#ippomichi

The humid locker room felt even steamier, everything felt too hot and yet too cold, too loud, too hard, too soft, too cramped, too good. So good.

“Mmh…”

Makunouchi pulled away slowly from the kiss, softly smiling down at his kohai. Makunouchi’s gaze was warm, like the comforting heat of a fire on a much too chilly day, yet also unbearably hot, like having your AC cut off in the middle of the hottest day of the summer. Yamada didn’t mind being scorched beneath the watch of his lover.

Yamada shyly pecked Makunouchi’s lips again before looking back into his considerate senpai’s eyes. “M-Makunouchi-senpai…uhm…I-I like this…” Yamada wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He was seventeen, hormonal, and as smooth as sandpaper, so every sentence that tumbled out of his mouth was rather humiliating.

But the corners of Makunouchi’s eyes crinkled in a warm smile, and he cupped Yamada’s cheeks in order to plant another sweet kiss on Yamada’s oh-god-so-unworthy lips. Kissing Makunouchi was like the build up to a fight (which Yamada had only experienced a handful of), slow and steady at first, slowly circling his opponent with smooth and experimental movements.

Then as the two of them fell into a comfortable rhythm, they attacked, their lips pressing together slowly yet firmly before they would pick up the pace and battle passionately, tongues fluttering close with curiosity, eyebrows furrowed, starved hands still grasping at anything, everything. Two inexperienced lovers in the boxing gym shower stall, comforting each other with eager kisses and shy touches.

A breathy “Yamada-kun” escaped Makunouchi’s lips and disappeared between Yamada’s. Makunouchi had one hand planted on the nape of his kohai’s neck and the other ghosting along his waist. Yamada thought he was dying beneath Makunouchi’s touch. It was so overwhelming, but he only found himself needing more. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel Makunouchi everywhere all at once.

Yamada’s hands timidly explored beneath Makunouchi’s gym shirt, which was slightly moist with sweat and humidity. To Yamada, Makunouchi’s body was sculpted by the gods themselves.

Yamada would never have guessed Makunouchi was cut so perfectly beneath those loose sweaters and tees, if not for having rewatched his boxing matches for days on end just to see that gorgeous body for himself, again and again. He knew full and well how amazing Makunouchi looked beneath a shirt, and yet here he was, gaping like a fish out of water at those abs. They looked even better up close.

Makunouchi let out a shy chuckle at Yamada’s reaction. Not wanting to stay apart longer than they needed to, Makunouchi pulled Yamada close again and reignited their kiss. Emboldened by the gesture, Yamada reached down and caressed Makunouchi’s abs. They felt molten hot between his fingertips. God, Makunouchi couldn’t be real. He was too perfect. Did Yamada even deserve him?

That question was answered by Makunouchi himself as his grip on his kohai became more firm. The kiss deepened, eliciting a whine from Yamada as he let himself melt for his senpai. He was on fire. And he was definitely way, way, way too excited. Everything was just so, so, so. He loved Makunouchi, and Makunouchi…

A sudden gasp. “Makunouchi-senpai, please…”

“Hm?”

Yamada blushed and cast his gaze to the side. “N-nothing, sorry…” He kissed Makunouchi’s cheek apologetically. He didn’t mean to interrupt their moment.

But Makunouchi wasn’t disappointed, instead his lips quirked up as he leaned down to return the favor, a gentle kiss on Yamada’s forehead, then his cheek, then his nose.

“Hey, um…” Yamada’s lips twisted slightly. “I’ll let you shower, so…”

Makunouchi nodded. “Okay. You can wait for me, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

A quiet blossom of laughter. “Sorry, Coach has gotten me on some sort of awful training routine…”

Yamada smiled softly. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah…”

Their eyes met. Clearly neither of them wanted to pull away from the other.

Makunouchi’s teeth flashed in an appreciative smile. “You can come over again for dinner. My mother loves company, you know?”

“I’d like that.” Yamada clasped his hands together and let them rest behind his back.

Makunouchi parted the shower curtain so Yamada could step out and reluctantly walk away. He could hear the shower turn on. He wondered if, maybe, eventually, he could see Makunouchi shower…ah, what was he saying?

As the locker room door swung open for Yamada, he felt the air of the gym hit him. It wasn’t normally cold, but it was cooler in comparison to the hot, steamy locker room.

The humid locker room felt even steamier, everything felt too hot and yet too cold, too loud, too hard, too soft, too cramped, too good. So good.

“Mmh…”

Makunouchi pulled away slowly from the kiss, softly smiling down at his kohai. Makunouchi’s gaze was warm, like the comforting heat of a fire on a much too chilly day, yet also unbearably hot, like having your AC cut off in the middle of the hottest day of the summer. Yamada didn’t mind being scorched beneath the watch of his lover.

Yamada shyly pecked Makunouchi’s lips again before looking back into his considerate senpai’s eyes. “M-Makunouchi-senpai…uhm…I-I like this…” Yamada wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He was seventeen, hormonal, and as smooth as sandpaper, so every sentence that tumbled out of his mouth was rather humiliating.

But the corners of Makunouchi’s eyes crinkled in a warm smile, and he cupped Yamada’s cheeks in order to plant another sweet kiss on Yamada’s oh-god-so-unworthy lips. Kissing Makunouchi was like the build up to a fight (which Yamada had only experienced a handful of), slow and steady at first, slowly circling his opponent with smooth and experimental movements.

Then as the two of them fell into a comfortable rhythm, they attacked, their lips pressing together slowly yet firmly before they would pick up the pace and battle passionately, tongues fluttering close with curiosity, eyebrows furrowed, starved hands still grasping at anything, everything. Two inexperienced lovers in the boxing gym shower stall, comforting each other with eager kisses and shy touches.

A breathy “Yamada-kun” escaped Makunouchi’s lips and disappeared between Yamada’s. Makunouchi had one hand planted on the nape of his kohai’s neck and the other ghosting along his waist. Yamada thought he was dying beneath Makunouchi’s touch. It was so overwhelming, but he only found himself needing more. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel Makunouchi everywhere all at once.

Yamada’s hands timidly explored beneath Makunouchi’s gym shirt, which was slightly moist with sweat and humidity. To Yamada, Makunouchi’s body was sculpted by the gods themselves. Yamada would never have guessed Makunouchi was cut so perfectly beneath those loose sweaters and tees, if not for having rewatched his boxing matches for days on end just to see that gorgeous body for himself, again and again. He knew full and well how amazing Makunouchi looked beneath a shirt, and yet here he was, gaping like a fish out of water at those abs. They looked even better up close.

Makunouchi let out a shy chuckle at Yamada’s reaction. Not wanting to stay apart longer than they needed to, Makunouchi pulled Yamada close again and reignited their kiss. Emboldened by the gesture, Yamada reached down and caressed Makunouchi’s abs. They felt molten hot between his fingertips. God, Makunouchi couldn’t be real. He was too perfect. Did Yamada even deserve him?

That question was answered by Makunouchi himself as his grip on his kohai became more firm. The kiss deepened, eliciting a whine from Yamada as he let himself melt for his senpai. He was on fire. And he was definitely way, way, way too excited. Everything was just so, so, so. He loved Makunouchi, and Makunouchi…

A sudden gasp. “Makunouchi-senpai, please…”

“Hm?”

Yamada blushed and cast his gaze to the side. “N-nothing, sorry…” He kissed Makunouchi’s cheek apologetically. He didn’t mean to interrupt their moment.

But Makunouchi wasn’t disappointed, instead his lips quirked up as he leaned down to return the favor, a gentle kiss on Yamada’s forehead, then his cheek, then his nose.

“Hey, um…” Yamada’s lips twisted slightly. “I’ll let you shower, so…”

Makunouchi nodded. “Okay. You can wait for me, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

A quiet blossom of laughter. “Sorry, Coach has gotten me on some sort of awful training routine…”

Yamada smiled softly. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah…”

Their eyes met. Clearly neither of them wanted to pull away from the other.

Makunouchi’s teeth flashed in an appreciative smile. “You can come over again for dinner. My mother loves company, you know?”

“I’d like that.” Yamada clasped his hands together and let them rest behind his back.

Makunouchi parted the shower curtain so Yamada could step out and reluctantly walk away. He could hear the shower turn on. He wondered if, maybe, eventually, he could see Makunouchi shower…ah, what was he saying?

As the locker room door swung open for Yamada, he felt the air of the gym hit him. It wasn’t normally cold, but it was cooler in comparison to the hot, steamy locker room.