonde to the clubroom. Atobe stayed behind to monitor the first years as they went about putting the equipment away. Once that task was said and done Atobe returned to the regular's clubroom. Most of the regulars were already dressed, save for Jirou, and ready to leave. Dismissing his large kouhai, Kabaji followed the others out as they left for the day. Taki lingered behind with the excuse of tying his shoe.

"Anou…buchou?" Taki called when the door shut behind the last regular. Atobe sighed, he did not need his Insight to see the second year held affections for him. "Would you like to get ice cream with….me?"

There it was. "No."

"Oh…maybe another time?" he asked, hopefulness pouring from his tone.


Taki left the clubroom with a bright hopeful smile adorning his face. Atobe answered his fan boys the same way he answered his fan girls. Cold and detached. Leaving them with a shred of improbable hope.

Undressing, Atobe wrapped a towel around his waist before proceeding to the showers. He would wake Jirou once his body was cleansed of the filth that lay hidden. The steaming water beat over his dirt riddled skin, relieving stress-tensed muscles. His bangs flattened against his face, heavy with water--blocking his vision of his surroundings. Flipping said hair from his face he shut off the water, feeling adequately clean. He would use his more expensive soaps when he returned home. Never did he bring his expensive products to school, merely the 'cheap' ones.

Wrapping his personal towel back around his waist he headed back into the clubroom. Atobe was about to wake Jirou, but opted against it. The boy would wake himself when he fell off the couch--what with all that thrashing about he was doing. Atobe opened his locker to check his reflection and fix his still flat, water matted hair.

"Keigo," a soft voice whispered, hard crawling over bare shoulder. He turned, surprised to see Jirou blatantly checking out his naked form. Jirou's hand moved from shoulder, down broad chest, towards hip. "You're so hot, Keigo."

Naturally, he had just taken a shower. Wait. "Jirou?"

The blonde leaned forward, his lips centimeters from his buchou's. "Keigo…." his free hand came to caress Atobe's cheek lovingly. "…..so perfect," he whispered, sealing their lips in a sweet chaste kiss.

Never would Atobe have imagined this--Jirou kissing him that is. Jirou pulled away. "Keigo, take me. Make me yours," he pleaded in a whisper. That was when Atobe noticed it. Jirou's eyes were glazed over. Not with lust, no, but with sleep. The boy was sleepwalking. He had no conscious awareness of what he was doing.

"Jirou, wake up," Atobe ordered. Jirou shook his head. He threw his arms around Atobe's neck, resting his head on Atobe's still damp chest. "I love you. I love you so much, Keigo."

Atobe gripped Jirou's shoulder, pushing the blond back to arm's length. "If you were awake, those words would mean a great deal to me." Atobe wouldn't deny he held affections for his childhood friend. He had since they were children, and Jirou was the one person Atobe would accept a true confession. All the more reason, his mind told him, to accept what was happening now. But he was still sensible enough to deny his body's wishes. Soon Jirou would awake and remember nothing of his bold seduction.

"Keigo, please," he begged, bright eyes going wide, plump lower lip pushed out in a pout. In that movement Atobe's sensibility flew out the perpetual window. That day he forsook his morals for the boy he loved.


Jirou awoke the next morning cuddled comfortably in his own bed, his head a little fuzzy. How exactly had he returned home yesterday? He couldn't remember. Maybe Atobe would know. Atobe was usually the one that woke him after practice.

Not only did he not remember coming home, but he also seemed to be covered in lots of bruises that littered his body. Did he fall down the stairs again? That would explain why his backside hurt as well. If he looked he was sure to find a big purple, black, green, yellow bruise. Sugoi for colorful bruises! Jirou quickly dressed before running down stairs for breakfast. Today would be a great day.


"Keigo." Again, just as previous, that voice beckoned him. Atobe had steeled himself, once was enough. He had defiled Jirou enough. Yet, when that same adorable knee weakening pout graced those features, Atobe crashed. Each moan, whine, scream that passed those lips fueled his desires--though he knew this….they were no more than a dream. A dream doomed to end with dawn's approach. They could never be truly together. Only in this dream world could they be two lovers.

For two continuous weeks the level-headed Hyoutei buchou could not find the will to strengthen his resolve. Every evening he told himself to slap Jirou--if necessary--to wake the boy. Yet, every evening ended the exact same. A tangled mess of desperate limbs feverishly making love--on the couch, the table, the shower, any and everywhere. The blonde had become so warm, inviting, accommodating. A sheath fit only for his unknown lover. "Keigo! I…mmm…I….uh….love you," Jirou groaned out between hard thrusts into his body. Atobe leaned forward pressing a kiss to his lover's lips. A deep, brutal, passionate loving kiss. 'I love you, too,' hung unspoken in the air. Because when this dream was over Atobe would be the broken. Atobe's do NOT break. That's why, no matter how much he wanted to, the sentiment would remain unreturned.

As the month passed Jirou still remained none-the-wise to his evening hijinks. And for the weeks it had occurred, everything appeared all the usual--to Atobe's great relief. Gakuto, however, was about the get the greatest shock of his young life as he ran back towards the clubroom. Like a dope, he had forgotten his backpack. Only because Yuushi was distracting him, he claimed. His hand clenched the door knob finding it locked. How could that be? There was no way Atobe finished primping this quickly. Abandoning the door Gakuto went to the windows. Even though the curtains were drawn there was still a crack to be able to see inside. He looked around, spotting his bag on the floor. Now all he had to do was get inside.

He raised his fist to bang on the door when shadows caught his eye. Said eyes widened as the picture cleared and he saw Atobe push Jirou up against the lockers, pounding into the boy roughly--their mouths battling each other relentlessly. "Atobe and Jirou?! Together?" You know what, the bag could wait till tomorrow. All Yuushi's berating he would take for tonight.

The next morning at practice he couldn't help himself but bounce up to Jirou. "So, you and Atobe, huh?"

"What?" Jirou yawned.

"Oh, come on, I saw you guys. I need details. How long? When? How? I wonder if he is bigger than Yuushi?" His head turned back and forth hoping his boyfriend didn't hear that.

"Gaku-kun, it's to early for your random-ness," Jirou yawned, using his balled up jersey as a pillow.

"Random, my ass. I saw you getting fucked by Atobe yesterday."

Jirou waved him off. "You have to tell me how long you guys have been having sex. Don't make me ask Atobe, I'd rather not."

It was then that Gakuto's comments registered in Jirou's brain. He sat up like lightning, eyes wide. "I DID WHAT WITH WHO NOW???"

Many eyes turned in their direction. "Shh…I figured you guys didn't want the entire school to know."

"Know what? I NEVER had sex with Atobe," Jirou heatedly whispered.

"Don't play, I saw you guys. He had you pinned to the lockers, and you were eating each other's faces, and you were definitely enjoying yourself."

"He did not! I did not! I'm a virgin."

Gakuto rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and I'm Buddha."

"Look, I would know if I had…sex. And I have never had sex, especially with Atobe."

Gakuto leaned forward pulling the collar of Jirou's shirt down. "These hickies would say different. Whatever, if you don't want to admit…"

"There is nothing to admit!!"

Later that day, Gakuto planted Yuushi's video camera (for a class, nothing dirty) in a remote location. Tomorrow he would have proof to show Jirou. The next morning he removed the camera, playing it back. Bingo! Perfect angles too. Go him for picking such a perfect hiding place. "Oi, Jirou. Take this and you know, watch it later," Gakuto whispered, slipping the camera to his friend. "Let's see you try to deny it now."

Jirou rolled his eyes. He stayed awake after afternoon practice and left before the others. He didn't actually believe there was anything on the camcorder but he was still curious. Running up to his room he tossed his bag on his bed before sealing and locking the door. Pulling the handheld camera out of his bag he flipped it open hitting the play button.

"Keigo," his own voice called. Atobe turned to him, stroking his hair. "Wake up," the order was a murmur--a desperate pleading whisper. Jirou shook his head, hugging his buchou tightly. "I love you, Keigo." Atobe sighed before taking the boy into a hard kiss. Jirou's eyes widened as he watched things play out on the screen. Tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill over. The strange bruises. The pain he felt. The missing time frames. This! This is where it all was! The camera fell from his hands, said hands coming to cover his face as sobs raked his body. His closest friend had betrayed him in the most disgusting way possible. Atobe had practically raped him.


The courts were silent at the scene that had shocked everyone. Jirou, of all people, walked straight up to their buchou and punched him straight in the face. Atobe glared at the boy, holding his wounded beauty. What had gotten into the boy? What had happened to fill the boy's eyes with so much hate and disgust? The glare on Jirou's face could only mean one thing.

"You know."

"Stay away from me. I truly hate you for this. For what you did to me….have been doing. Don't look at me, don't touch me, don't even condescend to think about me. If you can't do that, I'll resign from the tennis team." With his threat made Jirou stomped off the courts, frightening first years as he went.

"What are you all staring at? Back to practice. Now!" Atobe ordered. No one disobeyed.

When Jirou returned home after the ordeal he found a voicemail waiting for him from one 'Atobe Keigo'. His anger had dissipated somewhat since earlier that day, that didn't stop him from contemplating deleting it, yet, he wanted to hear Atobe's excuse for what he did. Typing in his passcode, the electronic voice told him he had one new message. After it read off the phone number, Atobe's voice began playing.

'Ore-sama is not looking at you, or touching you. Perhaps, technically, ore-sama is thinking about you. Ore-sama…I'm not sure how you found out. Though, you had every right to know about what was happening. This, thing, between us has been happening for almost two months. I tried, desperately, to stop. But hearing you moan my name, telling me you love me…it kept fueling my desire. Fueling that one part of me that wanted it to be real, even if I knew it wasn't. I can't justify what I did, I won't deny that. But, I can't stop myself from thinking about you, touching you, looking at you, kissing you……'

No! Why did his stupid phone cut off? Why hadn't Atobe left another message in continuation. What was he going to say? Not that Jirou was going to forgive him for this, but he had to know. He stared at his phone, praying it would ring, praying Atobe would call to finish the message. Jirou fell asleep, just hoping.

Jirou jolted awake at the sound of his phone playing music. He looked at the clock that read 2:13 in the morning, who the hell was calling this early. Picking up the phone, his heart stilled at the name displayed. He flipped it open, sending the call straight to voicemail. After which he closed it, praying it would vibrate moments later with the alert of a new voicemail. He really really hated Atobe, he just wanted to hear what he had to say. Yeah, that's it.

He sat with bated breath. "Vibrate. Vibrate," he pleaded in a whisper. Why wasn't the phone vibrating? Had Atobe truly listened to him? Seconds later the phone vibrated with a new message. Jirou ripped the phone open, hitting his passcode as fast as possible. He bounced in irritation at the stupid female voice that repeated off Atobe's phone number.

'Ore-sama…I….I have decided. Jirou it is impossible for me to avoid you, even with your clear disdain of me for this. I have a black eye, I thank you for that. What I did was irrefutable; as such, I will step down as captain of the tennis team…'

"No," Jirou whispered.

'You need not see me or be reminded of what I did. I abused my position and allowed my hormones to take control of me, as such I do not deserve the position. Heh, in the end, I'm the broken one after all. I had a wonderful dream, but it wasn't real. Nor will it ever be. If only…..I could hear you say those words again…. 'I love you, Keigo.'….Jirou, for once in my life, I detest myself. It may be worth nothing, but Jirou, I….'

DAMNIT!! Stupid assigned length. Always cutting off people. Quickly, without thought, Jirou's fingers hit the speed dial bringing his phone to his ear. It rang and rang and rang and rang. The voicemail kicked on. "DON'T YOU DARE RESIGN!! IF YOU QUIT EVERYONE WILL KNOW IT WAS MY FAULT!! AND WHAT WERE YOU ABOUT TO SAY?? YOU TO CHICKEN TO FINISH THE STATEMENT!! OF COURSE YOU ARE!! YOU WERE TO CHICKEN TO ACTUALLY APPROACH ME WHEN I WAS AWAKE!! SO YOU WENT AND RAPED ME WHILE I WAS SLEEPWALKING!! I WAS SO STUPID TO EVER CONSIDER YOU MY BEST….."

"I love you," the low drawling voice said.


"Did you honestly think I wouldn't answer the phone? You are foolish Jirou. You wanted to know what I was going to say and that is it. I love you and nothing will ever change that. Oyasumi nasai!"

"Don't you dare hang…" To late. The phone went dead with a beep.


No one left Jirou alone. They weren't sure what happened between him and Atobe, but they felt it necessary to protect the fragile boy from their captain.

"I'm sorry, Jirou-sempai," Choutarou apologized while Shishido and Gakuto played a match.

"For what?"

"For what Atobe-buchou did to you?"

"How did you…."

"Mukahi-sempai is quite the motor mouth. Of course, I doubt he realizes that the act was nonconsensual. Then again, you can't rape the willing."


"You and buchou have known each other since childhood. He's been a regular figure in your life as long as you can remember, the only problem being he is the object of everyone's affections that makes him almost completely inaccessible to you."

"He is not inaccessible," Jirou argued.

"I don't mean physically, I mean emotionally. These 'acts' happened in a sleepwalking state. The truth is, the only reason you were upset is because you weren't aware of the act. You love Atobe-buchou, you are in love with him. You're scared that Atobe only wanted your body and cared nothing for what you felt. But he loves you, loves you more than anything in this world," Choutarou said.

Jirou blushed. "How can you tell?"

"He treats you better than anyone hear. Gives you special treatment. Leniency. Bought that couch for you. Watches after you. Has Kabaji tot you around everywhere. Helps you with your homework. Even drops 'ore-sama' around you. Not to mention that soft look he reserves only for you."

"Are you a therapist or something," Jirou laughed.

"No, my mom is. I just picked up a few things," Choutarou blushed.

Jirou patted his kouhai on the shoulder. "Don't be embarrassed. You've really helped me see things in a different perspective. Thanks."

"Oh, no problem."

After practice Jirou feigned sleep on the couch. Everyone figured if he felt safe enough, once again, to sleep they would leave him to it.

"Buchou? Is something the matter?"

"Leave ore-sama alone."

"You love Jirou-sempai, don't you? The rumors are everywhere. I don't think anyone actually believes you…raped him."

There was a crash against the lockers. "And if ore-sama did the same to you, would you think it all folly then."

"Feel free to. Jirou-sempai hates you, but I will always revere you, love you. Keigo-buchou, take me as your lover. Your vassal. I won't resist, nor will I punch you."

"Would you still say that, even when ore-sama calls his name while taking you?"

"If that is your wish, I am Jirou. You never have to play with dreams or reality. There is just me."

Atobe sighed. Jirou cracked an eye open to see Taki lay his head against Atobe's chest. "I love you, Keigo."

"Heh, you've spied on ore-sama. That would be the only way you would know Jirou did that. The only problem," Atobe pushed Taki away. "You don't compare to him. Leave."


"Ore-sama said LEAVE!!"

The brown haired boy ran from the clubroom with a slam of the door. Atobe sighed before leaving to take his shower. When he returned Jirou decided to place his plan into action. Walking up to the taller male he called his name before wrapping his arms tightly around Atobe and placing his head against his chest. "I love you, Keigo," he said in the same fashion as the recording. He wasn't exactly sure what he was try to accomplish. Testing Atobe's resolve? Actually pleading for sex? He didn't know.

Strong arms wrapped around him pulling him close. So Atobe would repeat his past mistake? Jirou should have known. The words 'I love you' meant little to the spoiled heir. "Jirou," sighed Atobe. "No matter what happens I will always love you." Jirou could hear Atobe's heart beating with sincerity. "I wish I could have you in reality. I wish I could taste you one last time, quite like the forbidden fruit, but…."

"Trembling," Jirou grumbled.

Atobe chuckled. "Sayonara, my Jirou."


"Akutagawa, 30 laps!"

"For what?!"

"Sleeping. No one sleeps during ore-sama's practice. Now, go!" Atobe ordered.

"Hai!" Jirou mumbled. He had grown some what use to this change in Atobe's personality, but that didn't mean he like it. A part of him wanted to turn back time and have Keigo back. Heh, that wouldn't happen. What is done is done. Once his laps were completed, Jirou went to the water fountains to quench his thirst and wash his face.

"That boy punched Keigo-sama!"

"I heard Keigo-sama raped him," the girl scoffed. "He wishes. He's nowhere near Keigo-sama's league."

"Besides Keigo-sama is NOT gay. Eww….can you imagine what two guys do together. So gross."

Jirou tried to ignore the girls that obviously knew he was there and trying to push his buttons.

The girls continued on. "I mean if Keigo-sama was gay he could do MUCH better than that."

"I know, that blonde curly hair, those blue eyes. Is he really Japanese?"

"Perhaps he is German, or worse, American," the snitty leader chortled. Jirou shut off the water and made to pass by them. He made sure to bump his shoulder into the ringleader. "How rude!"

"Yeah. Well it's rude to talk about people behind their backs," Jirou retorted.

Day after day passed after that incident. Keigo treated him no differently then the rest of the team and the gossip never dissipated. In fact, the gossip continued on, becoming even more and more scandalous by the passing day. Jirou had learned to block all this useless, spiteful chatter from his ears.

"Want to hear the worse," the ringleader, Megumi, chattered. "He actually told Keigo-sama that he loves him. A boy like that in love with Keigo-sama. Well, regardless. The other day Keigo and I had quite the rendezvous--if you catch my drift."

The other girls squealed in excitement. "He even marked me as his own."

That was it. Jirou had had enough of this. Not because he was suddenly jealous, that was definitely not why he snapped. "Everyday with you stupid fan girls. Kyaa! Kyaa! Over a guy you don't even know!"

"Oh shut up, Akutagawa! You're just as bad with your cheering and constant 'sugees.'"

"That's who I am. Not an act I put on just to amuse myself. And Megumi, Keigo didn't leave that mark. Kerino from class 2-B did. The only rendezvous you've probably had with Keigo is throwing yourself at him and then him throwing up in disgust."

The team stared in shock. No one thought Jirou had it in him to be this vicious. Then again no one could get through Hyoutei being rainbows and kitty cats all the time.

Megumi glared her fiercest. "Oh, and I bet nobody raped you. Some whore you picked up fucked you and you decided to make a story of it. Get attention. That is what you do, right? The truth is, only I can please Keigo. After all our parents are close friends and we are practically destined for each other. Him, the future CEO of Atobe Corp. and me, the heiress to the Fujiwara fortune. Match made in heaven."

"Right, because I make up things sooooo often. If it was such an extraneous act why did Keigo continue to have me for two months."

"YOU LIE!!!"

Jirou dug into his tennis bag and pulled out the video camera. Behind him Yuushi murmured, 'that's where my camera went'. "I have proof. Keigo loves me."

"Lies! He treats you as cold as everyone now. You may have been friends in the past but you are just a middle-class nobody. Besides Keigo is NOT GAY!!!"

"What is going on out here? Ore-sama should see practicing not standing around making idle chit-chat. Go practice or leave the courts," Atobe ordered glaring at the 200 members. They jumped into action knowing Atobe's wrath would be coming soon when he found out the source.

Megumi smiled at Keigo. "I dare you to speak such idiocy now with Keigo standing within earshot."

Jirou looked up at his former friend, his sharp tongue dieing away. "I….I…."

Megumi and her band cheered in victory. "As I thought. Keigo-sama, this boy has been spouting such impudent things."

She leered at the blonde, smirking at the tears running down his face. "And now he is crying? How weak. Pathetic even," she said linking her arm with Keigo's. Atobe glared at her for a moment before unlinking their arms.

"Keigo," Jirou took a deep breath. "I love you, I will always love you. Your dream….my dream was you and only you. I was scared, but I'm not anymore. I'm not."

"Heh, now he is running. Keigo, you don't need friends like that anyway."


The doorbell rang out through the Akutagawa house. Jirou refused to move from his bed, even if his grandparents were the only ones with him. He could here his grandmother talking in a friendly tone to the visitor--telling the visitor that the family had gone to Sendai for the week and would not return till late. The elderly woman chuckled before the door closed and footsteps were coming up the stairs. There soon came a soft rasping sound on his door.

"Go away, obaa-san, I'm not hungry."

The door opened. "I'm not your grandmother."

Jirou's head shot up, his body moving before he had time to process what was happening. He threw himself on Keigo, hugging the other teenager vice like in his arms. Atobe gave a chuckle, his arms coming to wrap around Jirou's waist. "Are you awake?"

"I think. I'm really sorry. I…I was scared. Scared that you didn't actually love me, but then….."

"I gave you up and just as I intended, it proved I was serious."

"Wait, you mean, all this…this past week has been a test, to prove your love for me?"

"Mainly Oshitari's idea, I assure you, but yes. The rumors were not my doing. Someone has been spreading those and ore-sama will get to the bottom of that."

"I…I believe you are sorry for taking me while I was asleep. But can I ask why? Why you did it?"

"Other than love. I tried to push you away, wake you, anything, but every time you would pout in this most….erotic manner and I would lose my mind. Ore-sama is only mortal after all. And when the one you desire so wholly is throwing themselves at you, well…..Not only that, but you begged for me to take you."

Jirou stepped back. "Then you must return the favor," he said, going to close his door and locking it. Atobe raised an eyebrow in confusion. "If you truly want me you must prove it."

"I already have…."

"No. Throw yourself wholly at me, get on your knees and beg me for it," Jirou blushed. Atobe scoffed. "Are you serious, Jirou?"

"Very. This is your chance to finally have me awake and all you have to do is get on you knees and plead."

"Not in this life time."

Jirou pouted. "So you don't love me that much? Your pride means more to you?"

Kami-sama above, not the pout. Against his will and inner wishes, Atobe lowered to his knees. Inwardly, his mind was rioting. Jirou's eyes widened. He didn't think Atobe would actually do it. Wow, the pout really worked. Jirou wondered if he could play the part of a seducing minx, kind of like in Oshitari's books. Making the man bend to every whim of his lover.

His hand came to caress Keigo's cheek, making the silver follow his every movement. When the heir moved to get up, Jirou pushed him back down. "Stay on your knees, till I lay on the bed," he whispered. Jirou led his buchou back towards the bed, his knees bumping against the edge making him fall. Keigo stayed on his knees, knowing he was at Jirou's mercy for the moment. Blue eyes stared down at the heir, searching, thinking of an order. His sleeping self may have copious amounts of sexual instinct, but the awake Jirou's knowledge was severely lacking. "Worship my lower half," he ordered, trying to keep his face from turning red. That command sounded bad even to his own ears.

Keigo chuckled lightly before pulling Jirou's sleeper pants down enough to release the soft flesh within. Jirou swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes trained on Keigo as the silver's mouth lowered over him. He felt a jolt of warm sharp pleasure shoot through him. A hard suck followed causing him to hardener, pleasure roaring through his body. Even if he wasn't a virgin, this truly felt like his first time to experience this feeling. Then again, technically speaking it was his first time. Keigo bobbed his mouth on the growing flesh, sucking hard, with teasing licks. Jirou gasped out, hand unconsciously gripping thin strands of hair, hips thrusting upwards. "More," he gasped, as that sinful tongue teased his slit. The back of his other hand covered his mouth, muffling his squeaks of pleasure. Something was coiling in his lower stomach, threatening to burst. "Kei-Keigo," he gasped in a half attempt at a warning. It was to late. The coil unfurled, liquid pouring forth into Keigo's mouth. He gasped both in release and embarrassment. "Gomennasi!"

"No need to apologize," Keigo told him whipping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. He place the digits in his mouth, sucking the fluid remnants off as a little show for Jirou. "Your next order?"

"I-uh.." What was supposed to come next? He was confused. Did he need to return the favor for Keigo? Or did they kiss? Make-out? "Um….prepare me?" Was that right? Could boys be prepared?

"Don't say it as a question. Order it of me. I am to pay, correct?"

Jirou nodded, trying to summon his Hyoutei spirit. "Prepare me, then," he ordered, laying back on his bed. Keigo nodded, pulling Jirou's sleeper pants completely off. It greatly amused him that Jirou went commando underneath the soft pant material. He pushed Jirou's thighs apart, revealing the familiar ring of muscle. Just the sight of Jirou's puckered entrance made him almost come in his pants. He gave no warring to his plan. Jirou was not a virgin, he didn't need to be stretched far, but it would still be fun to make him writhe.

Jirou's eyes widened in disbelief. "Ahh…." he gasped out, trying to stay quiet as to not alert his grandparents. This felt so incredible. Keigo's tongue thrust in and out of him, teasing his inner walls. Toying with him. He bit his lower lip trying desperately to keep from thrusting against Keigo's tongue. "Keigo……" he moaned almost pleadingly. "St-stop."

He did as order, backing off and looking up at Jirou's flustered features. "Yes?"

"Strip," he ordered breathily.

"I will need to get to my feet to do that."

"No, stay on your knees and strip for me."

Keigo shrugged. His hands went to the hem of his shirt pulling it up slowly, allowing each inch of teasing skin to be revealed for Jirou's view. Jirou felt his hand going to his arousal, stroking himself as Keigo tossed the shirt aside running a hand down his perfectly tanned muscled torso. Faintly Jirou realized he was pleasuring himself as Keigo's hands went to his pants. He gasped as his own fingers entered his delicate tight entrance. "Kei-" he moaned, rolling his own balls.

Keigo stood up slightly to pull his pants off. He too did not wear underwear. Most of his casual wear consisted of tight pants. Tight pants and underwear do not mix. Again Jirou's eyes widened. This time at the sheer girth that is his lover. That organ had already taken him many times, but this time he was seeing for real. "Get on the bed," Jirou ordered, fingers finding his prostate almost making himself scream.

Once again Keigo did exactly as ordered, sitting next to Jirou on the small twin bed. He ran a delicate hand across Jirou's sweat covered chest earning a shiver of delight. "Kiss me," was the next order. He eagerly obliged. Leaning forward he sealed their mouths together, tongue finding Jirou's immediately. The wet appendages dancing around each other in a perfected dance. Without prompt, Keigo's left hand slid down the length of Jirou's body. Further down to add his own two fingers along with Jirou's. Jirou groaned into Keigo's mouth, forcing them to break the kiss. "Uh….Kei…."

"Yes, love?" He shoved his fingers into Jirou's prostate, making the blond scream. Luckily he kissed him in time to catch the sound of pleasure. Jirou may have forgotten the presence of other occupants, but he had not.

"Take me." The order was innocent with large fawn eyes. Not so much an order as a request.

"Hai," Keigo agreed, removing his own fingers. Jirou released himself, prostrating himself fully to Keigo. "Turn around and lay on the pillows it will be more comfortable."

Jirou did so pulling his knees up for easy access. Keigo climbed between Jirou's legs, leaning forward to give his lover a chaste kiss before he pushed into the familiar heat. He groaned out as Jirou whimpered at being stretched. Inwardly Keigo was praying this not be a dream. That after this was done Jirou would still be with him. It hurt to think this might not be real, but it was. He knew that.

Jirou couldn't stop himself from giggling earning a heated stare from the teen above him. "What?"

"Nothing. You just….fit so perfectly inside me. Feels good," he smiled, licking his lips.

"You think this feels good, then just wait," Keigo smirked, pulling out and slamming back in.

"Ah…" Jirou involuntarily squeaked. He had not expected such a hard brutal thrust. Keigo repeated the movement, pushing Jirou's body up, the headboard hitting the wall with a small thump. Over and over he repeated the same methodical brutal thrust into his lover. Enjoying every single little gasp and plead that fell from those lips.

Slow and steady felt incredible but it wasn't getting them where they needed. Hitching Jirou's leg up a little further he began pounding relentlessly. "Oh….kami-sama…yeah," Jirou cried out, grabbing Keigo for a hard kiss. "Fu-fuck m-me, Kei-Keigo."

"Ji-Jirou," he groaned, biting into Jirou's neck.

A knock resounded on the door making the two freeze in their actions. "Jirou, what is going on in there?"

"My grandmother," he mouthed. The smirk he received was not a reassuring sight. Keigo rolled his hips down, thrusting straight into Jirou's prostate. "Yameru!" he ordered through a moan. "She'll hear."

"Tell her you fell off the bed, that's all," Keigo whispered, thrusting slowly into his lover.

"I-uhn-fell…that's all," he called, trying to keep his voice steady. For some reason he felt his body reacting to the fact that his grandmother was standing right outside his bedroom door. The thrill of being caught, perhaps? His hand went to his arousal, jerking rapidly as Keigo continued to drill into him at a slowed pace.

"I heard the headboard banging against the wall. Jirou, what are you doing in there?" They both could easily hear the skepticism in her voice. She may be old but she obviously wasn't ignorant.

"O-okay, you…you ca-caught me….I wa-was jum-jumping on the be-bed," he called. Keigo hit his prostate making Jirou silently scream. They were both nearing their orgasms and his grandmother needed to leave so they could finish.

"You like this Jirou?" Keigo whispered, hitting Jirou's prostate dead-on again.

"Jumping on the bed?" Again the tone of skepticism laced her voice. Keigo rolled his eyes and pulled out of Jirou. He pulled on Jirou's wrist, motioning to the floor. "Atobe-kun, was Jirou jumping on his bed?"

"We were playing a card game," he supplied. 'Ride it,' he turned and mouthed to Jirou. Jirou gave him a smirk, sinking down on the large sex organ--moaning into Keigo's neck. "Ore-sama's finds it to be a bit plebian but Jirou requested to play it and seeing as we had a fight recently ore-sama was willing to play."

How was Keigo keeping his voice so steady?

Keigo placed his hands on Jirou's hips, forcing the boy to bounce on him while Keigo continued the conversation. "Jirou is wining quite a bit and you know how he gets when he's excited."

"Yes. Yes. The boy does act a little younger than his years, doesn't he? I remember when he was younger…."

They took her moment of reminiscent as cover to voice their moans slightly. Their mouths found each other again, as Keigo grabbed Jirou's hips forcing the blond down hard as his orgasm approached. The woman continued to speak--lost in her memories. "Kei-go," Jirou moaned out, hot come spraying over his hand and Keigo's chest. Keigo thrust up into Jirou, emptying himself deep within the blond. One last time their mouths found each other in a loving desperate kiss.

"…my look at me. I must be boring you. Well you boys continue on with your game. Jirou, no more jumping on the bed."

"Hai, obaa-san," he called. They both listened in silence as the woman's footsteps disappeared down the stairs. Keigo turned his attention back to Jirou, pressing their foreheads together. "Forgive me?"

"I guess."

"No guessing, Akutagawa. Yes or no?"

"I believe service is still mine, Atobe. You have a lot of making up to do and apologizing."

"Than can I request that the apologizing continue at my house. With no interruptions?"

Jirou kissed Keigo, playfully nipping at the heir's bottom lip. "Sounds like a plan."

He loved the narcissistic heir, but he wasn't ready to fully forgive him just yet. Then again he had never had the courage to approach the unattainable. A part of him thanked their sleepwalking romance for giving him the one thinking he always wanted. "I love you, Keigo."

"I love you, too."

Those words would never get old and hopped to hear them plenty more in the future.