jenny's super special awesome birthday
Happy Birthday Jenny!! :D
And here are three moderately short fics severely un-betaed and kinda rambling and plotless and pointless, but it's okay! because i wrote them all to this song and this one but i like the first one better.
Bubblegum
Yanagi shows up at Yuuya's apartment at two in the morning with Ryoma's white tennis cap pulled low over his eyes.
"Yanagi," Yuuya asks sleepily. He's still trying to figure out how someone who's as cranky as Yanagi when someone wakes him up from a nap can manage to stay up all hours of the night.
"Yuuya," Yanagi murmurs from beneath the brim of the tennis cap. "I...I got a problem." Yuuya's attention snaps into focus. Yuuya examines the leg carefully; there's no sign of a limp. His eyes wander, taking stock of Yanagi's appearance. He looked fine.
"What is it," he asks at last, dreading the answer. Relapse? Complications?
"I got bubble gum in my hair," Yanagi answers, removing the cap and pointing to a pink mass of bubblegum and hair at his temple. Relief and exasperation flood through Yuuya.
"How old are you, honestly, that you come running to me at two in the morning to get bubblegum out of your hair," he asks, smiling affectionately at his friend. The gum proved more than even Yuuya, armed with peanut butter, ice, and various other home remedies could, manage. He was cursing the gum and the manufacturers. Did they have to make it so sticky? After one last desperate attack on the gum, involving a shot of Vodka and a blow dryer Yuuya threw down the comb in exasperation and flopped onto the couch next to his friend.
"I think we're going to have to cut it." Yanagi turned his puppy dog eyes on full blast. 'Please, don't cut my hair, Yuuya,' they said. He sighed. Yanagi was too persuasive for him sometimes-- most of the time. So he tackled the problem again and lo and behold three different oils and a few broken combs later Yanagi's hair was bubblegum free.
Yanagi preened himself in front of the bathroom mirror after their success, extremely pleased that they hadn‘t resorted to scissors. Yuuya watched him with an amused expression from the door. He glanced over at the clock and started when saw the red numbers 4:17 glowing at him from across the room.
“Thanks, Yuuya,” Yanagi said, stilling inspecting his hair in the mirror.
“No problem,” he answered, turning back to find Yanagi two inches away, smelling like bubblegum and soap. Yuuya swallowed, his heart thumping painfully hard and fast in his throat all of a sudden. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but he wasn’t expecting Yanagi to pull him gently into a kiss. Yanagi’s lips were soft and warm and Yuuya felt himself kissing back. He was glad Yanagi got gum in his hair.
“Yuuya,” Yanagi whispered, breaking their kiss and placing his forehead on his. “Let’s go out.” He was really, really glad Yanagi got gum in his hair.
Highlighter
“Shindou, give me back my highlighter,” Touya muttered, irritated, as he watched his orange highlighting spin round and round between Shindou’s fingers. Shindou was sprawled supine on Touya’s bed, one arm cradling his head, Touya watching him disgustedly from his desk. It was one thing for Shindou to show up out of nowhere and demand a game. It was quite another for Shindou to show up out of nowhere and demand Touya listen to him complain about his girlfriend, who was just a friend who happened to be a girl and there was nothing like that going on thank you very much, especially when his shirt was riding up a little, showing a stripe of skin and the beginning of the curve of his hipbone in a way that Touya was sure wasn’t decent.
“I don’t get it,” Shindou continued, ignoring Touya, and shifting a little so his shirt covered the tantalizing band of skin. Touya was torn between relief and disappointment. “What does she expect from me,” Shindou asked plaintively, still twirling the marker expertly between his middle and forefinger. As far as Touya could decipher Shindou, like the idiot he was, forgot girl who was not a girlfriend’s birthday. Vaguely, in the back of his mind he wondered when he had become the one Shindou ran to for advice.
“A gift, Shindou,” Touya answered with mock patience. “Chocolates were a very distinct possibility.” He closed his history book with a snap. He was never going to finish, not with Shindou holding his highlighter captive. Shindou glanced up at him questioningly, the highlighter stopped abruptly mid-twirl.
“Don’t you have to finish that?”
“I think it’s obvious that I’m not going get the chance until you leave,” he answered, folding his arms and giving Shindou his best I-will-crush-you-with-my-mentally-enhanced-Go-powers glare. Hikaru snorted; the highlighter began whirling again.
“I don’t know why you bothered going to high school anyway,” he grouched. Then changing tracks again whined, “And how was I supposed to know I was supposed to get her chocolates?”
“Forget it. Just give me back my highlighter,” growled Touya, making a grab for the marker, nearly toppling his chair in the process.
“She didn’t tell me she wanted chocolates and I’m supposed to know she wanted chocolates?”
“A card, then, Shindou, you don’t show up at a birthday part saying, ‘so where’s the grub?’ and expect to be treated well.” He swiped at the marker again, only to have it removed from his grasp at the last second.
Annoyed, and more than a little frustrated with Shindou, he made a dive toward the marker, tumbling forward when his traitorous chair decided to roll out from underneath him. He latched onto Shindou’s arm pulling them both down, ending up in a confused heap on the floor. After a few seconds of scrambling they managed to disentangle themselves.
“Touya, you okay,” Shindou asked, rubbing the back of his head, looking embarrassed.
“Fine,” he snapped tersely, snatching his highlighter back from between Shindou’s surprised fingers. He wasn’t sure why his heart was pumping a lot harder after he’d had Shindou on top of him. Three seconds he was back at his desk, his book open, highlighting indiscriminately. Later, when he looked back at the book he found long useless passages colored orange.
The room was still for about two minutes before Shindou decided to say reflectively, “Touya, you know, you’re really hot when you’re mad.”
(this one actually has a title) Surveillance
(A note discovered by Fuji when he was rummaging through Ryoma’s English journal. The note mysteriously appeared in Tezuka’s bag the next day.)
Buchou,
I’m bored. Play a game with me.
Ryoma
(An email discovered by Fuji when he accidentally found his way into Tezuka’s inbox.)
From: K_Tezuka@tennisstar.com
To: mada_mada_dane@tennisstar.com
Echizen,
You have an Algebra test Tuesday. Study.
Buchou
(The reply.)
From: mada_mada_dane@tennisstar.com
To: K_Tezuka@tennisstar.com
Buchou,
I am never going to study and you know it. Play with me.
Ryoma
From: K_Tezuka@tennisstar.com
To: mada_mada_dane@tennisstar.com
Echizen, 20 laps.
(A conversation overheard by Fuji when he was coincidently on his way to the vending machine.)
“Buchou, play with me.”
“Very well, Echizen. Remember to bring the silk tie.”
“The blue one?”
“The pink.”
(A note from Ryoma Fuji happened upon when he inadvertently knocked Tezuka’s bag over.)
Buchou,
Next time you wear the ears.
(Accidents happened less frequently after that. They got smarter.)
Data Journal Week 1
Subjects: Tezuka Kunimitsu, Echizen Ryoma
Observation Summary:
Day 1: Subjects show no signs of particular attachment in public. Fuji must be wrong.
Day 2: Tezuka watches Echizen for .75 seconds longer than any other player on the courts.
Day 3: Echizen bumped into Tezuka 3 times during practice and twice after. Tezuka did not assign laps. Strange.
Day 4: Beginning to think Fuji is right. Echizen tripped and Tezuka caught him. Gazed into each others eyes for .27 seconds. Then, broke apart. Echizen appeared flushed. Very interesting.
Day 5: Tezuka assigned 40 laps to Fuji and Kikumaru for mauling Echizen. Excessive. Jealous?
Day 6: Noticed pink silk tie in Echizen’s bag. Other data suggests that Tezuka requested it.
Day 7: Echizen is wearing a turtleneck and refused to take it off. Fuji correct.
Conclusion: Subjects have romantic attachment.
*Note to self: Pay Fuji. Lost bet.
i copied horribly. forgive me. i couldn't help myself.