Title: The Second Time
--| Part 2 |--
Ryoma walked into the men's locker room with the smallest most undetectable bounce in his stride. It had been a good day. His cousin had made his favorite breakfast, he hadn't been caught sleeping in English class, he'd gotten the last piece of cake for desert from the cafeteria come lunch time. Yes, it had been a good day and he liked good days. On days like this he was optimistic about his chances playing Tezuka. On days like this he would happily settle for making the third year blush if he could not have a victory in tennis.
Of course he hadn't been able to beat Tezuka yet and he also hadn't been able to get anywhere close to a blush out of him, but on good days he didn't pay any attention to past failures.
Ryoma looked around and frowning a little in disappointment, no Tezuka in sight. If he wasn't there when Ryoma got there he usually wasn't coming. Not that it mattered, it was still a good day and maybe Ryoma could work on perfecting a few new technique he was going to use on Tezuka next time, but then he would have much preferred to work on them while Tezuka was hitting (or attempting to at least) them back.
He had rather gotten accustomed to the company.
Then there was Fuji, sitting on one of the long bench, already changed into his tennis clothes, watching Ryoma almost as if he had been waiting for him. Ryoma doubted Tezuka had sent Fuji in his place: first because in all the times he had blown off a practice session before he had never done so, second because Tezuka .... well it wasn't that Tezuka didn't like Fuji, they were friends and he did trust Fuji with a lot of important flavors. But Tezuka always seemed very interested in keeping people, and especially Fuji, out of his private life. There was no reason in the world why Fuji would be waiting for Ryoma ... except if he was there on his own.
Yet how he knew Ryoma would be at this particular place was unclear. Sure on could responsibly assume that on any given day at any given time Ryoma would be practicing his tennis somewhere, yet Fuji obviously knew that today it would be here. That could only be possible if he new the regular schedule Ryoma and Tezuka had fallen into concerning matches. And yet, despite bringing Fuji along on occasion they had worked very hard to keep the frequency of their private matches unspoken.
"Fuji-senpai" Ryoma greeted.
"Echizen," the older boy nodded. "Fancy meeting you here."
Fuji had the two qualities that were necessary to Ryoma, he was good in tennis and he didn't irritate him. Beyond that, Ryoma really didn't care.
Although sometimes he really wished Fuji would check his creepiness at the door.
"Practicing?" Fuji asked curiously.
"Aa."
"Care for a match?"
Ryoma hesitated. It seemed clear to him that Fuji knew he was going to be coming here, which made him think Fuji had somehow become aware of his arrangement with Tezuka. This immediately made him uncomfortable ... if Fuji knew this much, how much else did he know? Only one thing was clear to Ryoma, the invitation had not been extended without a specific reason.
"Sure," Ryoma said, hoping even the slightest inflection in his voice had not given away his worries.
After a brief warm-up rally, the match began very much as Ryoma expected it to. Fuji was in many ways a midground between himself and Tezuka. How well he played against Fuji would give him a better idea of how he would have faired against Tezuka. In a way his senpais formed steps on which he planned to climb to that level that would allow him to crush his father. He had not been able to decide if he had surpassed Fuji or not.
Predictably Fuji waited until Ryoma had fallen into his deepest state of concentration before he spoke again. Despite his reputation for being a prodigy Fuji's real forte was not his physics defying counters but his skill at psychological attacks. Counters were just tennis moves. Complex, difficult tennis moves, but tennis moves all the same. What made them daunting to most normal players was the psychological placement of each move in Fuji's game. They seemed impossible, despite the fact that any shot that can be hit onto the court can be returned, and Fuji's opponents gave up mentally before they had a chance to realize all the little ways each move could be broken if only the timing was right.
Ryoma was not normally susceptible to psychological attacks from Fuji, but perceptive Fuji was good at striking at a weakness when one became available.
"Neh Echizen, do you play Tezuka a lot?"
His racket slipped just a little in his hand, the impact with the ball was off the sweet spot, and as a result his drop shot was falling short of what it should have been. Little things like that were all Fuji needed, and even as the ball brushed the net and dropped silently onto Fuji's side of the court Ryoma felt as if he'd given it all away.
"Aa," he said. No point in denying it now.
"You seem to spend a lot of time together," Fuji noted.
Ryoma shrugged, "not really."
"I think you look adorable together."
Ryoma said absolutely nothing. To be perfectly honest he wasn't entirely sure if Fuji was joking or not. Certainly that was only the type of thing that Fuji said to others.
"Thanks," the freshman replied ironically before moving to serve again.
The game proceeded with unusual fierceness, and most importantly silently. On some level Ryoma liked to imagine that he was keeping Fuji too busy to speak, but it would seem more likely later on that Fuji was instead just waiting for the perfect moment to unnerve Ryoma further.
Fifteen minutes into the last set, Fuji spoke again.
"Are you two really as serious as it looks?"
As it looks?
A brief flash of panic overtook Ryoma's thoughts. He missed one return, then another, then lost his serve. Raw and utter annoyance was the only thing that helped to him to finally overcome and win the 6th game.
What the hell did that mean?
He was not inclined to take Fuji's word for these things, but at the same time if something had given away their secret ... he wanted to know. If everyone at Seigaku suspected something was going on then Ryoma would much rather throw it out in the open and be done with it. He had attempted to keep his behavior subtle only because a look in Tezuka's eyes made him think the consequences of their relationship being public knowledge might be a little hard to deal with.
But if everyone knew already....
"What the hell did that mean?" Ryoma snorted.
"Did what mean?" Fuji 'Hmmm?' a look of sincere puzzlement on his face.
"That comment about Buchou and me..."
"Oh that."
Ryoma hated it when Fuji played it coy. In fact, he realized, he did not particularly like Fuji at all. It hadn't always been that way, of course ... he could remember a time not very long ago when he'd enjoyed the little spurring matches between them. Somewhere down the line Fuji had started bringing Ryoma's personal affairs into the mix, just a little hints of it in his looks and tiny references to this and that but it was enough to drive Ryoma crazy.
"Well I was curious, he seems so much more interested in you than the rest of us."
"Keep your curiosity to yourself," Ryoma growled and then slowly reminded himself that losing his temper would not help the situation any and apologized.
Fuji seemed both unhurt by the attack and unconcerned with the apology. He smiled softly, if he had ever stopped smiling in the first place, and spoke in a tone that seemed-- to Ryoma at least-- a tad more honest. "Echizen, can we be frank for a moment?"
Ryoma shrugged, "fine, whatever."
Then it came.
"Are you sleeping with Tezuka?"
In retrospect, Ryoma was a bit surprised how naturally and easily the answer came to him. How freely he admitted it and how it was only weeks later that it occurred to him that this free confession was not exactly what had kept convincing himself he wanted. Nevertheless,
"Yeah, once."
Fuji seemed .... sincerely surprised for lack of a better word. Although Ryoma couldn't determine right away whether he was surprised by Ryoma's free admittance for by the content of that admittance.
"Just once?"
The freshmen choked on his waterbottle. What the hell? What were he and Tezuka supposed to be carrying on like wild rabbits behind the club room or something?
"Yeeess," he hissed. For the time being keeping his temper in check had lost all strategic value. "What kind of question is that?"
Fuji chuckled, a most irritating sound for someone in Ryoma's position. "Well it's just ... I was under the impression that something like that happened between you two before Tezuka went away ... perhaps I was mistaken..."
"No, it did."
Ryoma doesn't get it.
".......saaaahhhh." Fuji looks somewhat amused by Ryoma irritated confusion. For a moment he seems unwilling to elaborate. "Well, forgive my intrusion, you caught me off guard. I just assumed you two would spend more private time together than that."
Ryoma blinked, confusion slowly growing but still far from overtaking his irritation. "What for?" he asked in earnest.
Ryoma really doesn't get it.
"Isn't that sort of an important thing, for two people in love?"
At this Ryoma frowns, he considers the question for much longer than Fuji intended him to. Fuji thought it was a pretty matter of fact statement, not one that required so much examination and debate. People who were in love ... did those kind of things. It was simply natural was it not? Regardless of gender, regardless of age, a relationship was either sexual or it was not.
"...I don't think so," Ryoma concluded, somewhat calmer and more reflective now that he was beginning to understand Fuji's thinking. "You have a relationship with someone because it suits your needs, we don't need to do that."
"And what do you need then?"
Ryoma smiled, a smile and a wild look in his eyes that he threw over his shoulder back at Fuji. "To be stronger, much stronger. And Buchou is stronger." He could also add that he needed Tezuka's admiration and respect. He didn't need just to be stronger, he needed Tezuka to see his strength and approve of it too. But he felt that there had been too much exposed to Fuji today ... and he didn't feel inclined to be totally honest anyway.
"Sort of an interesting relationship to form with those goals...." Fuji trailed off.
"Well that's the other end of it."
***************
It was inanely inappropriate in Ryoma to call Tezuka "Buchou" given their .... situation. Not that they should be on a first name basis or anything either, but "Buchou" was, in that context to say the least, a bit kinky. Of course Ryoma had grown accustomed to calling Tezuka that, if he noticed how uncomfortable it made Tezuka he probably did it for that purpose. Sometimes he just liked getting under his skin a little.
In fact it could be said that one of Ryoma's greatest highs was doing exactly what he was doing now.
They were in Tezuka's room. Homework spread about the floor, pristine neatness seeping through the walls and the corners as if trying to take over the room. Were Ryoma paying attention he probably would have thought that somehow Tezuka's room was not as traditional as he imagined, and in sharp contrast with the rest of the house.
But he was not paying attention. Rather he was too busy nibbling on Tezuka's ear and running one hand through his soft, unreasonably wavy hair.
This probably would be a more comfortable endeavor if he wasn't sitting at Tezuka's side, but then Tezuka's had pulled his knees up to his chest ... making it difficult if not impossible to attack from the front.
From this position, Ryoma couldn't really see his face and Tezuka was in the process of trying to bury it in his knees, which was almost as frustrating as it was cute. Every now and then Tezuka would make a sound, softly in the back of his throat that would let Ryoma know-- in fact-- he was still breathing. Sometimes Ryoma wasn't sure, he got so still when Ryoma went on the offensive in treasured moments like this that sometimes Ryoma couldn't help but wonder if he dosed off or passed out. Tezuka never gave him the impression that he enjoyed these moments, but than he never pushed him away, or said anything at all either. Certainly if he wanted Ryoma to stop he would not be shy about saying so.
Ryoma let one hand wonder to Tezuka's belly, stroking gently up and down with the side of his hand through the fabric of his shirt. His tactics became more gentle as he kissed sweetly down Tezuka's neck rather than biting him. Tezuka pulled his legs up a little further a let out a brief shuttered breath when touched. He rolled his head to one side ... he was coming around.
Every now and then Tezuka needed to melt his icy exterior and be touched. He was an incredibly strong individual ... perhaps Ryoma would never be able to reach such a level of determination and strength as Tezuka possessed. But inside he was also very kind, and perhaps Ryoma was the only one who really knew that inside there was also an incredible shyness. Tezuka was the type of person that only knew how to fit in one way, with responsibility and leadership. He didn't know how to be casual or relaxed around others, or how the joke around with them or tease them. He both understood people and had difficulty relating to them.
Ryoma understood, people couldn't survive with only one type of relationship. People needed, friends, lovers, rivals, followers, leaders, bitter enemies. To be happy a person didn't need one great true love, but a whole collection of people circling around them.
Inside Tezuka was lonely, he wanted to be touched but didn't know how to ask for it. He wanted to be more than an authority figure to Ryoma but he didn't know how to change that. The start of their relationship had been clumsy at best, but it had found it's own sense of balance in the end. Ryoma understood, Tezuka never had to say because somehow Ryoma seemed to understand.
Every now and then Ryoma would spend a little time better acquainting Tezuka with the nature of intimacy. Not sex, because certainly Ryoma was no expert on that, but intimacy. Sometimes it would be as simple as making the older boy smile with a joke or a story, sometime it would be as complex as walking down the street holding hands, sometimes it would be as it was now: private and somewhat overwhelming. It could be tedious on occasion, and Tezuka certainly could be frustrating when he got introvertive, but generally his buchou was a quick study and Ryoma found the task ... incredibly amusing.
Tezuka sat up a little. His shoulders rolled back (heaven forbid he slouch!), bringing his elegant neck up and the rest of his head was helpless to resist to movement. His eyes remained fugitive half closed and looking down through the floor. He was staring into space again, but then this was nothing unusual, he very rarely looked Ryoma in the eye when they were like this. When all his weakness were out in the forefront and he had little idea what to do or how to respond, he got so hesitant and shy that no one who looked in on this scene would have believed it was Tezuka. One day, Ryoma figured, he was going to grab Tezuka's face between his hands and make him look at him, but that day is not today and Ryoma still has a bit more patience left.
Eye contact was an essential part of intimacy. To read the thoughts of another human being in the expression of those orbs and to have them see yours too. It was a required element of any social relationship, no matter how casual or insignificant. Yet Tezuka's eyes were almost always kept strictly guarded. Ryoma wanted to explain that others found this unnerving, that it made him seem distant and unconcerned with those around him and added greatly to his general isolation, but one couldn't just explain things like that to Tezuka. He was a little dense in that regard.
Ryoma's fingers stroked under Tezuka's chin a little, gently turning his head toward him, but those eyes remained elusive and hidden under the edge of a row of Tezuka's fine eyelashes and the milky reflection of the overhead light on his glasses. Ryoma leaned closer, kissing Tezuka sweetly and trying to get his attention, but found when he pulled back a little Tezuka was going to be stubborn today. He still didn't want to look at him, even when his body was reaching out for Ryoma and his breath curling around at a slightly awkward pace, punctuated by a few delicately made whimpers.
Ryoma sighed and smiled just a little bit at this dilemma. Well, if Tezuka was going to be stubborn today, there's no point in trying to force the issue. He wrapped his arms around Tezuka, pulling him close and hugging him tightly before nudging them both back onto the floor. They lay side by side and Ryoma gives Tezuka his sweet and most earnest look, which Tezuka usually glances at for a moment or two.
It's like a ritual for them. It's been repeated so often now that Tezuka is not hesitant about looking at that look, because he knows exactly how it will be and exactly what Ryoma will do.
His arm tightens around Tezuka one more time, before he smiles like an innocent child and rolls over. Ryoma coaxes Tezuka's arms to come around his waist, how he does this Tezuka is not entirely sure ... it seems to be one of those uniquely Ryoma talents, and presses closer to Tezuka so that together they lie spooned on the floor.
And they will lie there in perfect silence until dinner is ready, or some other distraction requires their attention. Sometimes Tezuka will nuzzle the back of Ryoma's neck, or nibble here and there, or stroke with the back of his hand on Ryoma's side, but neither one of them ever says a word.
Give me your strength, and I'll give you mine.
***********
In his third year and Seigaku, Ryoma was made Captain of the tennis team. Now he became the player all the raising stars of Junior High tennis had their eyes on, as Tezuka has been before him.
The job was a whole lot busier than Ryoma thought it would be, he and Tezuka lost contact and ... broke up one could say since they no longer saw each other. But if one did say "broke up" it was with the same unfitting irony with which one said Tezuka and Ryoma had been "dating" in the first place. The relationship had just ended, without a fight, an incident or even a good-bye. One day it was almost like they had never had any relationship at all.
It was 5 years later that Tezuka was standing behind a corner, turning the cooking Tako-yaki balls on the griddle with the same particular devotion he had to doing everything perfectly while fellow University students chattered around him. He was aware that at least a part of that chatter was about him, mostly from girls giggling over how adorable he was. He was politely ignoring them for the most part ... but every now and then he would look up and the edge of his lips would twitch up into what could only be confused for a smile. Beyond that he didn't especially like encouraging them, but that didn't mean he couldn't humor them a little.
The University's school festival was always a big community event and the clubs all got into it with a mix of genuine excitement and a little interest in some easy fundraising. The tennis club had decided to do a Tako-yaki stand, or rather they decided not to break from the long tradition of the tennis club running a Tako-yaki stand, and in the few years that Tezuka had been studying there he had become quite skilled at cooking behind the little wooden stand. Maybe that was because he was the only club member who didn't try to pawn off the task on another club member so they could go have fun at the festival for themselves after 5 minutes. Tezuka didn't really mind this though, he had his time with his friends looking around and enjoying the festivities, he was content to just lose himself into the work.
All sorts of people came to the festival. Children of all ages could be seen running about, highschool students showed up, junior highschool students, foreign students... It was a good environment to get lost in.
He looked up to give the next person on line a curt but slightly warm welcome, only to find a surprising face looking back at him with the same steady sharp honest eyes.
Tezuka blinked owlishly. He had grown taller ... but not much taller. It seemed Echizen Ryoma was forever destined to be the short tennis master. His face had matured, but since he was still a teenager it had maintained some of those young reckless qualities that made him so charming. And his eyes..... his eyes were the same as they ever were, peering with curious fascination up at Tezuka.
"200 yen right?" Ryoma asked.
Tezuka frowned and blinked again. "Huh?" he asked.
At which Ryoma gave him a '*sigh* kids today' type look and elaborated, "it's 200 yen for one serving.... right?"
"Oh ...." right that. "Yes."
Ryoma counted out his change carefully and handed it to Tezuka, his fingers lingering a little longer in his palm than they probably should have. For a moment Tezuka wondered if Ryoma recognized him. He had thought at first 'of course he did!' because it never occurred to him that Ryoma might forget. But there was no recognition in those eyes, so maybe he had forgotten...
This made Tezuka nervous for reasons he didn't quite understand. Over the years he had picked up certain small fidgets he did whenever he was nervous, for example he was twirling the long wooden skewer in his hand, and Ryoma most have notice this because he's eyes seemed to brighten and he smiled before saying, "I'm going pro in the spring."
Tezuka understood now, Ryoma had been teasing him. He probably should have seen that coming. "Already? You're so young..."
He carefully picked out six perfectly cooked Tako-yaki balls and set them one after another on the Styrofoam tray, dipped the brush in the sauce and coated them generously before gingerly adding seaweed flakes on top.
Ryoma crinkled up his nose, "in America anyone with any skill starts playing in circuits at young as 10 and you go pro whenever you surpass the amateur level. Moving to Japan disrupted my career you know?"
He took the tray out of Tezuka's hands and moved off the line to the side of the stand where he could continue to talk as he pleased. And in those few steps it seemed to Tezuka that his whole personality shifted abruptly. He went from being as he almost also was with others, snarky a little obnoxious but generally friendly, to very serious and determined in such a brief transition in position.
"Buchou..."
Tezuka frowned at what had become Ryoma's nickname for him. He was just about to say "don't call me that" when Ryoma pushed through with the intentions that had brought him here.
"I need a trainer."
Tezuka blinked in earnest for the third time.
"I want to hire you," Ryoma added, rather firmly.
His surprise was as clear in his eyes as it was in his face. "I couldn't possibly..."
"It's a good job, pays better than any normal job you'll get right out of school. No many benefits yet because I'd just be starting out. But if all goes well--"
He was babbling, something Ryoma only did when something extremely important to him seemed to be slipping hopelessly from his grasp.
"Echizen," Tezuka put his foot down firmly. "I know nothing about that sort of thing."
Ryoma gave him a "bullshit!" look which he was probably entitled to all things considered. Tezuka was majoring in physical therapy and just a couple credits shy of his degree. Though he hadn't seriously trained in years and Ryoma might have already surpassed him in skill, he was still a talented and formidable tennis player. The only sincere flaw he had was that he had never held a job like that, which seemed to deter Ryoma little.
"You learn fast, and beside I want yo---Hey these are really good..."
He looked down in surprise at the tray of Tako-yaki in his hand, having just popped one into his mouth. Ryoma's lips twitched up into a grin and Tezuka knew there was no stopping him now. "You can cook too huh? See? You're pretty useful to have around...."
Tezuka sighed and tried to focus on what he had been doing. In five or so minutes he would for the first time pawn the end of his shift off on an underclassmen.
*************
"See? No one knows my body better than you," Ryoma grinned cunningly. He was still panting. In the after rush he was feeling very cuddly, and shamelessly abusing Tezuka for this purpose. "You have to do it."
"Aa," Tezuka said, stroking Ryoma's hair tenderly.
The first time had been in the changing room of Haruno University, pressed up against the wall and rough almost desperate and confused sex. The second time was in an empty classroom on the third floor of Tezuka's University's Humanities building while a noisy festival and mobs of people clamored on below. Maybe when the third time finally came around they would actually find a bed...
~Owari~
--| Part 2 |--
Ryoma walked into the men's locker room with the smallest most undetectable bounce in his stride. It had been a good day. His cousin had made his favorite breakfast, he hadn't been caught sleeping in English class, he'd gotten the last piece of cake for desert from the cafeteria come lunch time. Yes, it had been a good day and he liked good days. On days like this he was optimistic about his chances playing Tezuka. On days like this he would happily settle for making the third year blush if he could not have a victory in tennis.
Of course he hadn't been able to beat Tezuka yet and he also hadn't been able to get anywhere close to a blush out of him, but on good days he didn't pay any attention to past failures.
Ryoma looked around and frowning a little in disappointment, no Tezuka in sight. If he wasn't there when Ryoma got there he usually wasn't coming. Not that it mattered, it was still a good day and maybe Ryoma could work on perfecting a few new technique he was going to use on Tezuka next time, but then he would have much preferred to work on them while Tezuka was hitting (or attempting to at least) them back.
He had rather gotten accustomed to the company.
Then there was Fuji, sitting on one of the long bench, already changed into his tennis clothes, watching Ryoma almost as if he had been waiting for him. Ryoma doubted Tezuka had sent Fuji in his place: first because in all the times he had blown off a practice session before he had never done so, second because Tezuka .... well it wasn't that Tezuka didn't like Fuji, they were friends and he did trust Fuji with a lot of important flavors. But Tezuka always seemed very interested in keeping people, and especially Fuji, out of his private life. There was no reason in the world why Fuji would be waiting for Ryoma ... except if he was there on his own.
Yet how he knew Ryoma would be at this particular place was unclear. Sure on could responsibly assume that on any given day at any given time Ryoma would be practicing his tennis somewhere, yet Fuji obviously knew that today it would be here. That could only be possible if he new the regular schedule Ryoma and Tezuka had fallen into concerning matches. And yet, despite bringing Fuji along on occasion they had worked very hard to keep the frequency of their private matches unspoken.
"Fuji-senpai" Ryoma greeted.
"Echizen," the older boy nodded. "Fancy meeting you here."
Fuji had the two qualities that were necessary to Ryoma, he was good in tennis and he didn't irritate him. Beyond that, Ryoma really didn't care.
Although sometimes he really wished Fuji would check his creepiness at the door.
"Practicing?" Fuji asked curiously.
"Aa."
"Care for a match?"
Ryoma hesitated. It seemed clear to him that Fuji knew he was going to be coming here, which made him think Fuji had somehow become aware of his arrangement with Tezuka. This immediately made him uncomfortable ... if Fuji knew this much, how much else did he know? Only one thing was clear to Ryoma, the invitation had not been extended without a specific reason.
"Sure," Ryoma said, hoping even the slightest inflection in his voice had not given away his worries.
After a brief warm-up rally, the match began very much as Ryoma expected it to. Fuji was in many ways a midground between himself and Tezuka. How well he played against Fuji would give him a better idea of how he would have faired against Tezuka. In a way his senpais formed steps on which he planned to climb to that level that would allow him to crush his father. He had not been able to decide if he had surpassed Fuji or not.
Predictably Fuji waited until Ryoma had fallen into his deepest state of concentration before he spoke again. Despite his reputation for being a prodigy Fuji's real forte was not his physics defying counters but his skill at psychological attacks. Counters were just tennis moves. Complex, difficult tennis moves, but tennis moves all the same. What made them daunting to most normal players was the psychological placement of each move in Fuji's game. They seemed impossible, despite the fact that any shot that can be hit onto the court can be returned, and Fuji's opponents gave up mentally before they had a chance to realize all the little ways each move could be broken if only the timing was right.
Ryoma was not normally susceptible to psychological attacks from Fuji, but perceptive Fuji was good at striking at a weakness when one became available.
"Neh Echizen, do you play Tezuka a lot?"
His racket slipped just a little in his hand, the impact with the ball was off the sweet spot, and as a result his drop shot was falling short of what it should have been. Little things like that were all Fuji needed, and even as the ball brushed the net and dropped silently onto Fuji's side of the court Ryoma felt as if he'd given it all away.
"Aa," he said. No point in denying it now.
"You seem to spend a lot of time together," Fuji noted.
Ryoma shrugged, "not really."
"I think you look adorable together."
Ryoma said absolutely nothing. To be perfectly honest he wasn't entirely sure if Fuji was joking or not. Certainly that was only the type of thing that Fuji said to others.
"Thanks," the freshman replied ironically before moving to serve again.
The game proceeded with unusual fierceness, and most importantly silently. On some level Ryoma liked to imagine that he was keeping Fuji too busy to speak, but it would seem more likely later on that Fuji was instead just waiting for the perfect moment to unnerve Ryoma further.
Fifteen minutes into the last set, Fuji spoke again.
"Are you two really as serious as it looks?"
As it looks?
A brief flash of panic overtook Ryoma's thoughts. He missed one return, then another, then lost his serve. Raw and utter annoyance was the only thing that helped to him to finally overcome and win the 6th game.
What the hell did that mean?
He was not inclined to take Fuji's word for these things, but at the same time if something had given away their secret ... he wanted to know. If everyone at Seigaku suspected something was going on then Ryoma would much rather throw it out in the open and be done with it. He had attempted to keep his behavior subtle only because a look in Tezuka's eyes made him think the consequences of their relationship being public knowledge might be a little hard to deal with.
But if everyone knew already....
"What the hell did that mean?" Ryoma snorted.
"Did what mean?" Fuji 'Hmmm?' a look of sincere puzzlement on his face.
"That comment about Buchou and me..."
"Oh that."
Ryoma hated it when Fuji played it coy. In fact, he realized, he did not particularly like Fuji at all. It hadn't always been that way, of course ... he could remember a time not very long ago when he'd enjoyed the little spurring matches between them. Somewhere down the line Fuji had started bringing Ryoma's personal affairs into the mix, just a little hints of it in his looks and tiny references to this and that but it was enough to drive Ryoma crazy.
"Well I was curious, he seems so much more interested in you than the rest of us."
"Keep your curiosity to yourself," Ryoma growled and then slowly reminded himself that losing his temper would not help the situation any and apologized.
Fuji seemed both unhurt by the attack and unconcerned with the apology. He smiled softly, if he had ever stopped smiling in the first place, and spoke in a tone that seemed-- to Ryoma at least-- a tad more honest. "Echizen, can we be frank for a moment?"
Ryoma shrugged, "fine, whatever."
Then it came.
"Are you sleeping with Tezuka?"
In retrospect, Ryoma was a bit surprised how naturally and easily the answer came to him. How freely he admitted it and how it was only weeks later that it occurred to him that this free confession was not exactly what had kept convincing himself he wanted. Nevertheless,
"Yeah, once."
Fuji seemed .... sincerely surprised for lack of a better word. Although Ryoma couldn't determine right away whether he was surprised by Ryoma's free admittance for by the content of that admittance.
"Just once?"
The freshmen choked on his waterbottle. What the hell? What were he and Tezuka supposed to be carrying on like wild rabbits behind the club room or something?
"Yeeess," he hissed. For the time being keeping his temper in check had lost all strategic value. "What kind of question is that?"
Fuji chuckled, a most irritating sound for someone in Ryoma's position. "Well it's just ... I was under the impression that something like that happened between you two before Tezuka went away ... perhaps I was mistaken..."
"No, it did."
Ryoma doesn't get it.
".......saaaahhhh." Fuji looks somewhat amused by Ryoma irritated confusion. For a moment he seems unwilling to elaborate. "Well, forgive my intrusion, you caught me off guard. I just assumed you two would spend more private time together than that."
Ryoma blinked, confusion slowly growing but still far from overtaking his irritation. "What for?" he asked in earnest.
Ryoma really doesn't get it.
"Isn't that sort of an important thing, for two people in love?"
At this Ryoma frowns, he considers the question for much longer than Fuji intended him to. Fuji thought it was a pretty matter of fact statement, not one that required so much examination and debate. People who were in love ... did those kind of things. It was simply natural was it not? Regardless of gender, regardless of age, a relationship was either sexual or it was not.
"...I don't think so," Ryoma concluded, somewhat calmer and more reflective now that he was beginning to understand Fuji's thinking. "You have a relationship with someone because it suits your needs, we don't need to do that."
"And what do you need then?"
Ryoma smiled, a smile and a wild look in his eyes that he threw over his shoulder back at Fuji. "To be stronger, much stronger. And Buchou is stronger." He could also add that he needed Tezuka's admiration and respect. He didn't need just to be stronger, he needed Tezuka to see his strength and approve of it too. But he felt that there had been too much exposed to Fuji today ... and he didn't feel inclined to be totally honest anyway.
"Sort of an interesting relationship to form with those goals...." Fuji trailed off.
"Well that's the other end of it."
***************
It was inanely inappropriate in Ryoma to call Tezuka "Buchou" given their .... situation. Not that they should be on a first name basis or anything either, but "Buchou" was, in that context to say the least, a bit kinky. Of course Ryoma had grown accustomed to calling Tezuka that, if he noticed how uncomfortable it made Tezuka he probably did it for that purpose. Sometimes he just liked getting under his skin a little.
In fact it could be said that one of Ryoma's greatest highs was doing exactly what he was doing now.
They were in Tezuka's room. Homework spread about the floor, pristine neatness seeping through the walls and the corners as if trying to take over the room. Were Ryoma paying attention he probably would have thought that somehow Tezuka's room was not as traditional as he imagined, and in sharp contrast with the rest of the house.
But he was not paying attention. Rather he was too busy nibbling on Tezuka's ear and running one hand through his soft, unreasonably wavy hair.
This probably would be a more comfortable endeavor if he wasn't sitting at Tezuka's side, but then Tezuka's had pulled his knees up to his chest ... making it difficult if not impossible to attack from the front.
From this position, Ryoma couldn't really see his face and Tezuka was in the process of trying to bury it in his knees, which was almost as frustrating as it was cute. Every now and then Tezuka would make a sound, softly in the back of his throat that would let Ryoma know-- in fact-- he was still breathing. Sometimes Ryoma wasn't sure, he got so still when Ryoma went on the offensive in treasured moments like this that sometimes Ryoma couldn't help but wonder if he dosed off or passed out. Tezuka never gave him the impression that he enjoyed these moments, but than he never pushed him away, or said anything at all either. Certainly if he wanted Ryoma to stop he would not be shy about saying so.
Ryoma let one hand wonder to Tezuka's belly, stroking gently up and down with the side of his hand through the fabric of his shirt. His tactics became more gentle as he kissed sweetly down Tezuka's neck rather than biting him. Tezuka pulled his legs up a little further a let out a brief shuttered breath when touched. He rolled his head to one side ... he was coming around.
Every now and then Tezuka needed to melt his icy exterior and be touched. He was an incredibly strong individual ... perhaps Ryoma would never be able to reach such a level of determination and strength as Tezuka possessed. But inside he was also very kind, and perhaps Ryoma was the only one who really knew that inside there was also an incredible shyness. Tezuka was the type of person that only knew how to fit in one way, with responsibility and leadership. He didn't know how to be casual or relaxed around others, or how the joke around with them or tease them. He both understood people and had difficulty relating to them.
Ryoma understood, people couldn't survive with only one type of relationship. People needed, friends, lovers, rivals, followers, leaders, bitter enemies. To be happy a person didn't need one great true love, but a whole collection of people circling around them.
Inside Tezuka was lonely, he wanted to be touched but didn't know how to ask for it. He wanted to be more than an authority figure to Ryoma but he didn't know how to change that. The start of their relationship had been clumsy at best, but it had found it's own sense of balance in the end. Ryoma understood, Tezuka never had to say because somehow Ryoma seemed to understand.
Every now and then Ryoma would spend a little time better acquainting Tezuka with the nature of intimacy. Not sex, because certainly Ryoma was no expert on that, but intimacy. Sometimes it would be as simple as making the older boy smile with a joke or a story, sometime it would be as complex as walking down the street holding hands, sometimes it would be as it was now: private and somewhat overwhelming. It could be tedious on occasion, and Tezuka certainly could be frustrating when he got introvertive, but generally his buchou was a quick study and Ryoma found the task ... incredibly amusing.
Tezuka sat up a little. His shoulders rolled back (heaven forbid he slouch!), bringing his elegant neck up and the rest of his head was helpless to resist to movement. His eyes remained fugitive half closed and looking down through the floor. He was staring into space again, but then this was nothing unusual, he very rarely looked Ryoma in the eye when they were like this. When all his weakness were out in the forefront and he had little idea what to do or how to respond, he got so hesitant and shy that no one who looked in on this scene would have believed it was Tezuka. One day, Ryoma figured, he was going to grab Tezuka's face between his hands and make him look at him, but that day is not today and Ryoma still has a bit more patience left.
Eye contact was an essential part of intimacy. To read the thoughts of another human being in the expression of those orbs and to have them see yours too. It was a required element of any social relationship, no matter how casual or insignificant. Yet Tezuka's eyes were almost always kept strictly guarded. Ryoma wanted to explain that others found this unnerving, that it made him seem distant and unconcerned with those around him and added greatly to his general isolation, but one couldn't just explain things like that to Tezuka. He was a little dense in that regard.
Ryoma's fingers stroked under Tezuka's chin a little, gently turning his head toward him, but those eyes remained elusive and hidden under the edge of a row of Tezuka's fine eyelashes and the milky reflection of the overhead light on his glasses. Ryoma leaned closer, kissing Tezuka sweetly and trying to get his attention, but found when he pulled back a little Tezuka was going to be stubborn today. He still didn't want to look at him, even when his body was reaching out for Ryoma and his breath curling around at a slightly awkward pace, punctuated by a few delicately made whimpers.
Ryoma sighed and smiled just a little bit at this dilemma. Well, if Tezuka was going to be stubborn today, there's no point in trying to force the issue. He wrapped his arms around Tezuka, pulling him close and hugging him tightly before nudging them both back onto the floor. They lay side by side and Ryoma gives Tezuka his sweet and most earnest look, which Tezuka usually glances at for a moment or two.
It's like a ritual for them. It's been repeated so often now that Tezuka is not hesitant about looking at that look, because he knows exactly how it will be and exactly what Ryoma will do.
His arm tightens around Tezuka one more time, before he smiles like an innocent child and rolls over. Ryoma coaxes Tezuka's arms to come around his waist, how he does this Tezuka is not entirely sure ... it seems to be one of those uniquely Ryoma talents, and presses closer to Tezuka so that together they lie spooned on the floor.
And they will lie there in perfect silence until dinner is ready, or some other distraction requires their attention. Sometimes Tezuka will nuzzle the back of Ryoma's neck, or nibble here and there, or stroke with the back of his hand on Ryoma's side, but neither one of them ever says a word.
Give me your strength, and I'll give you mine.
***********
In his third year and Seigaku, Ryoma was made Captain of the tennis team. Now he became the player all the raising stars of Junior High tennis had their eyes on, as Tezuka has been before him.
The job was a whole lot busier than Ryoma thought it would be, he and Tezuka lost contact and ... broke up one could say since they no longer saw each other. But if one did say "broke up" it was with the same unfitting irony with which one said Tezuka and Ryoma had been "dating" in the first place. The relationship had just ended, without a fight, an incident or even a good-bye. One day it was almost like they had never had any relationship at all.
It was 5 years later that Tezuka was standing behind a corner, turning the cooking Tako-yaki balls on the griddle with the same particular devotion he had to doing everything perfectly while fellow University students chattered around him. He was aware that at least a part of that chatter was about him, mostly from girls giggling over how adorable he was. He was politely ignoring them for the most part ... but every now and then he would look up and the edge of his lips would twitch up into what could only be confused for a smile. Beyond that he didn't especially like encouraging them, but that didn't mean he couldn't humor them a little.
The University's school festival was always a big community event and the clubs all got into it with a mix of genuine excitement and a little interest in some easy fundraising. The tennis club had decided to do a Tako-yaki stand, or rather they decided not to break from the long tradition of the tennis club running a Tako-yaki stand, and in the few years that Tezuka had been studying there he had become quite skilled at cooking behind the little wooden stand. Maybe that was because he was the only club member who didn't try to pawn off the task on another club member so they could go have fun at the festival for themselves after 5 minutes. Tezuka didn't really mind this though, he had his time with his friends looking around and enjoying the festivities, he was content to just lose himself into the work.
All sorts of people came to the festival. Children of all ages could be seen running about, highschool students showed up, junior highschool students, foreign students... It was a good environment to get lost in.
He looked up to give the next person on line a curt but slightly warm welcome, only to find a surprising face looking back at him with the same steady sharp honest eyes.
Tezuka blinked owlishly. He had grown taller ... but not much taller. It seemed Echizen Ryoma was forever destined to be the short tennis master. His face had matured, but since he was still a teenager it had maintained some of those young reckless qualities that made him so charming. And his eyes..... his eyes were the same as they ever were, peering with curious fascination up at Tezuka.
"200 yen right?" Ryoma asked.
Tezuka frowned and blinked again. "Huh?" he asked.
At which Ryoma gave him a '*sigh* kids today' type look and elaborated, "it's 200 yen for one serving.... right?"
"Oh ...." right that. "Yes."
Ryoma counted out his change carefully and handed it to Tezuka, his fingers lingering a little longer in his palm than they probably should have. For a moment Tezuka wondered if Ryoma recognized him. He had thought at first 'of course he did!' because it never occurred to him that Ryoma might forget. But there was no recognition in those eyes, so maybe he had forgotten...
This made Tezuka nervous for reasons he didn't quite understand. Over the years he had picked up certain small fidgets he did whenever he was nervous, for example he was twirling the long wooden skewer in his hand, and Ryoma most have notice this because he's eyes seemed to brighten and he smiled before saying, "I'm going pro in the spring."
Tezuka understood now, Ryoma had been teasing him. He probably should have seen that coming. "Already? You're so young..."
He carefully picked out six perfectly cooked Tako-yaki balls and set them one after another on the Styrofoam tray, dipped the brush in the sauce and coated them generously before gingerly adding seaweed flakes on top.
Ryoma crinkled up his nose, "in America anyone with any skill starts playing in circuits at young as 10 and you go pro whenever you surpass the amateur level. Moving to Japan disrupted my career you know?"
He took the tray out of Tezuka's hands and moved off the line to the side of the stand where he could continue to talk as he pleased. And in those few steps it seemed to Tezuka that his whole personality shifted abruptly. He went from being as he almost also was with others, snarky a little obnoxious but generally friendly, to very serious and determined in such a brief transition in position.
"Buchou..."
Tezuka frowned at what had become Ryoma's nickname for him. He was just about to say "don't call me that" when Ryoma pushed through with the intentions that had brought him here.
"I need a trainer."
Tezuka blinked in earnest for the third time.
"I want to hire you," Ryoma added, rather firmly.
His surprise was as clear in his eyes as it was in his face. "I couldn't possibly..."
"It's a good job, pays better than any normal job you'll get right out of school. No many benefits yet because I'd just be starting out. But if all goes well--"
He was babbling, something Ryoma only did when something extremely important to him seemed to be slipping hopelessly from his grasp.
"Echizen," Tezuka put his foot down firmly. "I know nothing about that sort of thing."
Ryoma gave him a "bullshit!" look which he was probably entitled to all things considered. Tezuka was majoring in physical therapy and just a couple credits shy of his degree. Though he hadn't seriously trained in years and Ryoma might have already surpassed him in skill, he was still a talented and formidable tennis player. The only sincere flaw he had was that he had never held a job like that, which seemed to deter Ryoma little.
"You learn fast, and beside I want yo---Hey these are really good..."
He looked down in surprise at the tray of Tako-yaki in his hand, having just popped one into his mouth. Ryoma's lips twitched up into a grin and Tezuka knew there was no stopping him now. "You can cook too huh? See? You're pretty useful to have around...."
Tezuka sighed and tried to focus on what he had been doing. In five or so minutes he would for the first time pawn the end of his shift off on an underclassmen.
*************
"See? No one knows my body better than you," Ryoma grinned cunningly. He was still panting. In the after rush he was feeling very cuddly, and shamelessly abusing Tezuka for this purpose. "You have to do it."
"Aa," Tezuka said, stroking Ryoma's hair tenderly.
The first time had been in the changing room of Haruno University, pressed up against the wall and rough almost desperate and confused sex. The second time was in an empty classroom on the third floor of Tezuka's University's Humanities building while a noisy festival and mobs of people clamored on below. Maybe when the third time finally came around they would actually find a bed...
~Owari~