Title: Make Me Safe
Author: Kentra Shinataku
Pairings: Momo/Ryoma
Warnings: angst-ish, ficlet, mildly romance-y
belated birthday ficlet for BlueandFlawless *snugs*
**********
It was never the last place he wanted to be. It was his favourite place, a place that, beyond any other, resembled security. Of course, he liked to pretend that he needed no security, that he needed nothing. He needed no one to care for him. He carried himself with an attitude to conceal his childish stature, intimidating so that they couldn't possibly look down upon him. Not after they played him, at least.
But everyone needed someone. His someone came in the form of a hard, green court and a chain link fence, nets framed on metal skeletons. His someone came to him every time he wrapped calloused fingers around that same, steady grip. The air inside the courts smelled different somehow, felt more familiar, like arms around him he never remembered.
In a life full of constants, tennis was the _only_ constant. It was all he could control. In the morning, he'd wake up, nudging Karupin out of bed, only so he could trudge down the stairs, his mind still clouded with sleep and dreams that vibrated with the satisfying smack of a tennis ball against the ground, to find his perverted father doing his perverted things and his cousin doing her proper things. He'd go to school, dazed and bored in class, familiar with the answers before they appeared on the blackboard, daydreaming of practice that was sure to come when the bell rang. It came every day at the same time, and afterwards, he'd go to the hamburger shop with Momo-senpai. Then, after they said their goodbyes for the evening, he'd trudge back home, back to the lonely house that tore him to pieces as soon as he stepped inside.
Tennis was his only control, his only escape.
He was positive that walking down the street lit only by seldom splotches of light and the faint sheen of the moonlight glimmering on the pavement damp from the brief evening shower was perfectly normal. Of course he wouldn't tell anybody he was leaving; would any of them even notice? Would any of them care?
Unconsciously, his feet hastened their rhythm as his body realized where his senses were dragging it. It was too late now, no way to turn back. He was almost there.
The court lights were off, of course, but it didn't matter. He didn't need lights. All he needed was the familiarity, the comfort in the air that existed only on the interior of that rectangular fence.
And, of course, the familiar eyes that watched over him as he retrieved a racket from his bag and retied his shoes.
"Almost thought you weren't going to make it, Echizen," Momoshiro declared, grinning.
"Heh, you're early, Momo-senpai," Ryoma retorted, sharing the smile.
He allowed himself to reach for the warmth of the hand offered to help him up, and he'd never dream of refusing the familiar, tender kiss nestled against his cheekbone.
***
Author: Kentra Shinataku
Pairings: Momo/Ryoma
Warnings: angst-ish, ficlet, mildly romance-y
belated birthday ficlet for BlueandFlawless *snugs*
**********
It was never the last place he wanted to be. It was his favourite place, a place that, beyond any other, resembled security. Of course, he liked to pretend that he needed no security, that he needed nothing. He needed no one to care for him. He carried himself with an attitude to conceal his childish stature, intimidating so that they couldn't possibly look down upon him. Not after they played him, at least.
But everyone needed someone. His someone came in the form of a hard, green court and a chain link fence, nets framed on metal skeletons. His someone came to him every time he wrapped calloused fingers around that same, steady grip. The air inside the courts smelled different somehow, felt more familiar, like arms around him he never remembered.
In a life full of constants, tennis was the _only_ constant. It was all he could control. In the morning, he'd wake up, nudging Karupin out of bed, only so he could trudge down the stairs, his mind still clouded with sleep and dreams that vibrated with the satisfying smack of a tennis ball against the ground, to find his perverted father doing his perverted things and his cousin doing her proper things. He'd go to school, dazed and bored in class, familiar with the answers before they appeared on the blackboard, daydreaming of practice that was sure to come when the bell rang. It came every day at the same time, and afterwards, he'd go to the hamburger shop with Momo-senpai. Then, after they said their goodbyes for the evening, he'd trudge back home, back to the lonely house that tore him to pieces as soon as he stepped inside.
Tennis was his only control, his only escape.
He was positive that walking down the street lit only by seldom splotches of light and the faint sheen of the moonlight glimmering on the pavement damp from the brief evening shower was perfectly normal. Of course he wouldn't tell anybody he was leaving; would any of them even notice? Would any of them care?
Unconsciously, his feet hastened their rhythm as his body realized where his senses were dragging it. It was too late now, no way to turn back. He was almost there.
The court lights were off, of course, but it didn't matter. He didn't need lights. All he needed was the familiarity, the comfort in the air that existed only on the interior of that rectangular fence.
And, of course, the familiar eyes that watched over him as he retrieved a racket from his bag and retied his shoes.
"Almost thought you weren't going to make it, Echizen," Momoshiro declared, grinning.
"Heh, you're early, Momo-senpai," Ryoma retorted, sharing the smile.
He allowed himself to reach for the warmth of the hand offered to help him up, and he'd never dream of refusing the familiar, tender kiss nestled against his cheekbone.
***