katalystik
tezuryo
R
start515.end529.
Sandstorm
Summary: "Ryoma couldn't help but feel he was losing to Tezuka once again." TezuRyo
Ryoma never knew what was coming. His intuition- his prediction of the next move, the instinct of how and when to move- to where- and /why/- had stopped responding alltogether. His every thought had been focused onto the instant and the now of Tezuka.
Tezuka, swinging with measured abandon, intense and moving. It was hard to get into a rhythm with the captain- Ryoma could never tell what exactly the stoic boy was thinking. It was like he just couldn't move fast enough- like his legs were dead weights and his brain was in stasis. Time with Tezuka was something Ryoma could never get used to, and he often found himelf being caught up in it like a whirlpool, being swirled senseless. Revolving.
Rocking. Tezuka thrust patiently, still watching Ryoma and infuriating the younger boy. With each push Ryoma tried to push back, to catch up- but he was still back on the court, the time in between the match and the hallway and the wall between the bathroom and the bed lost altogether to him. He was still trying to catch up to Tezuka, panting and kneading the broad shoulders above him. He didn't know how it came to this, blinded by the chase and by the sting of sweat in his eyes.
Ryoma couldn't help but feel he was losing to Tezuka once again.