It was meant to be a surprise.
Kaidou hadn't spoken to him in over a week now, and if Momoshiro felt any more frustrated, he would explode. It had been a stupid thing that had sparked it off, just like all their other fights, and Momoshiro had sulked so much he had refused to attend the surprise birthday party Eiji had thrown Kaidou at Taka-san's. He had wandered off in a fit of pique instead, and that was when he happened onto the tattoo parlor.
He had regretted it of course, especially when he saw that Kaidou wasn't wearing the new bandanna he had slipped into his locker the morning after, complete with contrite note. If that hadn't been bad enough, his ribs had throbbed for days after the serendipitous discovery, steadily worsening his mood. Their squabbling on the courts grew worse, and even though their game never suffered, Oishi had banned them from playing and made them run laps instead, separately so that they couldn't bicker more. Tezuka would have been so proud.
Momoshiro had had to settle for glaring at Kaidou from across the courts, straining his eyes so much they felt like they would pop right out of their sockets.
He had been careful to change with his body turned surreptitiously towards a wall, but Fuji was as eagle-eyed as ever, and his offhand comment had caused heads to snap up with far, far more masculine interest than Momoshiro had ever wanted fixed on his naked body. It wasn't until then that Momoshiro had realized the tennis clubhouse wasn't all that different from the girls' locker rooms. Between an overly-concerned Oishi and an overly-enthusiastic Eiji, every single tennis club member had learned about Momoshiro's new tattoo by the end of the day, even Buchou. And he hadn't even been at practice.
Well, every single member except Kaidou, who had harked off to his daily torture session that had Momoshiro convinced he was secretly an M. It's really too bad; he had been so excited about showing it to him. Casually, of course. Not like it's an option now, since Momoshiro had overheard Inui on the phone with him earlier. It really was too bad.
Practice had ended late, and Momoshiro was the only one left since he had lockup duty. Trudging to the clubhouse, he tugged off his sweat-soaked shirt without turning on the overhead lights and resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall, never mind how temptingly the satisfaction beckoned. As a compromise, he slammed his fist into it instead.
A soft hiss. "You could have injured yourself, you idiot."
The voice that rang out in the darkness caused Momoshiro to jump, and he flipped the light switch in a hurry, squinting in the sudden brightness. "Mamushi! I thought you'd already left!" Momoshiro pointed an accusing finger at Kaidou, eyes narrowed. His heart was threatening to leap out of his chest.
"Finished early," Kaidou shrugged. "And stop calling me Mamushi," he griped, but they both knew it's merely a token protest now.
He took a couple of steps forward and tilted his head, his gaze zeroing in onto Momoshiro's body. Too late, Momoshiro realized that he had taken off his shirt, and that said shirt had been tossed across the room, way too far for him to grab. He moved to cross his arms over his chest in an attempt to cover up the snake twisting beneath his ribs.
The command froze him midway, and Momoshiro stood awkwardly while Kaidou scrutinized it with excruciating concentration. He looked down, trying to see the tattoo through Kaidou's eyes, stark and black against the paler skin of his chest.
The silence was deafening.
"I, It was meant to be a surprise," Momoshiro offered, nervous. "Suprise?" he continued weakly. Kaidou raised his arm, fingers outstretched. "W-what are you- oh."
Kaidou's fingers were icy despite the sweltering evening heat, the light traces chasing away the trepidation and sending a shiver down Momoshiro's spine. He held himself as still as he could, and though he felt a rush of relief when Kaidou pulled away, he immediately found himself missing it the next second.
"Did it hurt?" Kaidou asked, taking a step back and Momoshiro leaned forward, reflexively chasing after the fleeting touch before he caught himself.
He shook his head, hesitated, then nodded. "A bit. You like it?"
Kaidou shrugged and lowered his gaze. "It's a snake." He didn't look particularly happy, and Momoshiro's heart plummeted. "It's- I didn't know what to get, and the guy showed me a book filled with designs… The snake was the only decent thing in it," he blustered, voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silent clubhouse.
It wasn't, but Kaidou didn't have to know that. Nudging him playfully, Momoshiro grinned and continued, "But good choice, huh? I look really badass now, don't I?"
"Yeah," Kaidou answered, and turned away before Momoshiro could see his expression.
The knot on Kaidou's bandanna was coming loose. The ends of his hair were matted with sweat, evidence of the intensive training he does on a daily basis. Reaching out, Momoshiro slid his fingers through the damp strands, combing through them so they fell in some semblance of order. From this distance, he could smell Kaidou, a familiar mix of tangy sweat and earthiness.
Momoshiro took a deep breath, filling his lungs with Kaidou, and almost lost his footing when Kaidou turned and lunged at him, their lips crashing together hard enough to draw blood. He barely had time to register that Kaidou was kissing him before a tongue thrust into his mouth, tangling with his and drawing out a breathy groan.
Blindly, he wrapped his arms around Kaidou's torso and pulled him flush against his body, one hand moving to rest on his ass, the other slipping under Kaidou's shirt. With his thumb, he drew tiny circles on the base of his spine, making Kaidou shiver and press closer. Momoshiro had missed this, missed Kaidou, for the entire week and a half that they had been fighting with each other, and he was hard pressed to remember what they had been arguing about in the first place.
"I missed you," Kaidou pulled away a fraction to breathe hotly against Momoshiro's lips, hands kneading his ass rhythmically. "So fucking much," he continued, punctuating the declaration with hasty nips along his jawline and down to his neck.
"Me- me too," Momoshiro stuttered, eyes fluttering shut.
He arched his neck to give Kaidou better access and hummed contentedly when Kaidou laid burning, open-mouthed kisses over his pulse. They were straining against each other now, cocks leaving identical wet spots on the front of their shorts. Momoshiro slipped a searching hand past Kaidou's waistband and cupped his erection through his boxers, catching Kaidou's startled gasp in his mouth.
"Fuck yes," he hissed, head falling back. Momoshiro grabbed at his hair to make Kaidou face him, feeling a spike of arousal when he did. Kaidou was staring blankly at him with wide eyes, pupils dilated beyond recognition, mouth slack with pleasure. His lips were reddened and bruised from kisses, and Momoshiro felt a surge of possessive pride at having been the one to put that look on Kaidou's face.
Kaidou was trying to get closer, pressing Momoshiro back against the wall and stretching up to align their cocks. They rutted frantically against each other, mouths nipping and biting at whatever skin they came in contact with, desperate hands clutching at each other. When Kaidou's hand found his cock, Momoshiro let out a broken moan, the edge of his impending orgasm making him crane his neck in search of Kaidou's lips.
He sucked on Kaidou's tongue and felt Kaidou's cock jerk before a rush of wetness flooded his hand, and he looked up just in time to see Kaidou's eyes rolling into the back of his head as shuddered in ecstasy.
"T-Takeshi," Kaidou whispered, and Momoshiro choked helplessly at the force of his own orgasm tearing through his body, vision whiting at the edges as he rode it out.
They were still clutching tightly at each other when they came down from their high, aftershocks wracking through their bodies pleasantly. Kaidou leaned forward and rested his forehead against Momoshiro's cheek. His breaths were coming out in pants and he whimpered when Momoshiro's hand tightened reflexively around his cock.
Withdrawing his hand carefully, Momoshiro wiped it on his shorts with a grimace, then slung it around Kaidou's waist, pulling him into a tight hug. Kaidou shifted closer so he was standing between Momoshiro's legs, lifting his arms to wind them around Momoshiro, returning the embrace. They stood like that for some time, the room silent except for their slowing breathing.
"I got it on the day of the party," Momoshiro confessed, finally breaking the silence, and Kaidou hummed in sleepy acknowledgement. "I didn't just choose it because it was in the book, I chose it because it was a snake," he explained, suddenly anxious for Kaidou to understand, words falling over each other in his haste.
Kaidou huffed out a laugh, hot breath dampening Momoshiro's neck, making him shiver. "I know, you idiot." He pulled back and glanced up at Momoshiro, gaze intense for an instant before he looked away, a red flush climbing up his cheeks. His eyelashes were ridiculously long.
"I love it," Kaidou said seriously, but the effect was rather spoiled by the way he was resolutely refusing to look Momoshiro in the eye. "Thank you."
Momoshiro swallowed and nodded. "Good." He licked his lips , a relieved giggle escaping him. "Good," he repeated.
Content, he tightened his arms around Kaidou, feeling him do the same. No matter how often or fiercely they fought, having Kaidou in his arms never ceased to feel less than right. There was just one more thing, though.
"The bandanna I put in your locker, wear it tomorrow?"
It was phrased as a question, but Momoshiro was so inordinately pleased with the way his tone brooked no argument, Kaidou's answering scowl confused him.
"No fucking way. That thing is hideous." Kaidou pulled away, making Momoshiro blink in surprise. "Why the fuck did you get it in pink?"
"What's wrong with pink?" he managed to get out before something soft hit him in the face. Oh, his shirt. Yanking it out of the way, he stuffed it into his bag and continued, "I look good in pink."
Rolling his eyes, Kaidou snapped, "You would think so, you egotistical dolt."
Momoshiro stared at him in affront. "I know for a fact that I do, Mamushi. Why, are you not enough of a man to wear it?" he mocked.
His vision was obscured by him pulling on a clean shirt, but he heard Kaidou's derisive hiss clear as day. He was clearly gearing up for their next fight. With his face partially hidden by the shirt, Momoshiro smiled.