Title: The Second Time
--| Part 1 |--
They never really dated. Because they were two boys and it never occurred to them to do anything of the kind in their time together. On occasion they'd stop off to eat somewhere and Ryoma would wily remind Tezuka that it was a senpai's duty to look after a kohai ... therefore he should pay, and normally Tezuka did little but grunt in response and order his own food. One could hardly call that a date. Even on the extremely rare occasion that Tezuka did pay for Ryoma's food, they would eat mostly in silence, with what little interaction there was being far from affectionate. When they would walk home together it had more to do with Ryoma's home and the train station happening to be in the same direction from the tennis courts, and when they parted sometimes they did so without even a wave or acknowledgment that the other person had been walking along side for so long.
They did however play an extraordinary amount of tennis together, which was enough for Tezuka to justify all the rest and certainly enough for Ryoma. Tezuka didn't like talking and Ryoma didn't really like talking to Tezuka, so things were pretty content and amicable without the decadence of a formal courtship.
With winter had come the end of Seigaku tennis club's regular practices. They were now in the off season, and club duties would move into shorter meetings to organize training menus and prepare the club to handle the difficult transition when the 3rd years graduated. A new Captain and Vice-Captain would have to be selected with a near guarantee of chaos between Momo and Kaidoh as the best candidates for Captain of the 3rd years. Ryoma might at the very least be able to keep a civil war from breaking out as Vice-Captain but as a second year it would not be appropriate for him to take on the role of Captain just yet.
"Shouldn't you be studying for exams?" Ryoma said. He didn't usually talk when they were walking, not unless he had something he absolutely wanted to say. While he enjoyed his quality Tezuka time, it was true that most of the other graduating 3rd years were spending their valuable time studying for Highschool exams. Even Fuji and Inui who seemed to excel in school quite naturally were busy preparing themselves.
"No, I've already passed and been accepted to my first choice school."
"Oh," Figures
Ryoma wasn't sure how he felt about the way the last couple of months of school were progressing, or what-- all things considered-- he was supposed to feel about it. Everyday he and Tezuka would go to the indoor tennis court not far from Seigaku and play. It's somewhere he and Tezuka separately would have ended up during the off season anyway, and the ball machine stopped being a challenge after ten or twenty minutes. So in a way it was more a marriage of convenience than anything else.
Occasionally Momo-senpai would tag along, and on even rarer occasions Fuji-senpai would join them too. But mostly it was just the two of them.
He still hadn't beaten him. It was irritating, but invigorating at the same time. He could feel like he was getting closer, just a little more, a little more improvement and then he'd be on the same level as Tezuka. He was already about even with Fuji as it was; Tezuka was a difficult hurdle, but not an impossible one. Not like his father was anyway.
Often he thought about what it would be like to watch Tezuka play his father, just to see how far he could go ... just to see Nanjiroh actually serious about something for once. He didn't think Tezuka could beat Nanjiroh, but it would be interesting to judge how big the difference in skill was and to know how far he had to go before he could make that obnoxious old man cry like the big stupid bab--
Well ... that was still a ways away, first he would have to beat Tezuka.
But one day....
He was startled out of his thoughts by the droplet of water that fell sharply on his nose and rolled down his lip. The taste of fresh rain made a worried frown curl up his face. Damnit, had that stupid old man let him see the paper he might have known to bring an umbrella with him today! But nooooo Nanjiroh had to maintain his precious cover so he could peruse his dirty magazines in peace. Really, it wasn't like anyone in the room didn't know what he was doing anyway--
....well it didn't matter now.
Ryoma gave an uncharacteristic squeak as the clouds that seemed only a little gray and innocent a few moments ago opened up and drops fell with growing frequency. Faster and faster until it was pouring down, the air heavy and wet around them.
Tezuka took off his jacket-- not his Seigaku regular jersey, the cold and the off season had retired that for the time being, but a heavier olive colored coat he had been wearing for the winter. The material on the outside was durable, light, raincoat like material, the inside lined with soft wool. It came down little past his waist with deep pockets he could shove his hands into when he walked and a plain silver colored zipper. He held it over both out their heads as a makeshift umbrella.
Ryoma looked up. A normal person would have met Ryoma's slightly surprised look and smiled some explanation that wasn't really at all necessary, but Tezuka wasn't a normal person and he didn't like doing things that didn't have a specific point to them. He did little to acknowledge Ryoma aside from tilting his head a bit so that his eyes could flicker briefly in Ryoma's direction before they went back to staring straight ahead without a word.
Ryoma sighed lightly and gave into a little smile. He moved in as close as he could without tripping Tezuka and scanned the street carefully. It was a nice gesture, but they both knew the jacket made lousy protection in a rainstorm this hard.
"There," Ryoma pointed out a store front with a large green awning.
For a moment there was no point in trying to hide under the jacket while they ran to the shelter of the awning, it would just slow them down while the rain continued to soak both of them. So it was thrown unceremoniously over Tezuka's shoulder as the two of them scrabbled down the street in the pouring rain.
The store's doorway provided a suitable shelter from the downpour, and the store owners kindly ignored the two Jr. High students loitering outside. Aside from being almost soaked, they looked pretty presentable and respectable, not the types to cause problems for their customers.
"Well, well..." Ryoma hummed, staring out at the concrete as the water pounded it in rhythmic explosions of water droplets. He was pretty wet, trails of rain water were already twisting their way down strands of his hair and his skin was flushed with a glow of ice cold rain. "How annoying."
Tezuka watched a solitary droplet of water creep down Ryoma's forehead. It was small, no larger than the size of a tear, but its coldness was leaving the faintest trail of red down his pale skin. Without a second thought he wiped it away with his thumb, Ryoma's eyes flicker up curiously and then he smiled again.
Tezuka wasn't exactly the friendliest person Ryoma knew, but he had something about him ... something buried deep down inside of him past all the reserve, refinement and strength (and well just plain scariness) people associated with him that was very gentle and unreasonably shy. He really cared deeply about his teammates, about Seigaku, about everything that he felt it was his reasonability to care about. Everyone on Seigaku's tennis team knew this, but no one had the view quite like Ryoma's.
Ryoma straighten up a little when he felt Tezuka moving closer. He had a habit of slouching, and the height different between the two of them Ryoma found truly irritating in moments like this. He always felt like he had to stand on his tippie-toes and that just ruined the ... well the aesthetic of the experience for him. Fortunately, most of the time when their lips touched he found better distractions than being self-conscious about his height, like trying to figure out what Tezuka was thinking. His robotic, logical charm made it difficult to imagine him kissing anyone for any reason, even to Ryoma who already knew better.
With two people who could walk down the street together for at least 20 minutes without saying a single word to each other, one might find it hard to imagine any passion at all in their relationship at all. But to the contrary things always got seriously pretty fast when they kissed. Tezuka was not very expressive with his emotions, but he was honest about them, and Ryoma had a peculiar habit of getting very aggressive when he was excited and using his teeth when he kissed. What had started off as a sweet, simple gesture had gotten very intense under Ryoma's provocation.
He ran his fingers through Tezuka's hair, something he knew Tezuka liked even though he had never expressly said so, and pushed himself up as if trying break gravity and float onto an equal level with him. He liked the little start Tezuka gave when his sharp canine teeth just skimmed the edge of his lower lip. He liked when Tezuka's arms were holding him tightly in place, as if he might escape if given the chance. Those were good instincts, he thought, it would not be beyond Ryoma to tease or pull away of the last minute.
Ryoma allowed himself to look a little hurt when Tezuka pushed him gently but firmly away, until he followed the brief glance of the older boy's eyes and saw the perviously accommodating store owner staring.
Not frowning, or politely disapproving, not turning away in a typical Japanese 'say nothing' embarrassment, but staring out right gawking maybe.
Well what did he expect? This wasn't a goddamn shoujo manga.
Tezuka didn't like having the audience, and Ryoma ... well normally Ryoma agreed, but in this case he really found the idea of pushing things even further in front of such a shocked and aghast witness really amusing.
But he wasn't going to do that to Tezuka, it would be rude.
The rain was beginning to let up as Ryoma expected it would. Things that started up so suddenly burned themselves out just as fast.
Somehow that seemed deeply metaphoric...
"Neh ...Buchou?"
"Hm?"
"I still want to play you while you're in Highschool."
It was Ryoma's nature to be direct, but there was a certain shyness to that approach. It would have been more straight forward to simply ask if they would continue to meet for matches once Tezuka graduated, but Ryoma was not comfortable with asking permission like that. Perhaps he just wasn't good at opening himself up that way, easier to just be aloof and indifferent about everything.
Tezuka, thankfully, was exactly the same way. For all that actually talking to him made Ryoma uncomfortable, he did understand his nature better than anyone else ever had. He knew that Ryoma wanted to keep challenging him, and that he wouldn't stop until he had surpassed him. He also knew how incredibly stubborn Ryoma could be, and that he was willing to throw the rules in anyone's face for an opportunity to play a strong opponent. Why he might even go so far as disrupting Highschool club activities for it.
He had already done so at his own school and at Ginka Jr. High, Tezuka didn't imagine Highschoolers would intimidate him any.
But they both knew that the feeling was more or less mutual too. Tezuka had his own reasons for wanting to continue to play, and they were not as straight forward or simple as Ryoma's.
"Weekends, and some holidays," was Tezuka's answer in his trademark curtness. That was okay though, Ryoma didn't need it spelled out for him.
"Okay, whatever," he grinned.
*************
Fuji realized it after the last game of their match with Hyotei. When they watched Echizen Ryoma completely dominate with a speed and endurance that seemed to defy reason. Of course it hadn't taken him long to figure out how Ryoma could hold that speed, but his awe in witnessing the match hadn't stopped once he realized that. There was something about his play that just bothered Fuji.
Ryoma has always been like a cat in his tennis style. He enjoyed playing with his opponent for a little bit before he crushed them. At times he would efficiently dispose of a challenger without much ado because he lacked the time or just the desire to stretch the match out longer than necessary. But on those occasions Ryoma always acted with an aloof air to him, and it was never during a match that was of any importance.
Typically Ryoma would provoke his opponent, let them get a few points or maybe a game or two before he turned around and defeated them. That was not what happened in the Hyotei match though. The Hyotei match lacked all of Ryoma's normal playfulness to it. He was in a word: ruthless.
In fact Fuji had seen more mercy in packs of wild, rabid dogs. Ryoma hadn't just defeated Hiyoshi, he had slaughtered him, torn out his heart and held it up proud for all to see.
There was a disturbing feeling of pride in him as he defeated Hiyoshi, something that Fuji couldn't quite understand at first. It was more than frustration from being on reserve, more than just feeling accomplished at the level he had reached. Contrary to his provoking nature and habitual cockiness, Ryoma really wasn't one to show off. It was more than feeding off the energy from the substantial crowd.
He had on occasion played with such malice himself. He had enjoyed crushing opponents before, slaughtering them in the cruelest most public way possible ... like Mizuki for example. But even Fuji didn't do that just for the hell of it, the people he had played like that were all people who had hurt someone very important to him ... and in that regard his protective instincts had always gotten the better of him.
....Oh.
Fuji looked at Tezuka, sitting ever stoically on the benchcoach seat as he had for the entire match. His arms crossed, his expression stern and perfectly focused. When it became obvious that Ryoma had to play they had barely spoken more than a few words to each other, but there was something very odd about Ryoma's attitude right then as well. It were as if he was more than just inspired by Tezuka's example but had something of a personal claim in earning Tezuka's admiration.
Oh....
After that he started to pay a bit more attention to the two of them, particularly the youngest member of the team (Tezuka was never very easy to read one way or another). It was curious, well he was curious. Now that he knew he wondered how long it had been going on, how serious it was, and who else--if anyone-- had noticed it. So far it seemed like it was just him, although Fuji was fairly sure Oishi was being willfully oblivious to the entire issue and probably could have noticed if he really cared to entertain the notion. Oishi was good-natured and mannered, something like that at their age probably would have scandalized him. No doubt he was much happier pretending there was nothing to it.
It was a little difficult to believe that insightful Inui, who made it his business at calculating and predicting their personalities and subsequent behaviors, wouldn't have noticed something. Though Fuji could not detect any such awareness from Inui, who knew what telling details were scribbled down in any one of his notebooks awaiting analysis? Inui did not strike Fuji as a particularly tactful person, if he knew something he would probably have given some indication of it.
So it was just him then, and for the five months that followed his first notion of it Fuji had paid them very close attention. It was, after all, a very amusing piece of juicy gossip. Not so much because of what it was, but because who it concerned. To think that the two most antisocial people on the Tennis team had turned out to be very sociable after all.
Other than that, he was being very uncharacteristically nosy because when he thought about it for a while, Tezuka and the little 1st year prodigy together romantically .... it was just so damn cute.
**************
Ryoma hadn't lost his virginity in the storybook kind of way. For one it had been to another guy, for another it had been with his back pressed up against the wall in the changing room next to the clay courts at Haruno University, not exactly a spot frequented by amorous teenagers. These were the things that excluded the experience from the realm of bragging rights and machoism, although they really weren't what bothered Ryoma about it.
Aside from a few casual regrets, he didn't really think about it all that much.
Never before did it occur to Ryoma that a tennis match could be an aphrodisiac, but he supposed that the competitiveness, rush of self exertion and especially the excitement of both things being mutual could do that to the right people. There was something odd about the way Tezuka did things though. His movements at the time were not inherently lustful, they were just loaded with the same dramatic intensity Tezuka had in doing everything. And frustration. And desperation. But none of these things were directed specifically at him, and that was something Ryoma couldn't really figure out at first.
He provoked it. From the very beginning, from the first touch onward he provoked it. Whatever was churning inside Tezuka and had caused him to veer so far from his normal behavior, Ryoma took great care in provoking. He did this for the same reason he provoked anyone else, because he could. And because in one match Tezuka had stripped him of his well maintained continence of indifference, touched upon the person inside and challenged him to be better. It was not a challenge that Ryoma took lightly.
Although the initial kiss had been accidental on Ryoma's part. Little more than a soft sigh as Tezuka reached over for his stuff. He had no idea what possessed Tezuka to do it, but once it started Ryoma couldn't back down. He would have fought Tezuka on anything by that point; frustrated over his loss, angry at himself because he hadn't been able to figure out anything that seemed to work towards securing that trademark come back, and hurt because he felt somehow he had been defeated too easily... he would have argued anything. But Tezuka didn't want to argue, he didn't want to fight, he only wanted to kiss Ryoma once and pull away without a word.
Ryoma, when he was in a mood, could be a very irrational and contrary person. He didn't let Tezuka pull away, he provoked him further. With his lips, his teeth, with his hands and just about everything he had.
There was a moment there, where Tezuka seemed sincerely not to know what to do. A little victory that Ryoma rather selfishly and spitefully cherished before things got totally out of control.
He rather anticipated that Tezuka would back out, and rather than feeling rejected Ryoma would feel vindicated because at least in this contest he hadn't allowed himself to be dominated. He had assumed what most people who barely knew Tezuka assumed, that he was more calculating than he was emotional. So naturally, Ryoma thought, when pushed over his head he would pull back so he could maintain his controlled advantage.
Then Tezuka touched him with hands that were neither decisive nor aggressive. Modest hands, almost uncertain in their movements ... and Ryoma found he just couldn't fathom what was going on in his Captain's head. His fingers were almost shyly exploring Ryoma, finding so many sensitive parts that Ryoma hadn't imagined wanted to be touched. Anger and frustration and even his confusion were giving way to excitement and a dry overwhelming heat. He panted in Tezuka's ear and his hands gripped tightly on his shoulders. Propped up between Tezuka's body and a cold cement wall, he was only distantly aware of what a mess his own pride had gotten him into. He was wrestling with allowing things that felt so good to just keep going without a worry, and pulling back himself into a situation where he had better control.
Until it had happened of course, and by then he was too overwhelmed with excitement, confusion, pain, pleasure, regret and perhaps even a little disgust to have a reaction to it ... to tell him to stop. He literally froze up mentally, but whether that happened because of what they were doing or who was doing it he still hadn't figured out.
When he allowed himself to think about that first time, sometimes Ryoma thought that he would be spending the rest of his life making up for the childish mistakes he had made. It might have been one of those things that scarred him for life had something very peculiar not happened.
Sweaty, spent, his legs were probably cramping as well, he was clinging to Tezuka only because he didn't trust his legs not to give out once they touched the floor again. He didn't want to fall....
He was listening to the soft sounds of Tezuka trying to catch his breath, feeling almost dirty and ashamed of himself. He was too young, too unprepared for something like that... And while a billion thoughts squirmed about his head and demanded attention, Tezuka was gently lowering him to the floor. He felt his back sliding down the wall, his feet touch the ground, then he limply uncurled his arms from around Tezuka and pulled away. His emotions were in a frenzy around him, he couldn't think of a word to say, or a thought to think. Then by some chance he caught Tezuka's eye.
And three days later he thought he understood.
--| Part 1 |--
They never really dated. Because they were two boys and it never occurred to them to do anything of the kind in their time together. On occasion they'd stop off to eat somewhere and Ryoma would wily remind Tezuka that it was a senpai's duty to look after a kohai ... therefore he should pay, and normally Tezuka did little but grunt in response and order his own food. One could hardly call that a date. Even on the extremely rare occasion that Tezuka did pay for Ryoma's food, they would eat mostly in silence, with what little interaction there was being far from affectionate. When they would walk home together it had more to do with Ryoma's home and the train station happening to be in the same direction from the tennis courts, and when they parted sometimes they did so without even a wave or acknowledgment that the other person had been walking along side for so long.
They did however play an extraordinary amount of tennis together, which was enough for Tezuka to justify all the rest and certainly enough for Ryoma. Tezuka didn't like talking and Ryoma didn't really like talking to Tezuka, so things were pretty content and amicable without the decadence of a formal courtship.
With winter had come the end of Seigaku tennis club's regular practices. They were now in the off season, and club duties would move into shorter meetings to organize training menus and prepare the club to handle the difficult transition when the 3rd years graduated. A new Captain and Vice-Captain would have to be selected with a near guarantee of chaos between Momo and Kaidoh as the best candidates for Captain of the 3rd years. Ryoma might at the very least be able to keep a civil war from breaking out as Vice-Captain but as a second year it would not be appropriate for him to take on the role of Captain just yet.
"Shouldn't you be studying for exams?" Ryoma said. He didn't usually talk when they were walking, not unless he had something he absolutely wanted to say. While he enjoyed his quality Tezuka time, it was true that most of the other graduating 3rd years were spending their valuable time studying for Highschool exams. Even Fuji and Inui who seemed to excel in school quite naturally were busy preparing themselves.
"No, I've already passed and been accepted to my first choice school."
"Oh," Figures
Ryoma wasn't sure how he felt about the way the last couple of months of school were progressing, or what-- all things considered-- he was supposed to feel about it. Everyday he and Tezuka would go to the indoor tennis court not far from Seigaku and play. It's somewhere he and Tezuka separately would have ended up during the off season anyway, and the ball machine stopped being a challenge after ten or twenty minutes. So in a way it was more a marriage of convenience than anything else.
Occasionally Momo-senpai would tag along, and on even rarer occasions Fuji-senpai would join them too. But mostly it was just the two of them.
He still hadn't beaten him. It was irritating, but invigorating at the same time. He could feel like he was getting closer, just a little more, a little more improvement and then he'd be on the same level as Tezuka. He was already about even with Fuji as it was; Tezuka was a difficult hurdle, but not an impossible one. Not like his father was anyway.
Often he thought about what it would be like to watch Tezuka play his father, just to see how far he could go ... just to see Nanjiroh actually serious about something for once. He didn't think Tezuka could beat Nanjiroh, but it would be interesting to judge how big the difference in skill was and to know how far he had to go before he could make that obnoxious old man cry like the big stupid bab--
Well ... that was still a ways away, first he would have to beat Tezuka.
But one day....
He was startled out of his thoughts by the droplet of water that fell sharply on his nose and rolled down his lip. The taste of fresh rain made a worried frown curl up his face. Damnit, had that stupid old man let him see the paper he might have known to bring an umbrella with him today! But nooooo Nanjiroh had to maintain his precious cover so he could peruse his dirty magazines in peace. Really, it wasn't like anyone in the room didn't know what he was doing anyway--
....well it didn't matter now.
Ryoma gave an uncharacteristic squeak as the clouds that seemed only a little gray and innocent a few moments ago opened up and drops fell with growing frequency. Faster and faster until it was pouring down, the air heavy and wet around them.
Tezuka took off his jacket-- not his Seigaku regular jersey, the cold and the off season had retired that for the time being, but a heavier olive colored coat he had been wearing for the winter. The material on the outside was durable, light, raincoat like material, the inside lined with soft wool. It came down little past his waist with deep pockets he could shove his hands into when he walked and a plain silver colored zipper. He held it over both out their heads as a makeshift umbrella.
Ryoma looked up. A normal person would have met Ryoma's slightly surprised look and smiled some explanation that wasn't really at all necessary, but Tezuka wasn't a normal person and he didn't like doing things that didn't have a specific point to them. He did little to acknowledge Ryoma aside from tilting his head a bit so that his eyes could flicker briefly in Ryoma's direction before they went back to staring straight ahead without a word.
Ryoma sighed lightly and gave into a little smile. He moved in as close as he could without tripping Tezuka and scanned the street carefully. It was a nice gesture, but they both knew the jacket made lousy protection in a rainstorm this hard.
"There," Ryoma pointed out a store front with a large green awning.
For a moment there was no point in trying to hide under the jacket while they ran to the shelter of the awning, it would just slow them down while the rain continued to soak both of them. So it was thrown unceremoniously over Tezuka's shoulder as the two of them scrabbled down the street in the pouring rain.
The store's doorway provided a suitable shelter from the downpour, and the store owners kindly ignored the two Jr. High students loitering outside. Aside from being almost soaked, they looked pretty presentable and respectable, not the types to cause problems for their customers.
"Well, well..." Ryoma hummed, staring out at the concrete as the water pounded it in rhythmic explosions of water droplets. He was pretty wet, trails of rain water were already twisting their way down strands of his hair and his skin was flushed with a glow of ice cold rain. "How annoying."
Tezuka watched a solitary droplet of water creep down Ryoma's forehead. It was small, no larger than the size of a tear, but its coldness was leaving the faintest trail of red down his pale skin. Without a second thought he wiped it away with his thumb, Ryoma's eyes flicker up curiously and then he smiled again.
Tezuka wasn't exactly the friendliest person Ryoma knew, but he had something about him ... something buried deep down inside of him past all the reserve, refinement and strength (and well just plain scariness) people associated with him that was very gentle and unreasonably shy. He really cared deeply about his teammates, about Seigaku, about everything that he felt it was his reasonability to care about. Everyone on Seigaku's tennis team knew this, but no one had the view quite like Ryoma's.
Ryoma straighten up a little when he felt Tezuka moving closer. He had a habit of slouching, and the height different between the two of them Ryoma found truly irritating in moments like this. He always felt like he had to stand on his tippie-toes and that just ruined the ... well the aesthetic of the experience for him. Fortunately, most of the time when their lips touched he found better distractions than being self-conscious about his height, like trying to figure out what Tezuka was thinking. His robotic, logical charm made it difficult to imagine him kissing anyone for any reason, even to Ryoma who already knew better.
With two people who could walk down the street together for at least 20 minutes without saying a single word to each other, one might find it hard to imagine any passion at all in their relationship at all. But to the contrary things always got seriously pretty fast when they kissed. Tezuka was not very expressive with his emotions, but he was honest about them, and Ryoma had a peculiar habit of getting very aggressive when he was excited and using his teeth when he kissed. What had started off as a sweet, simple gesture had gotten very intense under Ryoma's provocation.
He ran his fingers through Tezuka's hair, something he knew Tezuka liked even though he had never expressly said so, and pushed himself up as if trying break gravity and float onto an equal level with him. He liked the little start Tezuka gave when his sharp canine teeth just skimmed the edge of his lower lip. He liked when Tezuka's arms were holding him tightly in place, as if he might escape if given the chance. Those were good instincts, he thought, it would not be beyond Ryoma to tease or pull away of the last minute.
Ryoma allowed himself to look a little hurt when Tezuka pushed him gently but firmly away, until he followed the brief glance of the older boy's eyes and saw the perviously accommodating store owner staring.
Not frowning, or politely disapproving, not turning away in a typical Japanese 'say nothing' embarrassment, but staring out right gawking maybe.
Well what did he expect? This wasn't a goddamn shoujo manga.
Tezuka didn't like having the audience, and Ryoma ... well normally Ryoma agreed, but in this case he really found the idea of pushing things even further in front of such a shocked and aghast witness really amusing.
But he wasn't going to do that to Tezuka, it would be rude.
The rain was beginning to let up as Ryoma expected it would. Things that started up so suddenly burned themselves out just as fast.
Somehow that seemed deeply metaphoric...
"Neh ...Buchou?"
"Hm?"
"I still want to play you while you're in Highschool."
It was Ryoma's nature to be direct, but there was a certain shyness to that approach. It would have been more straight forward to simply ask if they would continue to meet for matches once Tezuka graduated, but Ryoma was not comfortable with asking permission like that. Perhaps he just wasn't good at opening himself up that way, easier to just be aloof and indifferent about everything.
Tezuka, thankfully, was exactly the same way. For all that actually talking to him made Ryoma uncomfortable, he did understand his nature better than anyone else ever had. He knew that Ryoma wanted to keep challenging him, and that he wouldn't stop until he had surpassed him. He also knew how incredibly stubborn Ryoma could be, and that he was willing to throw the rules in anyone's face for an opportunity to play a strong opponent. Why he might even go so far as disrupting Highschool club activities for it.
He had already done so at his own school and at Ginka Jr. High, Tezuka didn't imagine Highschoolers would intimidate him any.
But they both knew that the feeling was more or less mutual too. Tezuka had his own reasons for wanting to continue to play, and they were not as straight forward or simple as Ryoma's.
"Weekends, and some holidays," was Tezuka's answer in his trademark curtness. That was okay though, Ryoma didn't need it spelled out for him.
"Okay, whatever," he grinned.
*************
Fuji realized it after the last game of their match with Hyotei. When they watched Echizen Ryoma completely dominate with a speed and endurance that seemed to defy reason. Of course it hadn't taken him long to figure out how Ryoma could hold that speed, but his awe in witnessing the match hadn't stopped once he realized that. There was something about his play that just bothered Fuji.
Ryoma has always been like a cat in his tennis style. He enjoyed playing with his opponent for a little bit before he crushed them. At times he would efficiently dispose of a challenger without much ado because he lacked the time or just the desire to stretch the match out longer than necessary. But on those occasions Ryoma always acted with an aloof air to him, and it was never during a match that was of any importance.
Typically Ryoma would provoke his opponent, let them get a few points or maybe a game or two before he turned around and defeated them. That was not what happened in the Hyotei match though. The Hyotei match lacked all of Ryoma's normal playfulness to it. He was in a word: ruthless.
In fact Fuji had seen more mercy in packs of wild, rabid dogs. Ryoma hadn't just defeated Hiyoshi, he had slaughtered him, torn out his heart and held it up proud for all to see.
There was a disturbing feeling of pride in him as he defeated Hiyoshi, something that Fuji couldn't quite understand at first. It was more than frustration from being on reserve, more than just feeling accomplished at the level he had reached. Contrary to his provoking nature and habitual cockiness, Ryoma really wasn't one to show off. It was more than feeding off the energy from the substantial crowd.
He had on occasion played with such malice himself. He had enjoyed crushing opponents before, slaughtering them in the cruelest most public way possible ... like Mizuki for example. But even Fuji didn't do that just for the hell of it, the people he had played like that were all people who had hurt someone very important to him ... and in that regard his protective instincts had always gotten the better of him.
....Oh.
Fuji looked at Tezuka, sitting ever stoically on the benchcoach seat as he had for the entire match. His arms crossed, his expression stern and perfectly focused. When it became obvious that Ryoma had to play they had barely spoken more than a few words to each other, but there was something very odd about Ryoma's attitude right then as well. It were as if he was more than just inspired by Tezuka's example but had something of a personal claim in earning Tezuka's admiration.
Oh....
After that he started to pay a bit more attention to the two of them, particularly the youngest member of the team (Tezuka was never very easy to read one way or another). It was curious, well he was curious. Now that he knew he wondered how long it had been going on, how serious it was, and who else--if anyone-- had noticed it. So far it seemed like it was just him, although Fuji was fairly sure Oishi was being willfully oblivious to the entire issue and probably could have noticed if he really cared to entertain the notion. Oishi was good-natured and mannered, something like that at their age probably would have scandalized him. No doubt he was much happier pretending there was nothing to it.
It was a little difficult to believe that insightful Inui, who made it his business at calculating and predicting their personalities and subsequent behaviors, wouldn't have noticed something. Though Fuji could not detect any such awareness from Inui, who knew what telling details were scribbled down in any one of his notebooks awaiting analysis? Inui did not strike Fuji as a particularly tactful person, if he knew something he would probably have given some indication of it.
So it was just him then, and for the five months that followed his first notion of it Fuji had paid them very close attention. It was, after all, a very amusing piece of juicy gossip. Not so much because of what it was, but because who it concerned. To think that the two most antisocial people on the Tennis team had turned out to be very sociable after all.
Other than that, he was being very uncharacteristically nosy because when he thought about it for a while, Tezuka and the little 1st year prodigy together romantically .... it was just so damn cute.
**************
Ryoma hadn't lost his virginity in the storybook kind of way. For one it had been to another guy, for another it had been with his back pressed up against the wall in the changing room next to the clay courts at Haruno University, not exactly a spot frequented by amorous teenagers. These were the things that excluded the experience from the realm of bragging rights and machoism, although they really weren't what bothered Ryoma about it.
Aside from a few casual regrets, he didn't really think about it all that much.
Never before did it occur to Ryoma that a tennis match could be an aphrodisiac, but he supposed that the competitiveness, rush of self exertion and especially the excitement of both things being mutual could do that to the right people. There was something odd about the way Tezuka did things though. His movements at the time were not inherently lustful, they were just loaded with the same dramatic intensity Tezuka had in doing everything. And frustration. And desperation. But none of these things were directed specifically at him, and that was something Ryoma couldn't really figure out at first.
He provoked it. From the very beginning, from the first touch onward he provoked it. Whatever was churning inside Tezuka and had caused him to veer so far from his normal behavior, Ryoma took great care in provoking. He did this for the same reason he provoked anyone else, because he could. And because in one match Tezuka had stripped him of his well maintained continence of indifference, touched upon the person inside and challenged him to be better. It was not a challenge that Ryoma took lightly.
Although the initial kiss had been accidental on Ryoma's part. Little more than a soft sigh as Tezuka reached over for his stuff. He had no idea what possessed Tezuka to do it, but once it started Ryoma couldn't back down. He would have fought Tezuka on anything by that point; frustrated over his loss, angry at himself because he hadn't been able to figure out anything that seemed to work towards securing that trademark come back, and hurt because he felt somehow he had been defeated too easily... he would have argued anything. But Tezuka didn't want to argue, he didn't want to fight, he only wanted to kiss Ryoma once and pull away without a word.
Ryoma, when he was in a mood, could be a very irrational and contrary person. He didn't let Tezuka pull away, he provoked him further. With his lips, his teeth, with his hands and just about everything he had.
There was a moment there, where Tezuka seemed sincerely not to know what to do. A little victory that Ryoma rather selfishly and spitefully cherished before things got totally out of control.
He rather anticipated that Tezuka would back out, and rather than feeling rejected Ryoma would feel vindicated because at least in this contest he hadn't allowed himself to be dominated. He had assumed what most people who barely knew Tezuka assumed, that he was more calculating than he was emotional. So naturally, Ryoma thought, when pushed over his head he would pull back so he could maintain his controlled advantage.
Then Tezuka touched him with hands that were neither decisive nor aggressive. Modest hands, almost uncertain in their movements ... and Ryoma found he just couldn't fathom what was going on in his Captain's head. His fingers were almost shyly exploring Ryoma, finding so many sensitive parts that Ryoma hadn't imagined wanted to be touched. Anger and frustration and even his confusion were giving way to excitement and a dry overwhelming heat. He panted in Tezuka's ear and his hands gripped tightly on his shoulders. Propped up between Tezuka's body and a cold cement wall, he was only distantly aware of what a mess his own pride had gotten him into. He was wrestling with allowing things that felt so good to just keep going without a worry, and pulling back himself into a situation where he had better control.
Until it had happened of course, and by then he was too overwhelmed with excitement, confusion, pain, pleasure, regret and perhaps even a little disgust to have a reaction to it ... to tell him to stop. He literally froze up mentally, but whether that happened because of what they were doing or who was doing it he still hadn't figured out.
When he allowed himself to think about that first time, sometimes Ryoma thought that he would be spending the rest of his life making up for the childish mistakes he had made. It might have been one of those things that scarred him for life had something very peculiar not happened.
Sweaty, spent, his legs were probably cramping as well, he was clinging to Tezuka only because he didn't trust his legs not to give out once they touched the floor again. He didn't want to fall....
He was listening to the soft sounds of Tezuka trying to catch his breath, feeling almost dirty and ashamed of himself. He was too young, too unprepared for something like that... And while a billion thoughts squirmed about his head and demanded attention, Tezuka was gently lowering him to the floor. He felt his back sliding down the wall, his feet touch the ground, then he limply uncurled his arms from around Tezuka and pulled away. His emotions were in a frenzy around him, he couldn't think of a word to say, or a thought to think. Then by some chance he caught Tezuka's eye.
And three days later he thought he understood.