This is the first thing I wrote before I got back. It's short. And sad.

Sorry.

Warnings: Drunk Tezuka. That's all I gotta say.

Note: I hesitate to even call this OT6, but, yeah.

"Echizen-san." The women at the reception desk greeted him, quietly. She'd only been working at the hotel for a two years and she was already used to his yearly visits. The man before her had sent him sympathetic and despairing looks over his glasses. Which was exactly what he didn't need.

He yawned. Flying always screwed with his sleep. "Same room. "

It took a few minutes for her to hand over the pass key, but eventually he was wheeling his stuff across the lobby and to the elevator.

Two kids laughed in the small place, amused by the fleeting sensation of flying. Ryoma wasn't practicularly overjoyed with children- if only because he'd been a complete brat not too long ago- but he knew Seiichi adored them. He turned away.

Just another day.

You couldn't die from heartbreak.

And even if you could, Ryoma still wouldn't. But there was no denying how being alone felt. It was easier to ignore when he was swept up in tournamets and publicity and fans that looked to him as a role model (why, he didn't understand).

But when he was alone his apartment in America with only himself and Karupin as company, it really hit him that everyone else had a life. All he had was work.

And the friends he did have were already settled down, or making their way toward it. He wanted that.

But, it didn't look like something he'd ever have.

He had already thrown his suit case under the bed when someone knocked.

Ryoma rolled his eyes. He only knew one person who was so creepily punctual. "Just come in, Monkey King."

"I'd thought we'd surpassed that nickname." Atobe nose was twisted in disgust. Of course two over large suitcases were trailing behind him. Ryoma pretended not to notice when the man leaned forward like he was about to give him a kiss.

"Is one of those for your hair products?"

So maybe he still was a little bit of a brat.

Lips curved into a smirk. "Quit calling me that disgusting name and I'll tell you."

On one hand, getting Atobe to admit just how much hair care stuff he had was unheard of. On the other, Fuji and Yukimura would have evidence by midnight.

He shook his head. "Sorry. No deal, Monkey King."

If Atobe hadn't been who he was he would have swore. Instead, he turned on his heel. "I'm going to take a bath."

Yukimura and Fuji showed up next, moving around the room with easy familiarity. They gave him short, light hugs that hurt more then he'd thought it would. He laid down on the bed, the warmth easying his pounding head.

"Is one of those for his hair products?"

Ryoma snorted. Didn't bother to open his eyes. "Don't ask questions you already know the answer to."

"I brought my camera." Yukimura assured and he could just imagine both of their faces.

The door clicked. A few seconds later, the bed sagged at the end and he tilted his head and peered down. Usually hard, brown eyes took him in. That was one thing that got him about Sanada; he never asked you for anything. He just allowed you to give and understood if you didn't.

"Are you feeling alright?"

He realized that everyone- even Atobe who had finally gotten out of the bathroom and had his silky pajamas on- was eyeing him worriedly. The frame of it hung painfully on the wall of his mind. But he nodded. Smirked. Because everyone was happy and nothing hurt and he was fine.

"Who brought the alcohol?"

And Yukimura laughed.

It was around seven when Tezuka showed up, allowing him a small nod and a thin smile. The bed practically screeched under all their weight. They wouldn't break open the refreshments until it got tense.

"How's your fiancée?" Fuji asked, stretched out over Tezuka's lap. Since Ryoma was laying with his head close by, he had to stop himself from reaching over a fingering honey strands. Sanada was tip-tapping on his laptop. Probably devising a lesson plan for his students.

If he hadn't known him, he wouldn't have seen the sudden roll of Atobe's shoulders as he turned away. "Fine."

"I'm sure you'll soon be stuck with a baby just as pompous as you."

It was quiet. Yukimura winced, the shaking of his leg becoming more insistent.

"Mada mada dane."

And they were back. Atobe's mouth twitched at the corners. "Mada mada dane."

"You can't do it like I can. Stop trying."

"Be awed by my prowess." Yukimura snapped his fingers, blue eyes lighting up into a strike of amusement and relief. Glad to be forgiven and past his ill- timed comment.

"No." Atobe asserted. "I have that trademarked. No one else gets to use it."

"That's why-"

They stared at Fuji's tampered gaze.

"-you should never let your guard down."

That found them laughing too loudly, Sanada's mouth twitching from behind his computer. Tezuka didn't look too pleased at being made fun of. But Ryoma knew. They were all too glad to see each other.

Ten o'clock.

They hadn't run out of things to talk about, but the things they wanted to say- they couldn't. It was just how it was. And how probably always would be.

He took time to admire them. It would be another year until he saw them again. By then, most would be married or too busy to really understand how much seeing them meant to him.

Atobe was arguing with Fuji and Yukimura over his hair care products. Tezuka was watching, exasperated, beside Sanada. He realized that every once in a while they'd brush hands. Ryoma bit his lip.

You couldn't die from heartbreak. You couldn't die from heartbreak. You couldn't die from heartbreak. You couldn't die-

Sometimes he felt like that was a lie.

By midnight everyone had fallen on the floor.

And they were drunk. Very, very drunk.

"We need to go to bed." Tezuka decided, blinking blearily. Seeing him even a little tipsy was icing on every cake in existence.

"Yes, sir."

"That's bochou to you."

He heard Yukimura snort, accompanying the sound of Fuji popping his gum. He always had an awful sweet tooth when he was intoxicated. Atobe was strangely thoughtful. And when Ryoma reached across a pillow to ruffle his hair, he smiled. It was small and soft.

When they'd all claimed their places- Fuji and Yukimura tangled together on the floor, Tezuka tucked in with a snoring Sanada, Atobe curled in the middle of them- he swallowed.

"I love you," He whispered to the dark room. And no one answered back.

Possibly TBC.

What the kids have been up to:

Atobe was priming to take over the corporation and expected to marry and have kids. Leave a perfect life. He knew it had to be hard. Having all that expectation carrying around with you. But Atobe went around, no longer just commanding respect, but earning it with his quick attitude and cashmere scarves wrapped haughtily around his neck.

Fuji and Yukimura spent a lot of time pretending that they didn't sleep with each other whenever they came in contact. The former Child of God painted and the Tensai took pictures. They traveled more then anything. Their hearts were the wandering kind so they never tied each other down to anything.

Sanada coached and subsituted at Rikkadai. He was married.

Tezuka was in medical school. On and off with somebody (nobody knew who).