Title: Tongue in Cheek
Summary: Involves tongue.


Tezuka isn't one to speak much. He could easily go a day without uttering a single word, should he so wish. Small sounds of acknowledgments leave his mouth from time to time, and thoughtful looks are more than enough for communicating. If he really wants to he'd even be able to dissuade his teachers from asking him to recite passages from his history textbooks, or translate the English words from the curriculum because a simple uninterested stare could discourage anyone from trying to engage him in a conversation.

It's all his luck, however, that on the day he wishes for silence, more people seem inclined to hear his verbal responses. He's in a horrible mood, eyes stormy, mind distracted and incapable of proper speech.

He glares, stares disapprovingly at anyone who tries—and indeed, none are successful in getting him to speak—but his reputation of being the most polite and respectable student is damaged, if not just a tiny bit. It hardly matters, but Tezuka couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious.

Teachers dismiss it as an off day for him. Tezuka Kunimitsu is human and they are glad to have proof that he is. It doesn't make them any less concerned, and instead they keep him after class.

His Mathematics teacher isn't one for words, but is highly fond of his sharp mind. She smiles at him, and tells him she hopes everything is alright. He can only nod, not trusting himself to speak. He bows low before he leaves.

His History teacher is different. He's a man passionate about the past, someone Tezuka doesn't mind discussing Japanese history with, or any history at all. In fact Tezuka enjoys their conversations very much. He's only relieved that the man has a tendency to ramble, and speak more than enough for the two of them.

The only words he has to say is a strangled "Thank you for your concern," before he quickly leaves the classroom, aware of the confusion washing over the man's face.

The other two classes for the day are Health and Physical Education. He leaves quickly before either of the teachers can catch him. The Health teacher believes she knows everything that's wrong with anyone, and Tezuka doesn't want to stay around for her to confirm any suspicions she might have. His PE teacher thinks it's a perfect opportunity to recruit people into the Judo Club, Tezuka suspects when the man goes off on a rant about the inadequacy of the other school clubs during class, and how they're detrimental for a person's well being.

Tezuka wonders why, today of all days, his teachers decide to be more vocal. The pained expression on his face might explain it, but Tezuka isn't aware he has any expression on his face. Must be a teacher thing, he decides.

Tennis practice comes all too quickly, and Tezuka couldn't help but dread. He can either go to practice, and instruct the members on what to do for the day and spend the rest of the time silently watching over them (and glare at any curious stares), or he can leave Oishi in charge, and go to the clubroom to work on some ranking matches.

Ryuuzaki is in today, and if she finds him with a speech impediment, she'll surely never let him live it down. Much as he respects her, Ryuuzaki is too crude at the worst possible times.

Then there's Echizen to consider. Thinking about him makes all kinds of strange, conflicting feelings flood through his mind. Initially he was angry because it was the boy's fault that he has to hold his tongue all day—but for Echizen to react in such a way, surely, Tezuka is the one at fault, he has to be.

Tezuka catches movement from the corner of his eyes when he yanks the polo shirt over his head.

It's Echizen, and he's looking at him with a slight scowl.

"Echizen," Tezuka greets automatically and promptly winces afterwards when it comes out slurred.

Echizen's eyes widen slightly, a curious expression on his face. "Buchou," he answers coolly and says nothing more as he unbuttons his school shirt.

Tezuka nods, exhaling softly in frustration. Echizen is still mad at him but he can't for the life of him figure out why.

So he does the first thing he can think of, and blurts out an apology, "I'm sorry." He winces again because his tongue is refusing to work properly.

Echizen casts a sidelong glance in his direction just as the shirt slides over his shoulders. Tezuka refuses to look at him, and pulls on his jersey.

"Whatever I did—" He clears his throat nervously, but continues, "I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry." He silently curses the tingle running through his tongue.

And then he hears laughter. Tezuka looks at the shorter boy in surprise just as Echizen replaces his shirt with his tennis uniform.

"Buchou," he begins, just a tiny bit sheepish, but Tezuka can see the amusement clear as day on his face. He can't help but feel annoyed.

Then the boy's in front of him, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket and pulling him down. He barely has any time to react before a tongue slips into his mouth and soothes over his aching tongue and oh.

Tezuka is vaguely aware of the muted silence in the clubroom, and how everyone's eyes are probably glued to them, watching with fascination. There's probably horror on Momoshiro's face, Kaidoh's too he expects, and the continued scratch of lead against paper tells him Inui's scrutinizing them closely.

He can't concentrate on that though, his focus mainly on the tongue in his mouth, lips against his lips, hands gripping his shirt.

When Echizen pulls away, his mind is still buzzing, completely disarrayed. Tezuka doesn't bother to say anything, can only manage to breathe in and out as he absorbs in the sight of the darkened eyes, and how soft the black hair feels underneath his fingers.

Echizen is faring better than him, and scowls when he notices the rude, nosy stares. He grabs his racket and heads for the door, ignoring Tezuka and their audience.

As he reaches the entrance, he calls backhandedly over his shoulder, "Buchou, sorry for biting you."

The awed silence breaks, and Echizen isn't the least bit repentant when he sees panic in Tezuka's eyes.

Tezuka may be just too cute with that frustrated look in his eyes every time he stumbles over his words, but cute or not, Ryoma is still mad at him.