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"Hey," Matsuo tries to reason, meeting Ebumi with kind eyes, "don't run away. The match isn't over yet."


For a moment Ebumi really considers sticking around, if for no other reason than because his friend asked him to. He glances down at the gentle hand holding his arm, urging him to just see it through, but he's too humiliated and too angry to be quelled by even Matsuo's tenderness.


"Nah," he says through tight lips, trying to keep an even tone, "fuck this, I'm out."


He pulls free then, but Matsuo lets him go without resistance. It was probably asking too much of him right now. To be fair, anyone would probably want to go and hide after being publicly upstaged by the captain like that.


It's just as well Ebumi isn't around to see it when Sekizan opts to put Gion in the game, that would be a real kick in the balls to their already dishonoured winger after telling him they wouldn't be changing the lineup.


Despite still losing to Keijo, the team are in high spirits as they troop back to the changing rooms.


"Taku," the mellow brunet calls gently to the captain before they enter the clubroom. Sekizan nods, understanding the quiet request to talk as they stand aside and let all the others go in first, offering words of praise and head pats as they go past.


"Toshi," he begins once they're alone, "what did you think? Have we im—"


"You didn't need to go that far, Taku."


"Eh?" the captain blinks.


"With Ebumi. I know he's not much in the teamwork department, but you're wrong about him not working hard in practise."

Stunned, it takes the captain a moment to think of how to reply to that.


"Well... that doesn't mean he's fit to play in every match. If he is working hard he needs to be doing it where we can see his progress for ourselves," Sekizan refutes, standing by his actions.


"I agree. He needs to start joining in and learning to work with the team," Matsuo grants, "but he looks up to you like all of the first and second years, would it kill you to be a little kinder to him?"


The captain sighs. In his frustration during the match, Ebumi had been an easy and deserving target by coming up to him all arrogant and self-assured, saying how they couldn't win without him.


That had definitely pissed Sekizan off, and in the moment it seemed fair to take him down those few pegs in front of everyone, but perhaps it had been a bit too cruel after all?


"I'm not saying you have to apologise, he can be a cocky little shit and he deserves whatever's coming to him for that," Matsuo smirks, as if he just read Sekizan's mind.


"But please don't ostracise him, he does that enough to himself."


He resigns with a pat on the shoulder, leaving his thoughts with his friend as he enters the clubroom to get changed.


For Ebumi, however, after having come here to hide, things can't get much worse once the other boys barrel in. They're rowdy and singing Gion's praises for some reason.


He soon learns that the shitty first-year was put in the game. To hear that after Sekizan had said no to him is enough to undo half an hour's worth of introspection, and now Ebumi is in furious tears again as he stays out of sight but torments himself by continuing to listen in.


He's their winger, he's the fastest, he should be the hero of the team. If Sekizan had only let him play they'd all be praising him.


He hears Matsuo's voice then and it makes his chest tighten. What he wouldn't give to have him at his side right now reminding him he's still valuable to the team. He seems to be the only one that thinks so, too.


It starts to quieten down steadily as the numbers dwindle. Fortunately Sekizan's words of praise to Gion don't exceed a simple, "you did well today," accompanied by a pat on the head, and soon the captain is the only one here.


He'd heard Matsuo say he was going to look for him, so maybe now would be a good time to come out of hiding. He wants to apologise for disobeying him and just talk things out with his Matsu-san as they walk home, but something else takes ahold of Ebumi and before he knows it, it's Sekizan he's revealing himself to.


"Oh, Ebumi, there you are," Sekizan says dully as he shrugs his school shirt back on and starts fiddling with the buttons, only offering a moment's acknowledgment with eye-contact.


"Toshi is looking for you, you should probably go and meet him."


"He can wait," Ebumi answers with an equal coldness.


"Excuse you? It's not very polite to keep your elders waiting," the number eight frowns, stopping what he's doing and glancing up sternly with that stare like molten lava.


Ebumi shrugs, smirking as he sees he's got a rise from Sekizan.


"He don't mind."


"Tsh, and you're damn lucky! He's the only one that lets your behaviour slide but don't try it with me, Ebumi," the captain erupts, storming over to herd the winger up against the lockers.


Any amount of sympathy Sekizan had been prepared to show him is long gone now, and though Ebumi retreats, he keeps that smirk plastered to his face, anticipating the hand that grabs his collar again.


"Y'know the only reason I ran away was 'cuz ya' got me so hard grabbin' me like this."


"What?!" Sekizan snaps in confusion.


"I ain't lyin', look!" Ebumi snickers, gesturing with a flicker of his gaze down at the tent in his shorts.


Sekizan drops him abruptly, blushing even though he's still wearing a scowl.


The blond coughs a bit with the relief from the pressure on his neck, but straightens up and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand before throwing another dangerous taunt.


"Keh, looks like it works on you too, ya' must like throwin' us around, huh?"


"Now what are y—"


"Want somewhere to put that, captain?" the winger gestures again, this time at Sekizan's crotch which is sporting a much more impressive bulge.


"Damn, yer a big boy, I though ya' would be b—"


The captain goes in again and slams Ebumi against the locker to silence him, knocking that breath out of him before he can finish it.

"This is just— it has nothing to do with you!"


Earning only a cocky grin in response to that, the captain throws the disobedient delinquent down on the benches instead.


Sekizan isn't having it even as Ebumi turns onto his front and tries to scramble away though. He pulls the blond back along the smooth surface with ease, holding him by the waistband of his shorts and boxers.


"Wait, okay-okay!" Ebumi concedes, suddenly feeling a lot less playful now that Sekizan seems genuinely mad, and he's most certainly terrifying when he's mad.


Ebumi gives a feeble whimper, stilling for a moment to see if Sekizan will let go of him. He doesn't. He just holds him there.


The winger licks his lips nervously. Not being able to see the captain's face is almost as intimidating as being stared down by it.


He tries prying Sekizan's hand away and succeeds, but instead of pulling his shorts up indignantly and making a huffy escape, he lets them pool in the crooks of his knees and pulls his bare cheeks apart, grunting as he lowers his front to balance without his arms.


"This... is what ya' want, right? L— like this?"


Wherever Ebumi got that idea from is probably more influenced by what he wants, of course. Sekizan, on the other hand, is caught between a flurry of disgust and embarrassment.


"S-stop that!" the redhead berates, averting his eyes from the direct sight of Ebumi's bleached asshole.


Mistaking his captain's flustered tone for heated desire, the little yankii does exactly the opposite, and huffs with the effort of maintaining his balance as he brings his right hand further around and hooks the tip of his middle finger inside.


Sekizan winces, having made the error of glancing at the desperate and lewd display, but the more Ebumi starts to huff and the further his finger disappears into, then escapes the tightlipped clasp of his asshole, the more taught Sekizan's trousers become, and the more he hates it.


"Enough. Stop this now," he grunts, anger flickering back into the boiling pot of feelings and prompting him to make a stand.


He goes to grab the offending hand that's already lost two fingers to the greedy pink orifice, but Ebumi is quick, and grabs Sekizan's hand right back, tugging until the very tip of his finger touches him and the captain revolts.


"Ebumi! I don't want to be a part of your lewd fantasy! Let go!"


"Please! Please captain!"


There's silence to follow the unexpectedly genuine plea. Sekizan even stops trying to retract his hand, he just lets Ebumi's sticky grip hold it there, inches from his anus.


"It's just gunna' feel awkward as fuck if— if... well I already feel like an idiot now..." the blond laughs mirthlessly, letting go of the tense hand in his shaky grasp. He's reluctant, but he tells himself to stop before he does something really pathetic.


This was all just out of nowhere anyway, he hadn't planned for any of this, he just saw a chance to get back at Sekizan for humiliating him but even he hadn't counted on his anger taking him this far.


Begging to be fucked by someone clearly uninterested is lower than he's willing to stoop though, no matter how badly he wants it right now.


He sits up then, curling in on himself and keeping his posture small as he leans back on his calves with his knees tucked underneath him.


"W-when ya' said I'm the fastest man on the team... I was really glad, I thought that meant ya' were gunna' put me in to play... but then ya' chose that pipsqueak over me, s-so I wondered... should I even bother comin'?"


He doesn't look comfortable, but he obviously daren't move in case he catches Sekizan's gaze and embarrasses himself even more.


"Ya' don't... like me, do ya', captain? I mean like... ya' don't want me here, do ya'?"


Sekizan exhales through his nose slowly, rolling his shoulders as he rights his posture and wrings his wrist.


He's kind of affronted by the vulnerability their resident delinquent is showing; acting all submissive and masking a slight tremor in his tone with a hasty sniffle.


Still, he can bear to answer him at least, now that he's no longer addressing an asshole... well, not in the literal sense anymore.


"I don't like your attitude, your aversion to and underestimation of teamwork, and I don't like that you only listen to Toshi."


"But he's the only one that listens to me!" Ebumi chokes, containing himself the split-second after he blurts that out.


"I wasn't.... I wasn't tryna' be disrespectful when I asked ya' to let me play... I jus' d— I don't always know how to approach people—"


That sounds like the kind of thing Matsuo has told him as a way of comfort, but Sekizan has heard enough. He's not really interested in Ebumi's social ineptitude or his inability to show respect, or whatever lacking function he's trying to excuse. He just wants to go home and forget the interaction, frankly.


Ebumi is better off in Matsuo's jurisdiction anyway. He sees something in him worth looking after so he can be the one to help the winger flourish. Sekizan has enough work with the first-years, namely Gion, who, while enthusiastic, is about as much trouble as two Ebumis.


The winger hiccups and gulps audibly when two coarse hands appear at his hips and raise them to their previous position.


"Are you comfortable?" Sekizan asks without thinking. He doesn't have a clue what he's doing, but he can probably copy the actions Ebumi performed on himself with his fingers.


He shouldn't need any more than that anyway, should he?


As someone who's as adverse to masturbation as he is to sex in general, Sekizan has no idea what wonders are worth exploring in his own ass, but if it satisfies the weepy winger and stands for some kind of an olive branch between them then good enough; he could deign to delve a few fingers into this boy.


"Ah~ Captain!" Ebumi keens.


"That tone is hardly necessary, I haven't even touched you yet," the regretfully blushing forward says coldly.


He knows Hachi would have no complaints if he were to tell him about this, but the fact that Ebumi is the first boy he's ever fingered makes him oddly resentful, even if he's the one putting himself up to it.


Why couldn't Hachi be here now anyway? If there's anyone best suited to diffusing tension, it's him.


Ebumi fidgets a little to try and get Sekizan's attention, he can't see over his shoulder but he's not sure what's taking so long for the captain to get started.


It works though. Pulled from his stupor by the wriggly backside of the needy yankii, Sekizan grunts and tries the thing Hachi always does to him where he pulls down with his thumb to open up his puckered asshole, then dips his tongue inside.


Ebumi jolts.


"Woah! Ah~ I din't think ya'd lick it," he pants excitedly.


"I'd appreciate it if you didn't commentate," Sekizan sneers. There wasn't much to taste but it still leaves a nasty feeling on the tip of his tongue.


Fingering him will be just fine, he decides, making a gun with his right hand and plunging the two fingers that make the barrel into Ebumi's ass.


It isn't long before the blond is rocking back into him, aching for more stimulus than just the stiff in and out motions that barely even touch his inside walls. He wouldn't dare question Sekizan on his technique though.


Oblivious to the actually frigid nature of their captain, Ebumi tries hard to get into it.


He's just grateful to be touched by him, and as far as he knows, having only Matsuo to compare to, this might just be a technique that they haven't tried themselves.


"Is that enough?" Sekizan wonders, though his harsh tone makes it sound far more judgmental, as if just a minute of completely unrelaxing fingering should be enough.


Ebumi bristles at the thought of Sekizan's huge cock going in him already. He's not the brightest bulb when it comes to gauging his limits, but he knows from even his minor amount of experience that he needs more time.


"Um... M— Matsu-san usually... he takes a bit longer with this bit..." the normally confident boy informs meekly, his shoulders rising as he bows his head a little like he's preparing to be told off.


"Are— um, are ya' gunna' fuck me?"


"... Eh?"


"I... well I don't think it'll fit, is all," Ebumi mumbles.


As it finally occurs to him, Sekizan is horrified by the thought of his own dick trying to squeeze into such an underprepared space; he hadn't even thought about going that far, he just figured that he'd give the blond a quick finger and he'd be satisfied, but apparently he's going to have to work a bit harder...


"Fine. Tell me when you feel ready," he maintains, sliding the same two fingers in but working them slowly and flexing them.


On the handful of occasions that he and Hachi have done it, he's usually too distracted by the pleasure combatting the guilt to really notice how the vice captain makes him feel so good and dirty, but he's certain there's more to it than just jabbing back and forth.


He tries scissoring his fingers, which makes Ebumi whimper in discomfort, but the winger bites his tongue.


Just because he's not into rough handling doesn't mean Sekizan isn't doing a good job, right? He's so big and strong he's probably just used to being with people who can take all of him.


It'd be shameful to ask for him to go easy, Ebumi thinks. So he endures, trying to keep his pained sounds to a minimum.


He does well up until the point where Sekizan adds another finger and starts moving all three like a sail cutting through air, perfectly rigid as he forcefully slides them in and out of Ebumi quick and hard enough to make his whole body jerk with the movements.


It doesn't feel nice at all, and Sekizan only goes harder.


"Ah-ah-it hurts! Captain!" Ebumi suddenly hiccups, unable to take any more.


Sekizan stops immediately, just watching the blond huffing and trembling with his three fingers stationary in his sore ass.


"That... that hurts," he pants timidly.


"Hm, I see," Sekizan replies, deciding to keep up the act and pretend he doesn't see a fault in his technique.


"You must be quite sensitive, perhaps Toshi babies you too much," he says, letting an accidental hint of bitter truth pepper his words.


Ebumi swallows thickly and bites his lip, he feels embarrassed for not being able to withstand a bit of roughness; unknowing that he's completely in the right anyway.


"Well, I think you're ready now... f-for me to fuck you... if you think you can take it, that is," Sekizan carries on.


"Y— yeah, I can take it!" the anxious winger lies, determined to redeem himself and not squander this opportunity. So what if it hurts? It's Sekizan!


"Oh... I'll... need a condom," the captain murmurs.


"Ah! It's okay, I'm clean, I swear... I ain't go nothin' ya' could catch so... jus' go without," Ebumi insists.


"Without?! That's absurd, regardless of if you've got anything or not how do you know you won't get something from me?"


Well of course he won't, the rawest things Sekizan's dick has touched is a single slice of cooked ham.


The pair of them would be more likely to catch a cold walking home than anything from each other, but inadvertently Sekizan has only furthered that false impression of being a man with great experience, and Ebumi looks coy, like that statement just affirmed his wildly inaccurate assumptions.


"Well, if it's you I don't think I'd mind anyway, captain," he purrs, trying to be seductive, "I'll gladly take that risk~"


Sekizan hitches an eyebrow and curls his lip, repulsed by the insinuation that Ebumi would willingly risk getting an STD just for a fuck from his captain, and also the display of eyelash batting itself.


"Tsh, look straight ahead again," he says, sounding rather more mean-spirited than intended.


Again he's surprised to earn such a keen response though, it's as if Ebumi genuinely can't tell that everything he's doing is off the cuff, and that his domineering captain is actually way out of his depth here.


It only takes a few pumps to bring Sekizan's touch-starved cock back to full-attention, and he lines it up while trying not to grimace at the prospect of what he's about to do.


"I'm going to enter you now, hold still don't... jerk around."


Ebumi squares himself, presenting his ass eagerly like he's waited for this moment all his life, but he loses that sturdy posture the second Sekizan pushes in.


Tears fill his eyes immediately, and he bites his bottom lip so hard the skin turns white.


He makes a strained sound deep in the back of his throat, barely managing to keep it there. 'Sekizan's dick is dry! Why is it dry?! Surely he'd have enough precum to act as a bit of lubricant? Is he not aroused yet or something?!' Ebumi thinks to himself in horror.


Sekizan also struggles to stifle himself, but rather, for him it's the pure bliss of having his cock squeezed so delightfully tight by the winger's snug little asshole.


Ebumi tries his hardest to relax, but this is a pain he's never known. He was tight for Matsuo during their first time too, but not like this. It didn't hurt like this.


"Captain I... I don't think I can— it hurts! It hurts too much, please take it out!" Ebumi begs, snivelling as he lowers his head to the surface beneath him and claws at it with his fingertips.


"You're fine, you just need to get used to me," Sekizan groans, suddenly very self-assured in what he's doing.


"No, I can't, I can't do it, captain!"


"You can. You can do it, Ebumi," Sekizan insists, thrusting forward and giving a gratified moan as his cock is swallowed another two inches deeper.


"Ow! Ow-captain!" Ebumi sobs.


"Relax, Ebumi," the older boy coaches, pushing between the blond's shoulder blades to make him go lower.


Ebumi tries to resist the pressure of his hand, but ultimately Sekizan is stronger in every way, and he accepts this with a sorry whimper.


He thrusts again, but this time due to his changed position, the force is directed right under Ebumi's bladder and the captain's cockhead nudges right into his prostate.


The winger's tone changes completely, letting out a delighted trill instead of a pained plea. He cants his head back and pants for a moment as he shudders from the sudden assault to his g-spot.


"Ah~ wait, can I— I wanna' turn over. Lemme' be on my back, captain," the weepy winger requests, slowly turning without Sekizan having to even pull out.


There's a moment of just grunting and huffing as Ebumi tries to get comfortable in his new position.


A little annoyed by the interruption, Sekizan tugs his shorts off from around his ankles and throws them aside before bending the blond in two and holding him by the backs of his knees as they recommence.


It's still not as pleasant as it is when he's with Matsuo, but it feels better than it did before at least, so Ebumi is content to make the most of it.


Sekizan truly is magnificent, he thinks. He can't believe his luck, but he must have caught him while he's pent up. A guy as virile and masculine as him must be ready to get his end in anything after a match like that. It's no wonder he's being so rough.


Like most of the boys he sees there's something almost godly about Sekizan; a regal, respectableness that urges them to do anything to impress him.


Hachi and Matsuo are often in hysterics thinking about how each of their younger teammates view their leader when they know Sekizan as a bashful doofus. Though, fair enough, a bashful doofus with a blindingly desirable body.


"Ah, that feels— that feels better," Ebumi gasps when Sekizan starts fucking upward.


It appears as if the pair have actually found some harmony, but it lasts about as long as it takes for Ebumi to really start enjoying himself again. Then the tables turn...


"Oh! Oh! That feels so good daddy! Yes, daddy!" the blond starts rehearsing obnoxiously; a perfect recreation of a scene from one of his favourite rented DVDs.


Sekizan cringes with his whole body, thankful Ebumi has his eyes screwed shut at this moment so he doesn't mistake his grimace for a sign he's enjoying the performance.


God he wishes he'd shut up, it's not turning him on at all. He looks ridiculous. He sounds ridiculous, and by association, Sekizan feels ridiculous too.


He goes completely soft inside Ebumi, but he keeps fucking because the winger begs him to. There's no way that feels good though, surely? Is he really about to come from this— a barely even half-hearted effort of just slamming a flaccid cock into him?


"Ah~ daddy that feels good! Right there, faster!"


"Ebumi," Sekizan grunts, gritting his teeth as he bucks his hips faster despite no longer gaining any kind of sensation himself, and only his grip deepening into Ebumi's thighs.


"Shut up," he grounds out.


"Yes— yessir," Ebumi nods, swallowing thickly before letting his tongue loll instead like a dog with its head out of a car window.


He tries to control himself as best he can, but it's really too much of a dream come true. Ebumi doesn't seem to even notice that Sekizan isn't hard anymore, or that he isn't into the scene the tiniest bit. The poor lamb is simply oblivious that he's only embarrassing himself and that his partner is wishing to be anywhere else but inside him.


For Ebumi, it's enough that it's Sekizan though. Their magnificent and admirable captain, whether through pity or not, is fucking him in the changing rooms like he's the hero of the match after all. The attention is enough, and it's ready to make him boil over and clench around the girthy forward as he throws his head back and whines.


Admittedly the tightness does return a bit of pleasure for Sekizan, but it's short-lived since Ebumi is already throbbing then releasing his hold on the older boy's cock.


His come-face was revolting, but the blissful look with his open mouth and rosy cheeks is a bit more palatable. Still, Sekizan wastes no time in pulling out, using a stray jersey to quickly wipe himself off before tucking his unspent prick back into his pants.


"C-come to practise next week Ebumi, or else," he thinks to warn, preferring not to leave the impression that what just transpired makes him exempt from anything.


Ebumi doesn't need to believe any further that he's worthy of special treatment... though perhaps giving him that well undeserved fuck just now wasn't the best way to cement those feelings.


Regardless, Sekizan is eager to be on his way home. Perhaps consulting his faithful vice captain would prevent any panicked thoughts or burning regrets from blossoming so soon. Then again, maybe this should be something he just keeps to himself, Hachi is more likely to laugh at his misfortune than he is to assuage his worries.


"Heh... I'll be there, captain, promise! I'll work hard, ya' can count on me," the overconfident winger pants, absolutely thrilled with himself and not the tiniest bit wiser to the fact that what he just received will probably stand to be the most reluctant, resentful, unenthused fuck of his life.


"Good, I'd like to see you keep that promise," Sekizan says stoically, leaving that parting remark before closing he clubroom door behind him.


A brisk walk home will hopefully pave over the brewing embarrassment, though he's already certain this is going to haunt him for a while.


Ebumi, meanwhile, is feeling like a champ as he gets off the bench and stretches his arms above his head before pulling his pants up. It doesn't matter that he came on himself or that his asshole is burning, he'll limp home that way proudly.


He takes out his phone as he's swaggering out of the clubroom and off school grounds, seeing a missed call from Matsuo, probably asking if he needs food bringing over.


It brings a smile to his face just the prospect of it. If Matsuo stays over tonight then that would really be the perfect end to his day.


The phone only rings twice before he gets an answer.

"Hey, I—"


"Matsu-san," Ebumi drawls with an arrogant grin that carries right the way through his words, "I'm jus' walkin', meet ya' at my place."


"Right... and do you want any food bringing over?"




"I can stop off and get something or I can cook whatever's there already but let me kn—"






"I'm all warmed up for ya'~" Ebumi snickers, receiving a long pause from the other end.


"... I'll be right over, kiddo."