I've been obsessed with this little plot bunny all weekend. I blame the
French Open completely, and the irresistible idea of Seigaku sitting
around watching tennis together. There was way more to be done with
this idea, but I'm so in love with Tezuka and Ryoma that the priority
became THEY MUST CUDDLE. And so we have it.
By: Aja (bookshop
Length: 830 words.
Pairings: Tezuka/Ryoma + the usual Seigaku pairings (implied). Game-Set.
all gathered around the huge flatscreen television Echizen Nanjiroh has
just installed, complete with surround sound. Federer is down by a set,
and half the Regulars are screaming at him to make a comeback. The
other half, namely Tezuka, Fuji, Inui, and Ryoma, are thoughtful, and
except for Inui's occasional comments about the angles of shots and
velocity of power serves on clay, none of them have broken the
rhythmical arguing of the others by so much as a murmur.
can determine the exact moment when Ryoma gives the game up for lost;
Federer has just lost his second service point of the third set, and
Ryoma's attention suddenly shifts: he yawns abruptly, uncurls his arms
in a lazy stretch, and just as neatly folds himself up again, curling
into Tezuka's side on the couch.
Several things immediately
occur to Tezuka. The first is how very warm Ryoma is, and how he
manages to make a very small amount of actual contact--his shoulder and
chin against Tezuka's ribcage--feel like miles and miles of skin
against skin, flush and and comfortable. The second is that no one has
noticed yet, and so he has an opportunity to pull away; that he should
pull away. He should bring this to a halt immediately, before it has a chance to begin. He is Ryoma's captain, only
his captain; and furthermore, Ryoma ought to be paying attention to
this game, because who knows how soon it will be him playing this sort
of match against Federer, grinding out impossible shots and stunning
All of these very rational thoughts are followed by
the further reflection that if he moves away, Ryoma will surely get
cold. Tezuka hesitates, torn with indecision.
At that precise moment, two things happen:
1) Ryoma sighs a contented little sigh, scoots closer to Tezuka, and closes his eyes.
Fuji glances over his shoulder where he has been glued to the screen,
sees them, and freezes for a long moment before sending Tezuka a smile
and resuming his silent observation of the match.
another moment for the others to begin catching on. The first is Taka,
who glances over, sees them, and blushes before smiling at Tezuka and
moving a bit closer to Fuji on the divan they are sharing. At
commercial break, Kikumaru turns around and does a doubletake, his
mouth dropping in a quick 'O' of surprise. Then he nudges Oishi with
his elbow. Oishi turns around and slowly reacts with surprise, then
worry, before Kikumaru's giggle beside him causes him to visibly relax.
Tezuka thinks he should feel more uncomfortable than he does under the
circumstances. Beside him, however, Ryoma is completely at ease, and as
Tezuka looks down at him, it occurs to him to wonder why he should not
be so too.
Oishi and Kikumaru beam at him, together, and then
Kikumaru dips his head and tucks it against Oishi's shoulder. Beside
him, Ryoma shifts and nudges Tezuka gently, then drops his head and
rests it against Tezuka's thigh. Tezuka supposes his leg must make a
better pillow, after all, and having Ryoma stretched out beside him is
far more comfortable than having Ryoma's forehead pressed against his
shoulder. He lifts his arm and lets it drop tentatively across Ryoma's
Inui's eyebrows shoot up from behind his glasses when he
notices, but he only beams knowingly, and doesn't so much as reach for
his notebook. Tezuka suspects this is because Fuji is watching, but he
appreciates the gesture anyway.
Nadal has captured his third
straight tiebreak point when Momoshiro finally looks back over his
shoulder. "Hey, Echizen!" he barks. "Wake up, you're missing the game."
turns and follows Momoshiro's gaze. His eyes widen, and he growls,
"He's fine, moron," to Momoshiro. The tone of his voice has an
immediate effect on Momoshiro, whose own gaze finally lands on Tezuka.
His expression goes blank for a moment, clearly registering the fact
that Ryoma's head is in Tezuka's lap
, before his face suddenly clears.
he says. Another moment, then he grins broadly at Tezuka and turns and
looks at Kaidoh. "Hey, Viper," he says, still smiling. "Today's a good
match, isn't it."
Kaidoh only responds, "Idiot," and punches him lightly on the shoulder.
the fourth set, the arguing has subsided, and no one is questioning who
ought to win or who will win. Karupin the Cat has climbed onto the
couch and claimed Tezuka's other leg for himself. Tezuka has tucked the
nearest afghan around Ryoma's thin frame, and Ryoma has curled into him
even more, black hair spilling like ink over Tezuka's fingers where
they curve gently around Ryoma's shoulder.
Federer has lost the
French Open to Nadal, and Tezuka can't even bother himself to reprimand
Ryoma for missing the match when at last he opens his eyes and smiles
sleepily up at him.
It is, Tezuka thinks fondly, a day for upsets.