Disclaimer: I don't own TeniPuri.
Strings
After his graduation, Shishido made no attempt to keep in touch with much from his high school life, attending college far from home and losing any phone numbers classmates had given him out of disuse. He had always been one to take advantage of the chance to start over again, of the romantic idea of hitting the reset button. He played college sports, broke college rules, did college things, and made college friends. He continued playing tennis, but for the first time in over four years, Shishido Ryou returned to playing singles. His freshman year was spent learning how to inhale, how to pull three all-nighters and still pass finals, and how to party like a frat boy. He had even admitted that he wouldn't be looking for a girlfriend-- he wasn't interested.
It wasn't until his first summer away from home that he felt regret for what he had done. Shishido had made good friends with his roommate, a rather mellow academic with a QPA to put party-boy Shishido to shame at times. Over their year together he had appropriated to himself a tendency to designate himself as Shishido's driver, watch out for Shishido, and to find a remedy for Shishido's loneliness. Shishido had to wonder sometimes if his parents had gotten a hold of the boy and were paying him to baby-sit their son. Shishido had never learned to appreciate his taste in music-- jazzy piano or long, smooth orchestrations --any other time than when he was high, but for the first time since they had moved in together, the other boy didn't play minuet pianos or Symphony No. 6, but instead just strings. Violins. For about an hour.
Shishido was on the first train home the next morning, a long forgotten address that he had memorized as a teenager coming back to him with persistence. When he found Choutarou, right where he had left him, the only thing Shishido could say was that he was sorry for not having called. Choutarou just smiled and welcomed him back, asked him if he'd like to play a game, even after not having heard from the man he still called 'senpai' in over a year. They spent three days at the courts, and three nights catching each other up to speed on their lives. Choutarou had played doubles with another senior that year. Doubles Two. He had graduated high school as vice captain of the tennis team. He still hadn't gotten himself a girlfriend.
Day four was a train ride back to campus. That night was Shishido's dorm room, two beers each and Choutarou's lips trembling as Shishido trailed kisses down his stomach. The violins were playing that night.