Omi's disproportionate feelings of elation soon faded. He was hardly going to impress this gorgeous guy with his sporting ability… And he looked his worst in his games kit. Not that his best was particularly stunning either…
And why he worrying about it anyway? It wasn't as if he seriously had a chance, or as if a universe existed in which he had any chance of having a chance…
He stood up reluctantly as Ken (who in Omi's fantasy world had no objections to being called by his first name) put them all into pairs to start with some "simple passing exercises". No doubt he'd find them incredibly difficult, as he seemed to have no co-ordination at all (especially when it mattered, like in front of cute guys..) and he knew he wouldn't have anyone to work with. Nobody ever wanted to go with him in games. And Ken would think he was just a skinny, unsporty kid with no friends. If it even crossed his mind to think anything of him at all…
This was most definitely lame. And embarrassing.
Oh yes.
"Hidaka-san?"
Omi blushed as Ken turned to him with a kind smile. "You can call me Ken, I'm not old or anything! What's up, uhm…and what's your name?"
"Ts-tsukiyono Omi," he stuttered, gone all shy.
Of all the things in the world Omi was, he was NOT shy!
This guy just had a strange effect on him.
And who would blame him?
"I, uhm, don't have anyone to work with," he said lamely. Ken glanced around at the other boys, who were blatantly not doing as he had said, but paired off anyway.
"Oh, well, it's OK, you can go with me!" he said and Omi smiled nervously. If they were working together, well, that was great, maybe they would talk a bit but…he was just so bad! Ken was nearly a professional or something, he'd said, and he'd think he was so lame!
Oh dear…
"I'm not very good," he mumbled.
Ken grinned at him.
"Doesn't matter," he said, and Omi suddenly felt a bit better. Ken wouldn't care if he was rubbish - he was way too nice for that!
But, he thought wryly as the ball flew off in a direction completely not the one he had intended, he hadn't been wrong - he really wasn't very good at all!
He didn't care though; Ken was really patient and helpful, and still gave him those smiles that made his heart miss a beat. Unfortunately, he was spending too much time telling off the rest of the class for them to get round to any conversation.
Not that any conversation would go anywhere, Ken was his teacher, after all! Of sorts. Which meant he also kind of wasn't, right? Anyway, although he didn't really look it, he had to be a FEW years older than him, at least…
Omi watched sadly as Ken tried to get the class to calm down and practice their shooting. None of them seemed to accept his authority at all, and he was too nice to remedy that by shouting, even once, and even when they insulted him to his face. Omi wished they would treat him well. Not that many of them had the brain-capacity to BEGIN to understand the word "respect"…
Ken was saved from looking like an idiot (a cute and well-meaning one, of course) for any longer by the fact that it was the end of the lesson. Everyone rushed off to the changing rooms, ignoring requests for help carrying in the equipment.
"I'll help," Omi offered as Ken sighed tiredly, hoping he didn't sound TOO desperately like he was sucking-up! Ken nodded gratefully and chucked him a football. Which he missed.
"See? I'm lame." He was delighted to hear Ken laughing, and knew it wasn't at him.
"Omi, it's not important," he said, starting to gather up the cones they'd been using. His voice suited Omi's name. Omi thought so anyway. "It's not everything, it's just a game…I do it for a job, but you know, only 'cause I like it…as long as you enjoy it…" He looked up at Omi. "But you don't do you?" he asked shrewdly.
"It's not that I…no. In fact, I hate it."
Ken stared at him for a second, then they both laughed.
"Well, I'll try and make it fun for you, K?"
Promises, promises…
Omi pushed all thoughts he really shouldn't be having - well, SOME of them - from his mind and nodded, grinning.
Ken passed him some of the stuff he was holding and started towards the school building.
"Don't worry about the rest, I'll come back and get it in a bit," he said, and Omi followed him happily.
They walked in silence, Omi feeling awkward and nervous and on a natural high at the same time. As they neared the school, he couldn't stop himself from blurting out a question he'd been pondering this whole time…
"Ken, how old are you?"
Ken looked at him and chuckled. He looked SOOO handsome when he laughed, Omi thought longingly.
"Twenty."
"Oh. You're not much older than me after all!" he commented, then blushed furiously as he realised what he'd said. Could Ken know what he'd been thinking about their ages? Which weren't that far apart, were they?
He coughed. "I mean…"
"No," Ken said, watching him. "I'm not at all… Here, leave that stuff down here, you'll be late for your next class… See you later, Omi." Ken looked at him for a second, then turned away and headed off toward the equipment cupboard.
"Bye, Ken…" Omi managed to say eventually, then rushed off to get changed.
It had been an interesting lesson. For once.
TBC