[one-shot]
Title: Suspension
Author:
nis_chan
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: PG
Genre: umm...angst/romance?
Pairing: Ryocest (Echizen Ryoga / Echizen Ryoma)
Summary: Growing up is hard enough.
Note/Disclaimer: My first PoT fic. I don't own the characters. Lyrics from TBS and Mae, don't sue!! ;_;
Cross-posted:
orangexponta and
potfics
//
Am I alone in this?
Ryoma looked up at a tree in the backyard. The last brown leaf was hanging onto the branch and he wondered why it was trying so hard when it was already dead, and anyway the next wind... it lifted into the sky, rising and twisting helplessly. Ryoma hated this season, this transition to winter; he still hadn't gotten used to the sudden cold air, the leaves that rustled and disintegrated under his feet. He didn't want to rake them, but he was being forced.
He let the rake fall onto the tennis court with a clank when he heard the bell ring, and went to go answer the door. A tall man was at the doorway. He had a dusty gray uniform and a baseball cap that shielded most of his face. Ryoma said nothing as he waited for him to speak.
"I'm the plumber," the man said, and because of the disbelieving look on Ryoma gave him, he showed him his black carrying case full of plumbing equipment.
"I don't remember requesting a plumber," Ryoma answered briskly. He was barely keeping the door open.
"Your parents must have asked for one, kiddo."
"Che." Ryoma looked down and saw how dirty the sneakers were. "You've been playing tennis," he stated after the observation. He watched the man's fist clench and smiled a little.
"I don't play tennis. I'm a plumber. I have to go fix the toilet in the second floor bathroom."
Ryoma felt the persistence and sighed. "Fine, suit yourself." He opened the door wider to let the stranger in. "Remember to take your shoes off," he warned. Closing the door, he headed out to the backyard to continue raking the dead leaves, not caring to check if the man would do what he told him to.
//
You're coming over unannounced
The sundial read four o'clock when the leaves were neatly piled and Ryoma burned them, watching the black ash contaminate the air. When it was over, he went inside for a drink. He carried a Ponta can up to the second floor and leaned against the opened door of the bathroom. He found him there on his knees, bent over to fix the toilet.
"Ehh? You're sure being serious." Ryoma commented, pointing to the evident grime on the man's hands. He popped open a can and quickly chugged down two gulps. "If you wanted to visit me, you could've just come like a normal person."
The man got up, dropped his tools on the tiled floor and stole the can from Ryoma's hands. "I'm not here to see you. I'm the plumber-- I'm only here to see the toilet."
Ryoma's lip twitched.
"This tastes awful. I have no idea why you still drink it. Citrus tastes better." He washed his hands at the sink and finished the rest of the Ponta, throwing it into the trash. "Come on, let's go outside," he said enthusiastically, and Ryoma had wanted to sleep, but he followed.
//
The season has changed, remember
"We don't have any orange trees here," Ryoma announces as they idly examine the backyard.
"I notice that, chibisuke."
Ryoma flushes and looks away. They sit together on the bench by the private tennis court.
"You came at a bad time. Oyaji isn't here today. Neither are Okaasan and Nanako."
"Ehh? Nani?! How am I going to get paid?"
Ryoma's eyes dull. "Baka."
He grins. "Where's your tennis racket?" He asks, pointing to the empty shoulder.
"It's in my room." Ryoma glances at him. "Ne, Ryoga, is it that you wanted to play against me?"
"Not yet. I'm still tired from when you beat me." He rises from his seat. "Come on, let's go upstairs. I want to see your room..!"
//
This is what living like this does
Ryoga lies down on the bed as if it is his own and it's familiar, patting the pillow before resting his head upon it. Ryoma watches the eyelashes flutter before the eyelids close. Ryoma twitches when he starts snoring loudly. After a moment, he stops snoring, opens his eyes, and suddenly sits up while clutching the blue covers.
"What is it?" He asks.
"Your bed... isn't very comfortable." He tosses and turns.
"...Whatever." Ryoma relaxes back into his chair, returning to his Algebra homework. "You're just not used to it." The silence makes him glance back at Ryoga, who is blinking at him expectantly. "What do you want now?"
Ryoga pats the empty space next to him. "Come here."
"Iyada," Ryoma answers. "I'm not four and you're not twelve anymore."
"So?"
"So... it's different."
"How so?"
He frowns. "It just is. How can you not know, you're eighteen, and that's old. You should know."
"I guess you're right. You've gotten so serious, ne? You're not even a teenager yet, chibisuke, and.." Ryoga trails off. "Hey, but if you sleep here, I'll definitely come visit you again, and not the toilet this time."
Ryoma stares at the blank loose leaf in front of him. "I don't like that kind of promise." He thinks, I have to finish this, but with his next thought he gets up from the desk and approaches the bed.
"I wasn't promising.." His hands reach out to grip the small waist that feels cold and tired.
"You were promising.."
Ryoma's breathing pattern alters as he falls onto the mattress. He shivers when their bodies touch, and he's nervous because it doesn't really feel like they're strangers.
"I'm still angry...," he whispers and Ryoga feels the breath on the skin of his neck, with every emotion that's gotten stale between them.
//
There's still one thing I can do nothing about.
Author:
nis_chan
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: PG
Genre: umm...angst/romance?
Pairing: Ryocest (Echizen Ryoga / Echizen Ryoma)
Summary: Growing up is hard enough.
Note/Disclaimer: My first PoT fic. I don't own the characters. Lyrics from TBS and Mae, don't sue!! ;_;
Cross-posted:
orangexponta and
potfics
//
Am I alone in this?
Ryoma looked up at a tree in the backyard. The last brown leaf was hanging onto the branch and he wondered why it was trying so hard when it was already dead, and anyway the next wind... it lifted into the sky, rising and twisting helplessly. Ryoma hated this season, this transition to winter; he still hadn't gotten used to the sudden cold air, the leaves that rustled and disintegrated under his feet. He didn't want to rake them, but he was being forced.
He let the rake fall onto the tennis court with a clank when he heard the bell ring, and went to go answer the door. A tall man was at the doorway. He had a dusty gray uniform and a baseball cap that shielded most of his face. Ryoma said nothing as he waited for him to speak.
"I'm the plumber," the man said, and because of the disbelieving look on Ryoma gave him, he showed him his black carrying case full of plumbing equipment.
"I don't remember requesting a plumber," Ryoma answered briskly. He was barely keeping the door open.
"Your parents must have asked for one, kiddo."
"Che." Ryoma looked down and saw how dirty the sneakers were. "You've been playing tennis," he stated after the observation. He watched the man's fist clench and smiled a little.
"I don't play tennis. I'm a plumber. I have to go fix the toilet in the second floor bathroom."
Ryoma felt the persistence and sighed. "Fine, suit yourself." He opened the door wider to let the stranger in. "Remember to take your shoes off," he warned. Closing the door, he headed out to the backyard to continue raking the dead leaves, not caring to check if the man would do what he told him to.
//
You're coming over unannounced
The sundial read four o'clock when the leaves were neatly piled and Ryoma burned them, watching the black ash contaminate the air. When it was over, he went inside for a drink. He carried a Ponta can up to the second floor and leaned against the opened door of the bathroom. He found him there on his knees, bent over to fix the toilet.
"Ehh? You're sure being serious." Ryoma commented, pointing to the evident grime on the man's hands. He popped open a can and quickly chugged down two gulps. "If you wanted to visit me, you could've just come like a normal person."
The man got up, dropped his tools on the tiled floor and stole the can from Ryoma's hands. "I'm not here to see you. I'm the plumber-- I'm only here to see the toilet."
Ryoma's lip twitched.
"This tastes awful. I have no idea why you still drink it. Citrus tastes better." He washed his hands at the sink and finished the rest of the Ponta, throwing it into the trash. "Come on, let's go outside," he said enthusiastically, and Ryoma had wanted to sleep, but he followed.
//
The season has changed, remember
"We don't have any orange trees here," Ryoma announces as they idly examine the backyard.
"I notice that, chibisuke."
Ryoma flushes and looks away. They sit together on the bench by the private tennis court.
"You came at a bad time. Oyaji isn't here today. Neither are Okaasan and Nanako."
"Ehh? Nani?! How am I going to get paid?"
Ryoma's eyes dull. "Baka."
He grins. "Where's your tennis racket?" He asks, pointing to the empty shoulder.
"It's in my room." Ryoma glances at him. "Ne, Ryoga, is it that you wanted to play against me?"
"Not yet. I'm still tired from when you beat me." He rises from his seat. "Come on, let's go upstairs. I want to see your room..!"
//
This is what living like this does
Ryoga lies down on the bed as if it is his own and it's familiar, patting the pillow before resting his head upon it. Ryoma watches the eyelashes flutter before the eyelids close. Ryoma twitches when he starts snoring loudly. After a moment, he stops snoring, opens his eyes, and suddenly sits up while clutching the blue covers.
"What is it?" He asks.
"Your bed... isn't very comfortable." He tosses and turns.
"...Whatever." Ryoma relaxes back into his chair, returning to his Algebra homework. "You're just not used to it." The silence makes him glance back at Ryoga, who is blinking at him expectantly. "What do you want now?"
Ryoga pats the empty space next to him. "Come here."
"Iyada," Ryoma answers. "I'm not four and you're not twelve anymore."
"So?"
"So... it's different."
"How so?"
He frowns. "It just is. How can you not know, you're eighteen, and that's old. You should know."
"I guess you're right. You've gotten so serious, ne? You're not even a teenager yet, chibisuke, and.." Ryoga trails off. "Hey, but if you sleep here, I'll definitely come visit you again, and not the toilet this time."
Ryoma stares at the blank loose leaf in front of him. "I don't like that kind of promise." He thinks, I have to finish this, but with his next thought he gets up from the desk and approaches the bed.
"I wasn't promising.." His hands reach out to grip the small waist that feels cold and tired.
"You were promising.."
Ryoma's breathing pattern alters as he falls onto the mattress. He shivers when their bodies touch, and he's nervous because it doesn't really feel like they're strangers.
"I'm still angry...," he whispers and Ryoga feels the breath on the skin of his neck, with every emotion that's gotten stale between them.
//
There's still one thing I can do nothing about.