First.

There was a first time for everything.

If you were to look out the window, you would see a small boy about four across the street. It's his first time riding a bike. And that anxious, sweating thirty-three-year-old man running after him? It's his first time being a father.

And if you were to peer into the grand hotel on Rue XX, imperial suite, top floor, you would see a lavishly decorated room painted deep plum and accommodated with matching golden furniture. With the silk curtains half drawn, you would almost miss the young tennis star sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, shirtless and looking apathetic.

It was his first time getting dumped.

You would probably flap a hand and say, "Oh cheer up, man." I mean, even the first-ranked tennis player in the world with three Grand Slam titles down his belt was… human. And being rejected was just part of an ordinary, human's life.

But then, Echizen Ryoma was anything but ordinary. He was, as considered by many (fangirls) and as many had informed him, perfection. He had become the ultimate tennis player, holding the title of best player for half a decade already. Not only did his success in the sport bring in floods of cash and recognition, but his face won the covers of magazines across the globe. It couldn't be denied; Echizen Ryoma was beyond dreamy. His year-long tan worked stubbornly well with his accidentally perfect dark hair, and his candescent amber eyes were that of a feline. Even the hearts of phlegmatic girls and guys raced when he appeared on their television screens.

He may as well be a god.

That was why he was dumbfounded when he had woken up to a voicemail from the girl he had been dating. It left him numb afterwards.

Um… hi, Ryoma, it's me. So, you're probably wondering why I didn't meet you at the hotel last night. It's because I just found out that…I…I don't know how to say this…

Then an alien, male voice had spoken in the background. It's ok, love. Just tell him. He's nice; he'll understand. Ryoma felt an inexplicable hatred towards him

The female voice had breathed deeply and continued in a hurried voice: Ryoma, I'm pregnant. And you and I both know that you're not the father. And it's just going to lead to complications if we stay together. She took another deep breath. So I've decided to leave; I'm not going to say where, lest the paparazzi find out. She laughed very lightly and then continued in a business-like voice. I truly cherished our time together. You're a great guy. And it's not you, it's--

The line had been cut short. She had not bothered to make another call. And that was it.

Rejection.

"Damn it," Ryoma bit out through clenched teeth. He had not moved from his brooding position all day and his back hurt like hell, but he was too deep in his tangled and confused thoughts. Anger and depression encompassed him, only making him pull at his hair more. He had never experienced this before; he was always the one to end the relationship.

The next time he looked up, it was already late into the afternoon and the sun was just starting to illuminate the city in a fiery tangerine orange.

"Damn it," Ryoma glared a hole into the wall. "Damn it, damn it."

How could she possibly choose some low-life bastard over him? There was no way he could have lost to him. Lost. The word seared his tongue.

While he sat there uselessly in only his jeans, alone in a dark hotel room, she was probably off on another continent, making love to… someone else.

And… what the fuck, she had done this before, while they were still together!

"Damn it."

Is this what you get when you give your heart to someone else? She had taken and crudely dropped his, only to step over it for another. Ryoma felt his chest contract; the pain was overwhelming. The pain of…of…

Losing his girlfriend? No, more like, losing his girlfriend to another man.

Lose. Game, set, match. You lose Echizen.

Ryoma couldn't take that. As if it weren't enough that he had been replaced, she had stung him further with her next words. '…and you and I both know that you're not the father…' What the hell is that supposed to mean? That he was prude?

It was dark outside and street lamps were beginning to turn on. His own lamps in his room lit automatically. Ryoma did not move still. Hunger and fatigue did not register in his mind.

He thought over the voicemail, his conclusions, and all the time, words were echoing in his mind.

She was saying he lost her …Ryoma, I'm pregnant… But Echizen Ryoma never loses …It's ok, love. Just tell him… He's perfection …And it's not you, it's--you.

A maid walked by the open door, carrying a neat stack of towels. He watched her shadow slide over his carpeted floor.

Sure, his ex-girlfriend had hurt his ego a bit, but that could easily be fixed. He just needed someone else to want him. Badly.

"Ne," he called out.

The maid turned around. "Yes? Anything you need, sir?" She put the towels down and walked to his open doorway. She glanced away immediately, seeing Ryoma's bare chest.

Ryoma stood up slowly and walked up to her. The maid took a step back and did not meet his eyes, her hands wandering down to fidget with the hem of her skirt. By the time Ryoma was leaning on the doorway, her face was as red as a fire hydrant and she was extremely uncomfortable.

"You're a maid, right?"

"Y-Yes."

"Then service me," Ryoma whispered. "Come in and service me."

"I-I'm afraid I-I don't understand." Her large russet eyes blinked. "Sir," she added quickly.

The last thing she saw was his deep amber eye, flashing as he turned. She gasped and her lungs tightened; his hand had grabbed hers and pulled her in. The door slammed shut and she was pushed onto the bed, locked in by his arms. And it was dark.

Ryoma hated himself. He hated his current situation. He hated how she didn't respond and how he just wanted to kiss her senseless when she seemed so scared. You lost, Echizen.

How despicable that he still wanted to do it.

So he planted light butterfly kisses on her neck to apologize for his introduction and then he kissed her full on the lips to inform her of his intentions. Shocked and scared as she was, she somewhat liked the sensation, and she returned the exchange. She was terrified that he would be encouraged and become violent, but she couldn't believe that due to the gentleness in his lips. He drove her against the pillows and she pulled him down against her. Then it was just a blurry, tangled mess of heat and moans as he pushed aside his troubles and undid her braids. Yes, she wanted him badly.


There was a first time for everything.

Ryoma glanced down at her, eying her trembling form. "Are you serious?"

She nodded.

Well it was her first time too.

Fin.


(A/N): mada mada dane ;-;

Erm.. I think Ryoma just did some bad stuff to Sakuno. So does this count as ryosaku? -.- jk, please tell me what you think (really). I would really appreciate that :)