Hopelessly romantic and hopelessly stoic on a hopelessly cold winter evening.
He hissed.
"You're going to break it."
He straightened up and looked behind him.
"I'd hate to see such a wonderful player lose his arm because of stupid mistakes."
Kunimitsu Tezuka's jaws tightened.
"I'm sorry if I upset you. I just came to offer my condolences, even though they are late."
"You didn't have to come all they way, but thank you."
"Maybe it was fate that I be the one to stop you from butchering your arm."
Tezuka's eyes narrowed.
"I can help you get around it, if you want."
He remained silent.
"Do you mind if I come in?"
"Feel free. This is public domain."
"I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable," he said, walking in and closing the entrance after him. "Show me your grip."
Tezuka held out his hand, gripping the racquet.
"That's way over. I'm going to tilt it this much," he said, tilting the racquet anti-clockwise a quarter of a centimeter. "Try this one."
Tezuka turned back to the wall he was hitting.
"Wait."
Tezuka looked over his shoulder.
"You need to adjust your swing and contact point as well. Do you know them?"
"The contact point is closer but the swing doesn't change."
"Wrong."
Tezuka's eyes widened slightly.
"Everything changes."
"I can't change everything right now."
"Your arm will not hold. If you don't take a step back for two forward, you will only take one forward for two backwards." He paused. "I know you can beat me no problem, just listen to my advice on this. You don't have to take it after I leave – just try it."
Tezuka held out his racquet.
He raised his eyebrow.
"Show me then."
His hand reached out and held Tezuka's arm, leading him to turn around and put his hand over Tezuka's around the grip. "This is how you play with least impact on the elbow. You use your pecs and bicep to absorb most of the impact while keeping the elbow mobile." He lead the arm back and demonstrated the swing in slow motion, dipping the the racquet more than usual. "You compromise some speed, but you gain lots of spin and lose a lot of pain."
"Turn," he said, putting a hand on Tezuka's hip to turn him sideways a little.
Tezuka tensed and jumped out of it.
He blinked. "Ah... Kunimitsu Tezuka of Seigaku is ticklish? Fine, I won't touch," he teased. "Come on. Try it," he said, standing near the entrance.
He watched Tezuka awkwardly adjust his grip and try the new swing. The first few attempts weren't coordinated he had to stop him a few times to adjust the swing. It was minutes later that he smiled.
"There. That wasn't so painful, was it?"
Tezuka looked down at his hand holding the racquet. "It's better. I just need to remember to use it."
He snorted. "Yes, I know how that goes with tennis and late change."
The corners of Tezuka's mouth lifted.
"So, did you like it?"
"It's less painful."
"If you use your shoulder, abs and waist more, it'll be painless."
They went to the courts. Tezuka lent him a racquet.
First, they rallied at the service line. Then, they slowly moved back to the baseline. By the end, they moved back to the service line and started hitting lazily.
They met at the net at the end and shook hands.
"So, how does it feel?"
"Awkward."
"I know, it's not easy to change a swing style. You do have a bothersome spin on it. I do hope you keep using it – it really is a way to reduce strain on your elbow."
Tezuka nodded. "I'll try it out some more before I decide on it."
"Ok."
His eyes caught the shivers at the tips of Tezuka's lips and fingers.
"Why don't you put your pullover on and we can got for some hot chocolate – since we're both here."
"That won't be necessary. I should be going home."
"That's too bad – I wanted company."
He looked at Tezuka intently, whose lips were twitching to curl up. "Do you use that on your captain too?"
"All the time," he replied, winking. "Come on," he added with a fake pout.
The smile unveiled but Tezuka looked down. "You know, I didn't feel this light since my grandmother died."
He dared to reach out to touch Tezuka's pale cheek and return his gaze to him. "You should always smile."
The ghost of a smile turned upside down. Tezuka shook his head and went to pack in his bag. "I'm sorry... I can't."
Tears. He saw drops fall on the floor and the bag and reached out to pick up the folded pullover next to the bag while Tezuka zipped up his bag then held it out when Tezuka's eyes looked for it. It was too cool from being neglected on the cool surface for a long time. Tears on the rims of the glasses.
Tezuka straightened up and took it, mumbling, "thanks," before he pocketed his glasses and wore the pullover.
Big brown eyes, he noted, his own eyes widening. They're so much bigger than when behind those lenses.
Another shiver ran through Tezuka, and as he reached for his bag, his right hand was engulfed in warmth. He looked up, surprised. Following his hand, he straightened up once more, not able to see the expression because of his glasses being in his pocket. A ghost of a touch wiped the bottom lid of his right eye before warmth completely engulfed him.
"When was the last time you slept well?"
A shiver ran through him. "A while." A hand covered the back of his head then stayed against his neck, emanating warmth all over. "What are you doing?"
"I'm a little cold so I'm using you as a temporary heater," he drawled, smiling.
Quite honestly, Tezuka was too tired and comfortable to care.
"Isn't that where you go, 'don't get careless', Tezuka-buchou?"
A small laugh escaped Tezuka's frame before he straightened up to meet a knowing smile.
"There, it's back."
A small hint of a blush crept up Tezuka's cheeks.
"Very cute, buchou. Come on, let's go get something warm and then I'll drive you home."
"You drive?"
He nodded.
"I..." Tezuka looked away and pulled his glasses out, cleaning them on his shirt.
"Would you rather walk, then?"
Tezuka slipped his glasses on and looked into deep, dark blue eyes. "Actually, I'd appreciate a drive very much."
He smiled and nodded towards the door. "Let's go then."
Tezuka carried his bag and followed him to his car. "Nice ride," he said, putting his bag in the trunk.
"Wait till you hear the sound system," he replied, his eyes glinting wickedly.
Tezuka still wore the hint of a smile as he opened the door and lowered himself into the car.
Barely any start hum came as the Mercedes Benz SLK 55 AMG came to life, its lights contrasting the control board and its stereo system flooding the space.
"...to see you in the morning with those big brown eyes, you're my everything. Forever everyday I need you close to me..."
"What a coincidence," he said reducing the volume as he pulled out of the lot. "So, what do you like to listen to?"
Tezuka looked back into the car. "Actually, is it ok if you turn it off?"
Without touching the power node, the sound system went quiet.
Tezuka's brows rose slightly before he noticed the controls on the steering wheel. He turned to the road then glanced at the meter. "You drive fast."
"Not that fast," he laughed.
The rest of the short ride was quiet. He occasionally glanced at Tezuka who was looking out the window. When he parked, he looked at him again, stopping short. Uhm... He slept, he thought, would he be angry if I... Hm. He sat on his knees, slowly reached over and slipped the glasses off, very carefully, and slipped them into a designated holder in the car's frame, folded. He smiled. Very handsome. He found himself getting close, closer... and closer... until lids parted slowly and revealed deep brown orbs looking back confusedly. He pulled himself up quickly.
"Would you rather I take you home?" he said.
"No," Tezuka said, his voice armed with tire. "Not home."
His brows frowned. "Aren't you tired?"
"Too much crying... yelling..."
Tezuka's eyes closed once more and he took a deep breath.
"Tennis."
Is he sleep-talking? He smiled at the sight. "Do you want something to drink? Or are you warm?"
"Hm?"
Tezuka sat up, mental dishevel radiating in his eyes though the rest of him was respectably composed.
Epitome of cute.
"I can't see," he stated. "Where are my-" he stopped when his frames were against his hands. "Thanks," he said, putting the on. He blinked. "Yuushi Oshitari of Hyoutei."
"In the flesh," Oshitari said, smirking. "Do you want to get that drink?" he said, nodding towards the almost empty plush cafe in front of them.
Tezuka looked at it for a few seconds before nodding.
Many seconds later, the car clicked locked as they walked into the cafe. Oshitari hung his jacket and scarf on the hanger next to the glass door and turned to Tezuka. "Are you comfortable?"
Tezuka nodded before his eyes widened. "I need my wallet from the-"
"Forget it. This is my treat," Oshitari said with a sense of finality in his voice as a hand behind Tezuka's back gently prodded him forward. "They have the best hot chocolate in Tokyo here," he said, smiling at the waitress.
"Ah, nice to see you again, Yuushi-kun!" she greeted.
"Nice to see you too."
"You brought a friend today."
"Yes, this is Kunimitsu Tezuka," he replied.
"Nice to meet you," Tezuka politely said.
"Ah, nice to meet you too. Very handsome!" she laughed, winking at Oshitari who still smiled.
"Do you want milk or white chocolate?" he asked.
"Uhm... I've never tried white chocolate."
"Try it. You can change it if you don't like it."
Tezuka nodded slightly.
Oshitari nodded at the waitress. "Two of them then."
"Coming right up!"
"Actually, Joy, can you bring it to the car in paper cups?"
"Ok, no problem."
"Do you want anything to eat?" he said, glancing at Tezuka.
"Don't you want to sit?"
"You look very tired. I wouldn't want to be the cause of more strain," he said, paying.
Tezuka watched him in wonder then followed him to the hanger once more before his eyes fell on the outside. He felt a shiver run through him at the thought of the cold. How did I even put up with that? Then, his attention was brought back when warmth engulfed his neck.
"Come on, let's go," Oshitari said, holding the door.
Tezuka looked down at the scarf around his neck and stepped out. "Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" Oshitari said, waving at the waitress inside. She nodded.
"Is everyone in Hyoutei this courteous?"
"Can I ask you something?"
Tezuka looked at him.
They stood in front of the car, facing each other.
Oshitari ran his fingers on the back of his neck before exhaling.
"It's quite daring, but..."
"What is it that you want to know?"
"Would you consider... going out with me?"
Tezuka's eyes widened.
"That is, if you even swing that way," Oshitari said, quickly. "Nevermind."
As he turned, Tezuka's hand stopped him.
He looked up into Tezuka's brown eyes looking right back into his. "Don't get careless," Tezuka said with a hint of a smile.
The waitress cooed from behind the counter. "Silly boys," she giggled.
"Order 32," the other waiter announced as they two behind the large window parted.
"Indeed," she laughed, quickly bagging two blueberry muffins and grabbing their drinks, and made her way out to their car. She lowered the drinks first. Oshitari took them and passed one to Tezuka. She then lowered the small paper bag.
"Uhm, that's not ours, Joy."
"Of course it is, it's from me for two very handsome boys. Are you going to turn me down, Yuushi-kun?" she replied.
Oshitari laughed as Tezuka's blush deepened. "You truly are a princess, Joy."
"Aw, thank you. Have a pleasant evening you two!"
"Thank you."
"Bye, Tezuka-kun!" she sang, waving and laughing as she ran back in.
"Was she in Hyoutei too?"
Oshitari chuckled as the window sealed. He pulled out of the lot and drove. "I would invite you to my place, but I don't think it's appropriate. You should go home and put up with all the screaming and grieving – you will only feel guilty if you run away."
The rest of the drive was silent as Tezuka directed them to his house.
"Thank you for today, Oshitari-"
"-Yuushi."
Tezuka swallowed. "Thank you for today, Yuushi."
Oshitari nodded.
Tezuka left the car and went to the trunk. Oshitari followed him, feeling sadness and disappointment leak from Tezuka.
"Trust me. You want to be as close as possible to family right now, they'll appreciate it forever." He said, putting his hand on Tezuka's right elbow.
Tezuka nodded.
"Give me your phone."
Tezuka looked up but reached into his pocket and fished out his mobile phone.
Oshitari took it and punched in a number. "This is my number. You can call me anytime."
Tezuka nodded.
Oshitari bent his knees to meet Tezuka's downcast eyes. "I'll bring hot chocolate and a muffin too."
"It was a good a muffin," Tezuka said, the corners of his lips lifting once more.
Oshitari smiled. "It was, wasn't it?"
Tezuka nodded, the hint of the smile disappearing once more as the trunk opened. He carried his bag.
"Hey," Oshitari said, attracting his attention. "Smile. I don't want my first evening with my big brown eyes to end without a smile."
Tezuka couldn't control the smile that drew itself on his lips.
Oshitari smiled back. "And please don't make it the last. It's completely your call," he said, placing a quick kiss on the pale cheek and adjusted the scarf before pushing a strand off Tezuka's face..
Tezuka's eyes widened in realization and he reached for the scarf.
Oshitari's hand covered his own. "Give it to me next time you see me."
Tezuka nodded. "Goodnight, Yuushi."
"Goodnight, Kunimitsu."
Oshitari leaned against the trunk as Tezuka walked away and turned to wave as he opened the front door. He smiled back. When the door closed, Oshitari climbed back into the car.
Tezuka took a step in. "I'm home."
"Welcome home, Kunimitsu," his mother greeted him, smiling.
His smile widened slightly.
"It's been a while since I saw that smile," she said, running her hand through his hair.
He leaned down and kissed her head. "Goodnight mother."
"Goodnight, baby."
He held up the phone and looked at the number on it, saving it as he entered his room. A shower later, he sat on his bed, looking at the scarf against his pillow and realized that Oshitari hadn't taken his number in return making it completely, unconditionally his call to do anything.
He lied down under the covers and held the scarf, and his lips remained in their upward curl through the night.
And that was how the hopelessly romantic and the hopelessly stoic started a hopelessly devoted life together... with hopelessly good memories of white hot chocolate, pleasant whispers and blueberry muffins on a hopelessly cold winter evening.
Sequel?