Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a fanfiction. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis doesn't belong to me.
"Choutarou. Wake up."
Ohtori groaned at his lover's voice and buried his head in his pillow. He heard a quiet sigh and the bed bounced slightly as a weight slid off the bed.
"It's too early," Ohtori mumbled. "Come back to bed."
"It's already five thirty. I have to do my morning warm-ups."
"Five more minutes."
"Five minutes will turn into thirty. Besides, you have an audition today. You want to make a good impression."
"Please?"
"No."
"Just five."
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"Choutarou, how serious are you about getting into this orchestra?"
There was a long silence until Ohtori finally spoke. "You know, I haven't been doing very well. There are so many better violinists than me. Maybe…maybe it would be better if I got another job."
"Don't be silly," was the short clipped response.
Ohtori responded by burying his head deeper into the pillow and mumbling something not understandable.
"Choutarou, look at me. Look at me!" The last sentence was said forcefully. Ohtori rolled over reluctantly to face his lover. "Music was my worst subject when we were in school, but I know enough to say that you are very good."
"Apparently not good enough." Ohtori sighed dejectedly. "Why don't you just give up on me?"
"Why don't you ever listen to me?"
Ohtori looked away and heard another quiet sigh. Gentle fingers touched his cheek. "Listen to me, please." Ohtori felt a warm breath on his ear. "Gekokujyou."
Ohtori couldn't help chuckling. "You haven't said that in a while. Not since-"
"I'll stay. Just five minutes though."
Ohtori smiled. "Thank you. I love you, Wakashi."
The martial artist gave a rare smile. "I love you too, Choutarou." He leaned down and gave Ohtori a light kiss on the forehead.
Ohtori grabbed Hiyoshi's wrist and pulled him down, returning the kiss on the latter's nose. He then proceeded to kiss Hiyoshi's slightly chapped lips.
"Choutarou?" said Hiyoshi after a little while.
"Yes?" said Choutarou, slightly out of breath.
"That was five minutes."
"Oh."
"…"
"Five more?"
"No." Hiyoshi untangled himself from Ohtori's long arms and got off the bed. "You should hurry."
Ohtori sighed, but dutifully followed Wakashi out of their bedroom and into the airy kitchen. He seated himself comfortably at the small table and looked at Wakashi expectantly. "So what's for breakfast?"
Hiyoshi opened a cabinet and removed a frying pan. "Eggs."
Ohtori muffled a laugh. "Why, Mr. Chef," he said jokingly. "What a surprise! I didn't expect such an extravagent meal for breakfast."
Hiyoshi gave Ohtori a withering look. "Don't complain or you don't get any. Besides, I don't see you doing any cooking."
Ohtori laughed. "Sorry. I couldn't resist. But perhaps you ought to learn to cook something else for breakfast that doesn't include eggs," he added as Hiyoshi placed the dish in front of him.
"This is simple, easy to make, easy to eat, doesn't leave a huge mess that needs to be cleaned up." Hiyoshi's meal disappeared in record time. "What else do you need?"
Ohtori shrugged and chose not to reply. Arguing with Wakashi about something he made up his mind about was about as effective as arguing with a rock. So stubborn, it reminded Ohtori of something he couldn't quite place.
"Done?" asked Hiyoshi. Ohtori nodded and his plate was whisked away to the sink.
"You should go get dressed. Make yourself look nice," said Hiyoshi.
Ohtori dressed carefully, to avoid making any wrinkles in his freshly ironed clothes. He did a careful check in the full length mirror. Dress shoes shiny, check. Black slacks neat, check. White button down shirt with each button in its proper hole, check. Tie tied correctly, check. He ran a comb quickly through his silver hair and smiled at his reflection. "You can do this, Choutarou."
"Ready?" asked Hiyoshi appearing at the doorway of the bathroom.
"How do I look?" asked Ohtori spreading his arms out and doing a small turn.
Hiyoshi looked intently at him. "Okay," he pronounced.
"I'm ready then."
They made their way down the stairs to the dojo Wakashi had inherited and walked out into the streets.
Ohtori walked down the street happily, holding his violin case in one hand. Hiyoshi trailed slightly behind him.
"This is the one, Wakashi. I can feel it!" Ohtori exclaimed, his eyes shining as the pair approached a grand building. They entered through glass revolving glass doors and found themselves in beautiful lobby with marble floors and all.
Ohtori and Hiyoshi approached the front desk where a severe looking woman was sitting.
"How may I help you today, sir?" asked the secretary.
"Ohtori Choutarou. I have an orchestra tryout today at 1."
"Yes, Ohtori-san. The conductor will be out in a moment. In the meantime, please, wait over there."
"Nervous?" murmured Hiyoshi as they took a seat on a plush, expensive looking sofa.
"You won't believe how much," Ohtori replied. "But I'm pretty excited too! This orchestra is pretty famous and for them to make time for me to tryout is…unbelievable."
Hiyoshi smiled slightly at Ohtori's enthusiasm. "You're very good. What world famous orchestra wouldn't want you?"
Ohtori gave Hiyoshi a big smile. "I'm not that good, Wakashi," he chuckled. He then turned his attention to the neat stack of magazines on the table in front of them.
"Oops!" The stack of magazines toppled almost comically.
Ohtori winced. "My bad."
Hiyoshi, now use to Ohtori's moments of clumsiness, immediately began picking up the magazines that were now spread like a giant collage across the floor.
"I'm sorry," Ohtori apologized sheepishly to his boyfriend, bending down to join him. Hiyoshi waved it off.
Hiyoshi placed the remaining magazines back into their former neat stack. He noticed one magazine had fallen under the table and bent down to pick it up. His fingers touched the glossy magazine cover and he edged it out.
He couldn't hold back a small gasp as he looked at the magazine cover. He barely heard Ohtori saying that he finished picking up all the magazines and expressed relief that the conductor had not been present to witness such an embarrassing moment.
"What are you looking at, Wakashi?" asked Ohtori, peering over Wakashi's shoulder to look at the magazine.
"Nothing!" Hiyoshi snatched the magazine up, making sure the cover was hidden from Ohtori's view. Ohtori cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes full of question.
"Are you…are you okay?" he asked hesitantly.
"I'm fine," said Hiyoshi willing himself to calm down. He took a deep breath.
"Sure? You look a bit flustered."
"I'm fine," Hiyoshi repeated staring at Ohtori's confused face.
Ohtori smiled easily. "Alright. But is the magazine really that interesting?"
Too late, Hiyoshi realized Ohtori had tugged the magazine out of his hands. He watched with a sense of helplessness as Ohtori happily look at the cover, blink, and stared with uncharacteristic intensity at the picture. His expression changed rapidly from happy, to shock, pained, and settled on bewildered as he turned to Wakashi.
Hiyoshi turned away from Ohtori's stare and turned his eyes instead to the picture. It has been seven years, but there was no mistaking it. The unbuttoned white dress shirt was open to reveal a finely sculpted, perfectly tan body. The long, silky black hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Brown eyes stared cockily at the camera, inviting a challenge. Strong features and an all too familiar smirk topped off the handsome face.
Ohtori opened his mouth as if to speak. No sound came out. He shook his head as if to clear away any unwanted thoughts. "'Shishido Ryou takes modeling world by storm'," he managed to whisper.
"Choutarou…," murmured Hiyoshi. "You…Don't…It…It was a thing of the past, okay? It wasn't your fault, so don't blame yourself for what happened."
"Blame myself for what happened? But I don't-"
Polished wooden double doors opened. A man dressed in a simple but graceful two piece suit. "Ohtori Choutarou. We are ready for your audition."
Ohtori dropped the magazine into Hiyoshi's hands and got up mechanically, making his way towards the man, who frowned. "You have brought your own instrument I trust?"
Ohtori turned back. Hiyoshi silently handed him his violin case with a growing feeling of apprehension. "Remember gekokujyou, Choutarou," whispered Hiyoshi, feeling nervous for Ohtori. Ohtori nodded without actually hearing the words of encouragement and took his violin case, retracing his steps back to the door. The man gave Ohtori a critical look before following him into the room and shutting the door behind him.
Hiyoshi sighed. He was getting a bad feeling about this.
He looked back at Shishido's likeness on the magazine cover. The smirk was aggravating him. He slammed the magazine face down on the table, ignoring the many stares he got and a disapproving clucking from the secretary.
"Damn you, Shishido Ryou," growled Hiyoshi.