A/N: I present to you a set of drabbles featuring the Tezuka x Ryoma pairing. I ain't really an expert with this pairing so please brace with it. And as you do so, do tell me what you think of it. =P

This is to be dedicated to Kairou Watoshimi for his/her support in my TezuRyo/s. I thank him/her for doing so. :D

Warning: Written while I was sulking. Blergh. Think of it. I was partly sulking and at the same time, excited as I will go to an anime convention tomorrow. Anyway, expect OOCness, grammatical errors, blabla, the usual. :) Oh, and kissing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis

Together

by Zero-onE001

Reason

"Why are you doing this?" Ryoma asked softly, sitting on a small bench inside the tennis clubroom, watching as the stoic captain slip his uniform on.

Tezuka spared a glance at him. "What?"

"Honing me," the Prince started, golden orbs clouded by confusion staring at the older male. "…paying attention to my tennis, as though…" his eyes indiscernibly widened at his next thoughts. "…I mean something to you."

"Maybe you do," Tezuka stated, gently slamming his locker shut.

"Buchou," the Prince once again shattered the relative silence in the clubroom. He continued even though the captain was not looking at him. "Do you like me?"

The bespectacled man didn't know how to respond, so he pondered on the question for a short while. He turned around, looking the pillar straight in the eyes as though he was peering through him.

"Maybe I do."

Good Kisser

"Maybe you don't know how to kiss."

Tezuka wondered how their conversation ended up like that when they were previously talking about the things they would add in their training regime.

The two of them were at the bespectacled captain's house, as the owner had invited his kohai after the latter muttered something about how he felt sleepy after their training and how his legs hurt like hell from all the running and how he could not walk anymore toward his own house.

"If you want to sleep over, you should've said it," Tezuka told Ryoma halfway through their trek home, concealing the amusement in his voice. He watched as the freshman falter slightly in his steps, claiming that he did not know what Tezuka meant.

The captain of Seigaku was supposed to be alone in their house that night, so he though that inviting Ryoma won't be that bad. And since they were alone, they had to eat by themselves as well, like what they're currently doing.

"Heh," the voice of the Prince broke his thoughts as he glanced at the said male who was slowly chewing his food. "So buchou don't, ah?" Ryoma smirked.

Normally, Tezuka wouldn't have minded the teasing of the younger prodigy. But something told him that this was not a normal day; and even though they were on the respected dining table, he found himself uncontrollable.

He leaned forward, closing the distance between him and Ryoma—who was seated across him on the dining table—and captured his lips in a chaste kiss.

Tezuka let his lips linger on the younger's own before pulling back, eyeing Ryoma who was blinking blankly at him, a look of startle flickering in his golden orbs for a split second as it vanished rather immediately.

He waited for a reaction.

"Mada mada dane."

If Tezuka wasn't a fine and composed young lad, he would've whacked his companion over the head at his expected rudeness, but since he was, he just gave a strained cough before going back to his meal.

"Look here, buchou," he snapped his head to the boy across him. Ryoma wagged a finger in front of Tezuka's face, smirking cockily, his eyes having an odd glint in them. "I'll show you how to kiss."

With that said, he leaned forward and copied what Tezuka did, but not ending with that as he started nipping and nibbling on the captain's bottom lip.

Tezuka was rather shocked at the turn of the events. He knew that he had to reprimand the younger man for he was now crawling across the table toward him, who knows whether he was kicking and spilling the food placed on it, but he can't—not if he was preoccupied at the moment by someone's lips on his.

As for Ryoma, he was enjoying the torture he was bringing to the older man as he knew that the latter was being paranoid about his lack of mannerism. Knowing Tezuka, it was not a surprise if it was his second kiss, the first being initiated by the captain, himself. He gripped the captain's jaw open, forcing his tongue inside and successfully earning a surprised gasp from the man.

There was a soft slick sound as Ryoma's tongue continued to assault Tezuka's mouth, probing deeper along the caverns inside, making the bespectacled captain uncharacteristically groan. He crawled closer, threading his hands around Tezuka's tresses. His skillful mouth bit and nipped, and then—

Tezuka was brought back down to earth as he felt the younger boy's tongue clashing against his own, and he instantly realized that he had to stop his ministrations, as in, like, now. He pressed his rather large hands on the Prince's shoulders, pushing him away. But as he started to move, he instantly felt the wind knocked out of him and himself being sucked by gravity.

A loud crashing sound resonated against the walls of the room as the chair where Tezuka was previously seated on toppled over, followed by a continuous groans from the two.

"Ow…" Ryoma felt himself being cradled into a sitting position. As he opened his eyes, he realized that Tezuka was sitting up, with him straddling the captain's waist. He just smirked, despite knowing that they were on some sort of a provocative sitting position.

The bespectacled man pushed his glasses on the bridge of his nose as it had fallen askew. He let out a soft sigh.

Ryoma's a good kisser, all right.

Holding Hands

"What do you think, Fuji?" Kikumaru asked as he and his best friend entered the clubroom.

Fuji tilted his head thoughtfully. "I think holding hands should be the first," he replied, starting to change into his Regular uniform.

Momoshiro's ears perked up at that. "What are you talking about, Fuji-senpai?"

"Hm?" the tensai turned to Momoshiro. "Oh, Eiji here was asking what lovers should do first when they get together: hold hands or kiss."

"Oh."

"For real?" Kikumaru asked once more, successfully pulling his head out of the shirt hole. "Cool! Oishi and I held hands first, nya!"

Awkward silence.

"E-Eiji," Oishi blushed furiously, breaking the silence. "You really shouldn't—"

"Kikumaru," Tezuka drawled out to the red-haired acrobat who seemed oblivious to the effect of his outburst.

"Hai, nya?"

The captain felt the need to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Ten laps."

"Wha—"

"E-Eiji…"

"Heh, interesting."

"Fshuuu."

Twitch. "Twenty."

"EH? What for?" Kikumaru exclaimed, outraged. Oishi kept tugging on the acrobat's shirt to shut him up, but to no avail.

"For being noisy. Fifty laps," the bespectacled captain shut his locker door rather loudly. "All of you."

There was a concerto of protests from the Regulars, but they immediately shut up as Tezuka shot them a look. One by one, they left to do their laps. Tezuka finally let out a sigh, hoisting his tennis bag and at the same time noticing the freshman Regular staring blankly at his left hand. He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you not doing your laps?"

Ryoma broke his gaze at his hand in order to look at the captain. "We never hold hands," he said rather casually.

"And?"

"We already kissed," he added, his large, innocent-looking golden orbs looking straight at Tezuka.

The older male frowned, not making anything out of Ryoma's words. "So?"

The prodigy felt slight irritated. "Fuji-senpai said that lovers hold hands first, and then kiss. Why aren't we holding hands when we already kissed?" he asked rather innocently. Too innocently.

Tezuka pondered about it. "Should we?"

"Maybe," the Prince muttered, clearly seeing nothing wrong with the idea. "You won't mind?"

"No."

"Okay."

When they were walking home a tad bit later, the issue about holding hands was already forgotten. But they did remember it when Tezuka's hands accidentally brushed against Ryoma a few blocks from the latter's house.

The pillar blinked, looking down at their hands before moving on to intertwine his hand with the captain's, inserting his fingers on the gaps of Tezuka's relatively larger hand.

The bespectacled boy glanced at him, but said nothing as he only clasped the younger boy's hand with his own.

First Names

Ryoma studied the plain white racket that belonged to his captain as the latter was busy getting the two of them something to drink. He tested the grip, poked the strings, and all. As he did that, he somehow noticed the letter T inscribed at the bottom of the racket.

He blinked, wondering why it was letter T, because as far as he knew, the captain's name is Kunimitsu, and that was not starting with a letter T.

The door to Tezuka's bedroom opened and the bespectacled man emerged, balancing a tray in his hands. He settled it on his study table before sparing a glance at the prodigy, who was sprawled on the floor, using his supposed to be Japanese History homework as the pillow. "Have you finished—"

"Ne, buchou," Ryoma casually interrupted, earning an annoyed glance from the captain. He settled the racket beside him, flipping on his side. "What's your name?"

Tezuka gave him a blank WTF look as he wondered what the heck was running in the prodigy's mind. He answered, nonetheless. "Tezuka. Now, have you—"

A snort of laughter rudely interrupted him, and he was forced to give up on asking the other man if he had done his homework. "What?"

"I thought you're Kunimitsu."

"I am Kunimitsu," he stated rather dryly, still puzzled as Ryoma was acting like that.

"But you just said that you're Tezuka."

"I am both," the captain's hand itched to pinch the bridge of his nose. And he did, since it was only Ryoma who was in the room to see him. "He died on the eighth of June, 1651," he tried to change the topic.

"Iemitsu," the pillar replied, giving Tezuka a dirty look. "You are Kunimitsu. And I'm Ryoma."

Oh. It barely registered to Tezuka's mind that he had caught on what Ryoma was playing at. He sighed, resisting the urge to face-palm. "Sure, Ryoma."

Together

"Ryoma," Tezuka voiced out as the freshman slid the door open. The latter only blinked at him blankly before slamming it shut at the captain's face. Tezuka tilted his head slightly backward as to not get his nose hit. "Oi." He added in surprise.

There was a hurried sound of footsteps pacing back and forth, plus some metallic noise and a loud thud that made the bespectacled captain wonder what the boy was doing inside. But before his thoughts could go on, the door opened once more, revealing a disgruntled Ryoma with his hair disheveled. "In," he said rather grumpily, going back inside even without the captain's confirmation.

Tezuka watched as his kohai yanked two cushions from who-knows-where and flung one to a side of the coffee table, settling himself on the other. He glanced at the captain, popping a can of grape Ponta open. "You didn't tell me you're coming."

The said captain took the cushion before taking his time noting how the younger cleaned his house in, like, a minute just because he stopped by. It occurred to him that Ryoma's mother might've reprimanded him into acting with hospitality toward visitors.

"I did," he told Ryoma.

There was a silence after that.

"Ne, Kunimitsu." That silence was broken by the Prince. Tezuka tore his gaze from the visible part of the Echizens' messy kitchen to look at him. "Are we together?"

The captain's eyes slightly widened, suddenly fearing that the young prodigy was not contented with their current relationship. "Why?"

"Nothing," Ryoma drawled out after taking a long swig from his favorite soda. A smirk suddenly flashed across those lips. "I got you there." His smirk got impossibly wider.

Tezuka let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He looked away, smiling oh-so-slightly. "Such a brat," he muttered under his breath.

But it did not escape Ryoma's exceptional hearing. "Your brat, Mitsu. Your brat."

R&R!