In which Ryoma and Keigo are (gasp) friends and Ryoma gets flowers from admirers. Or, a fic in which Keigo pines, Ryoma is oblivious to everything (or is he?) and Fuji is a damn good matchmaker (or he thinks). Or, a fic in which inner-Keigo is hysteric and fails at controlling himself. Two-parts because I fail at writing Fuji.
Also, sorry for the late updates (eeepppp).
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Keigo is not sure what would be the worse option: Echizen smirking at him across the net and tossing him an impossibly snotty serve or Echizen frowning petulantly at him for the past minute with no signs of aggression marked on his young face. Although, Keigo admits, an Echizen that is clueless and irritated is as cute as an Echizen who is easily riled up.
Well, not cute. Keigo erased the thought and snaps his attention to the woe of Echizen's current bemusement.
Roses.
"It's not even the season for roses," Keigo tries at last, coughing slightly. He wonders why Echizen would suddenly appear to the gates of his high school with Hyotei high school players gawking about. He also wonders what would be wrong with Echizen's current state of mentality, considering that Echizen was a Seigaku tennis player and Seigaku's and Hyotei's semi-finals would be happening next week. Tensions were high and sharp, but obviously, Echizen wouldn't notice scorching looks. He is an idiot, Keigo decides, no matter how cute he is.
(Again, he tells his inner mind, not cute.)
Echizen's frown now turns into a scowl and he looks aggressive, finally. "Wow," he sneers, and in his irritation, he swings his legs back and forth, kicking the desk he is perched up against. He is acting like a junior high school kid again. "Wow, monkey king, that is brilliant. That is honestly the answer that I've been waiting for. You've staring at this thing for ten minutes and that's your deduction. Bravo, bravo."
"Don't ruin my desk," Keigo says, getting irritated himself. "It's bad enough you came to my school with a bouquet of roses. Which you shoved in my face, I might add."
"And you accepted them." Echizen stops his swinging, though, to offer Keigo a half-smirk. "Did you think I was giving them to you? You seemed flustered."
Keigo rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes, it was my lifelong dream to get roses and declarations of love from a tennis brat," he drawls, although, honestly speaking these days, it wasn't that far off the mark (not, his inner-Keigo snaps at him, not, NOT going there).
Echizen's smirk grows bigger, but he doesn't pursue the issue. "I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't desperate," he points out, which was also true. They never interact publicly, not if Echizen could have helped it, not even if their relationship was more cordial than their initial middle school days.
"They're roses," Keigo says dryly, snapping out of his mind to cast a disdainful look at the roses. "And you found them in your locker room. Must I state the obvious?"
"Our locker rooms are locked though," Echizen says, "Obviously."
"Someone opened them, picked off your locker and threw these roses inside. Honestly, it doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to find this mystery, Echizen." What was more distressing, Keigo thinks, were the roses. These weren't in season, or, not such full bloomed roses anyhow, and so they must have cost a lot. Clearly the person who was enamored to Echizen was serious, or he had much money to spend. Keigo doesn't know what would be the worse option.
Echizen shrugs. "I thought it'd be you," he says off-handedly, "To be honest."
Keigo almost, almost squawks. "What," he says, "What. Excuse me?"
He's suddenly aware of how his school council office is dark and Echizen is across from him. He imagines Echizen to look at him and in his all-knowing smirk drawl out: oh come off it monkey king, it's not as if you were hiding it. And Echizen would lick his lips and look all too pleased with himself as he purrs: you don't think I would have been that blind, the way you were looking at me, Keigo? (he imagines how his name would sound in Echizen's mouth. He should go whack his head against a damn wall).
His imaginary-Ryoma dissipates, as Ryoma looks a little stricken at the way he just phrased his words. "I mean," Echizen stresses, a little too loudly, "I mean. I thought it was a prank. You know, like a diversion since we're playing each other next week." His shoulders slouch and his faces looks troubled. "I asked Fuji-senpai and he told me roses aren't blooming right now. So I thought it'd be you."
Keigo is left to blink. After a beat of silence, he nods slowly, his mind whirling at the new intruder. Fuji. Locked locker rooms. Knowledge of roses.
It really didn't take Sherlock Holmes to solve the problem. Keigo narrows his eyes.
"So if it's not you," Echizen says, and Keigo is pretty sure Echizen's tone is an attempt to sound wheedling, "Can you help me find who it might be?"
Keigo frowns. "Why?" he asks, a little perturbed, "So you can accept the roses and thank this person in question?"
"Nooo," Echizen says, and he says it with such disdain and firmness that Keigo wonders (not for the first time) is Echizen was sexually deficient. "So I can complain about how my clothes stink of roses now. It sucks."
"I have better things to do than chase down one of your admirers," Keigo mutters. Like throttling one Seigaku genius, for one. Swooping up Echizen's lithe body and watching his smirk turn into a blush, for another
(Clearly, his inner Keigo snarls at him, clearly, you need to play more tennis. You're having absurd thoughts.)
"Please?" And that was also one of the things that changed, Echizen's wheedling and blinking his eyes mock-innocently. "Please, Atobe-senpai?" His seniors have been spoiling him too much. Echizen stares at him with feline eyes. It is almost intolerable in all the wrong ways. Keigo manages to roll his eyes and flick Echizen's forehead.
"Your charms don't work on me," he says. "Quit acting, brat."
"Che." Echizen's wide-open look soon morphs into a sulk, and Keigo is soon he will be pouting soon. "I want to focus on practice, not some stupid admirer," he mutters.
An image of Fuji in a dashing white horse galloping away with Ryoma in his arms whirls in his mind, as he is left choking in the dust. Before he can think it through, he allows, "Fine. Fine. We'll find your admirer, and you can owe me a match."
Echizen narrows his eyes. "It isn't much of a deal if you're going to help me and lose afterwards," he says, so sensibly that for a moment Keigo does not register the underlying snide remark Echizen throws at him. Before he can, however, Echizen hurries onwards, with a winning smirk on his face and another tilt of his head. "But, okay, not gonna refuse. See, you can sometimes act nice and decent."
Keigo just stares glumly at him.
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