Title: Glide
Summary: For Ryoma's birthday the Regulars go ice skating.
Note: Written for pillarchallenge last year in December.
It was Christmas Eve, it was Ryoma's birthday and the Regulars of Seigaku Tennis Club were at the skating rink to celebrate.
"Mou! Ochibi! Stay still!" Kikumaru pouted as he tightened his grip around Oishi's neck. The acrobatics player wasn't doing well on ice, always forgetting that jumping while wearing ice-skates was a bad idea for someone who was unaccustomed to the slippery surface.
"Oi! Echizen! You little brat!" Momoshiro shouted loudly as he pushed himself off the ice, chasing after the freshman.
Ryoma kicked off the ice, darting away from his senpai.
"Get back here birthday boy! Get back!" Having longer legs than the half-hearted Ryoma, Momoshiro was close on his heels in no time and was reaching out his arms to grab him. Ryoma suddenly spun to the right, ducking under the linked hands of a couple. The woman laughed as Ryoma sped away.
The power player was too slow to react and he was going to fast to stop. He let out a yell and the people in front of him scattered. Unfortunately it was too late as Momoshiro crashed into Kaidoh, sending them both crashing down at Inui's feet. Kaidoh let out a furious hiss as he landed on his backside, spitting out an insult. Momoshiro followed suit and a screaming match ensued.
A fair distance away, Ryoma's gaze passed over them with disinterest. He was looking for someone, something that was obviously not in the rink. Golden eyes scanned across the arena a final time, slowly rotating around on the spot in hopes of catching a glance of the familiar tall build of a certain captain.
Finally they landed on a brunet clad in a fawn colored winter coat, standing outside the rink with his hands deep in his pockets. Ryoma skated towards him.
"Buchou!" Ryoma skid to a halt directly in front of his senior, spraying ice against Tezuka's black boots. He placed his hands on the support rail to keep his balance. "Ne, why aren't you skating?"
Tezuka blinked down at him from behind gleaming lenses. "I'm watching."
A dark brow furrowed slightly. "You should skate."
The brunet blinked again, eyelids moving slowly. "I'm fine." An underlining tone of caution painted his words.
Ryoma frowned. "Everyone's skating."
"I can see that," Tezuka replied. He didn't move an inch.
Ryoma pouted. "I want to skate."
A thin brow arched above rimless glasses. Tezuka cast a meaningful look towards Ryoma's skates and then towards the space behind him.
Ryoma scowled. "With you."
Tezuka continued to stand there, stoic and unmoving.
Ryoma did the same, glaring hard at Tezuka. The effect was limited because of the height difference—having to tilt his head up while trying to maintain his glare was more amusing than anything. Tezuka's lips twitched.
Finally he opened his mouth. "Echizen."
Ryoma perked up, expectant.
"I…" Ryoma watched, finding himself transfixed for a moment as Tezuka's breath clouded the frosty air. "…do not skate," Tezuka finished mildly.
The young prodigy slipped on the ice a fraction. If not for his handhold on the rail, Ryoma might've fallen over. Resolutely, he placed his weight on his hands, using the rail to push himself up to the tips of his skates. The distance between them shortened and Ryoma breathed out. His warm breath collided with the cold air, clouding in an opaque haze against Tezuka's lips.
Tezuka tilted his head down so that they could see each other eye to eye. He didn't lean closer, but he didn't step back either.
"Buchou," Ryoma breathed, eyes burning fiercely. "You…" His breath tickled Tezuka's lips again and Tezuka didn't seem to mind the invasion of his personal space. Suddenly a smirk, almost mocking, flashed onto Ryoma's face. "…don't know how to skate do you."
It wasn't a question and Tezuka knew it was pointless to say otherwise.
The smirk on Ryoma's lips turned into a playful smile but Tezuka could tell by the golden gleam of his eyes that he was still being laughed at, silently.
Tezuka closed his eyes, willing himself to stay indifferent, but Ryoma would have none of that. Ryoma poked him in the chest. "Skate with me," he demanded.
A hazel eye opened, absorbing the sight of Ryoma's determined features. There was still that glimmer of laughter dancing in his catlike eyes. Tezuka closed his eye and crossed his arms. His head was tilted somewhat away from Ryoma. Clearly he was slightly miffed.
Ryoma noted the change in his posture and snickered silently as he let go of the railing. His skates settled against the ice with a faint click. The distance between them was lengthened again.
"It's my birthday."
"Aa." Tezuka's tone was bland. Why else would Seigaku's Regulars be out so late at night to skate in the freezing cold?
Ryoma waited.
A minute passed.
Two minutes.
Ryoma rolled his eyes. "You have to skate with me."
Tezuka cracked open the same eye again. "I don't have any skates," he answered shortly.
The captain was pinned with a flat stare, of which he returned with a raised brow. Tezuka's face was still turned a degree away from him. At least both of his eyes were opened now, Ryoma thought distractedly.
"Heeh."
They stood there in silence, waiting for the other to make a move. Ryoma only had so much patience.
Unexpectedly Ryoma grabbed hold of Tezuka's arm and dragged him along the rail, intent on forcibly making his captain get on the ice.
He failed. Miserably. Tezuka's brow rose.
Obviously Ryoma forgot that he was wearing bladed shoes on ice while Tezuka was firmly rooted to the cemented ground in his snow boots.
Tezuka chuckled lightly, almost silently. Ryoma pinned him with a dark look and this time he was unable to suppress the urge to smile. Ryoma looked cute in his oversized cat-eared beanie and the pout only made him even more adorable. If he were the type to, Ryoma would've stomped his foot into the ground. But he wasn't. So he settled for fuming silently.
Unable to resist, Tezuka tweaked his nose and Ryoma instantly snapped at his already withdrawing hand. Tezuka laughed again, his deep voice calming Ryoma down immediately. But that wouldn't do, because Ryoma wanted to skate with Tezuka. And Tezuka wasn't moving. "You have to skate with me."
Lips settled in a half-smile, Tezuka tilted his head to the side. "Oh?"
Ryoma grinned, satisfied. Tezuka was finally humoring him,
"Oh," Ryoma intoned, overly confident. He grabbed hold of tail ends of Tezuka's scarf and tugged. Hard. This time Tezuka had no choice but to follow.
"Echizen," Tezuka reprimanded, but he was unable to erase all traces of amusement from his voice. If he really wanted to, Tezuka could've easily unwound himself from the scarf. Ryoma grinned.
"Buchou." Ryoma replied determinedly. He tugged again at the beige scarf. "You have to skate with me." Ryoma released the warm material and quickly grabbed hold of Tezuka's gloved hands before the man could backtrack. Ryoma jerked him onto the ice and grinned when Tezuka slipped forward.
"Ryoma!" Tezuka struggled to maintain his balance. His boots weren't made to grace the icy surface.
Ryoma laughed, skating backwards with Tezuka sliding along with him. He had no choice, Ryoma was the one keeping him upright and if he let go now then he'd be stranded in the middle of the rink. Just the thought of having to waddle along the ice on shaky feet—or worse, crawl—was enough to make him tighten his hold around Ryoma's hands.
"This is fun." Ryoma grinned widely, staring up at him.
Tezuka glared, disgruntled.
Ryoma sighed. "Ne buchou…" He glided forwards and released their hands—for a split second Tezuka felt like flailing but violently crushed that instinct. Ryoma wrapped his arms around Tezuka's waist. He continued moving his feet, propelling them in lazy circles around the rink. "You should relax." He smiled up at the tennis captain.
Tezuka gave him The Look, because it was easier said than done; Ryoma wasn't the one who couldn't skate, and Ryoma wasn't the one being dragged along on the ice without the proper equipment on.
Ryoma merely smiled like a Cheshire cat. Carefully he pushed his heels off the ice (it was easier because his skates made him taller) and pressed his lips to Tezuka's. He felt Tezuka stiffen, but Ryoma stubbornly stayed locked in that position.
Tezuka himself was helpless. Of course he couldn't move for fear of sending them both crashing into the ice, but there was also that overpowering part of him that wouldn't listen to the logical commands screaming at him to let go of Ryoma's shoulder, to push Ryoma away, to stop the kiss—they were in the middle of the ice skating rink on Christmas Eve in the public where everyone could see them after all. The nagging voice would've given him a headache, but Tezuka was already losing the ability to think clearly. How could he when Ryoma was running his tongue against his lips?
In the end he chose to stop thinking altogether and tightened his arms around the smaller boy's shoulders. He felt Ryoma smile as he nipped at his lips.