"Ryoma," Tezuka said, looking down at the bundle of blankets and mop of black hair that was his partner. "It's 8 o'clock, you have to get up."
This was normal. Normality was every morning Tezuka trying in vain to get his partner up before 8 so that he could eat breakfast before practice. Breakfast was, after all, the most important meal of the day and Tezuka would not let Ryoma go to a long day of training with only a slice of toast and a cereal bar.
Ryoma didn't move. But it was the sort of not moving that implied he was pretending to sleep.
Tezuka sighed, grabbed Ryoma's shoulder, flipped him onto his back and pressed a kiss onto his lips.
"Get up," Tezuka said firmly as Ryoma smirked up at him.
