Prince of Tennis: Unromantic
And now more stuff that's totally already been posted on fanfiction.net! Except, you know, more edited. Ish.
Title: Unromantic
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: TezuRyo
Disclaimer: No ownage. Shit.
Inspiration: The Easter Bunny-shaped White Day chocolate Rafi gave me, and the cookies that Penny gave me. Yum. Er. And White Day itself.
Echizen, Tezuka notices at morning practice, hasn't brought in any reciprocation chocolate for White Day.
Which is odd.
Because Tezuka knows that Echizen did receive chocolate for Valentine's Day; he knows that the Echizen Ryoma Fan Club had been in a mad rush to get the valentines to Ryoma-sama before that Tomoka girl decided to ban it. And Tezuka has the distinct feeling that Ryuzaki-sensei's granddaughter -- whose crush on Echizen is so obvious that only Echizen himself doesn't notice -- somehow gathered up the courage to give him the candy that she'd brought.
But Echizen Ryoma does not have reciprocation candy for anyone.
Tezuka doesn't think that anyone else notices it. Momo, after all, is busy moaning about how he's broke now because of all the chocolate he had to buy for this girl and that girl and that other girl, the quiet one with the nice eyes. And Kikumaru is busy making googly-eyes at Oishi, who is blushing and trying to change while shaking off the speculative stares. And Inui is busy taking notes about everything, including the nice-sized bag of candy sticking out of Kikumaru's bag, and Kaidou is busy looking terrified of the odd and ominous package in his cubby.
(Which is a gag present, Tezuka is sure of it, because Inui takes a special delight in terrorizing his kouhai.)
(Then again, maybe that's just Inui's... unique... way of showing affection.)
But Kawamura and Fuji notice. "Ne, Echizen..." Kawamura begins. "Um... You... do know what today is, don't you? March 14th?" Echizen looks up from tying his sneakers and his eyes dart from Kawamura's face to Fuji's to Tezuka's to Kawamura's again.
"March 14th...?" he repeats slowly. "Aa." There is a general sigh of relief from those who are paying attention. That's right. Echizen just isn't the type to give--
"Pi Day."
Total, utter, and complete silence.
"What?!"
--
It takes a while for the regulars to explain to Echizen that while today is, yes, Pi Day and Einstein's birthday, it is also a much greater holiday. And they entrust that task to the most capable of them all.
"White Day," Fuji says firmly. "They don't have it in America?"
"No," Echizen replies immediately, irritatedly, and sends the genius a look that says, I get it, can I leave now?
"Your parents never taught you about it?" Fuji persists.
"No."
The result is a myriad of sighs from Momoshiro, Kawamura, Kikumaru, and, most of all, Fuji, who is beginning to see that his task is very much useless.
Echizen, they are starting to realize, is hopelessly unromantic. Hopelessly clueless, too, because he doesn't seem to realize that the girls who have been eyeing him hopefully all day will be sobbing into their pillows tonight. Including Ryuzaki-sensei's granddaughter, who looked like she was on the verge of nervous tears all this morning.
Tezuka feels the beginnings of amusement stir in his lips.
--
"Ne, Buchou," says Echizen suddenly from beside the captain. Fuji, on Tezuka's right, looks curiously at the freshman.
"Hm," Tezuka responds impassively, not shifting his gaze from where Arai and Momoshiro are playing a one-sided game. Three-love in Momoshiro's favor. Arai's doing fairly well, though, and it looks like he's going to win this game, and maybe the next, if Momo doesn't stop being so careless.
"You don't have any chocolates to give either."
Tezuka shrugs. "I wasn't given any for Valentine's."
"Heeeh? None?"
Tezuka shrugs again.
"Tezuka is too unapproachable," Fuji explains slyly, his eyes sliding to Tezuka's face. The captain ignores the challenge to protest.
"The girls are afraid of him?"
"Aa. A little." Fuji gives something that is terribly alike to a smirk. "Especially on Valentine's. Your aura goes black, Tezuka."
The captain very pointedly ignores that and resists the urge to call for laps.
Echizen grin-smirks and resumes watching the Arai-Momoshiro game.
--
Tezuka knows that it is no accident that Echizen is the last one left in the clubroom with him after practice this afternoon. It is utterly obvious in the deliberating way the freshman glances at him, the way that he lingers in the lengthening shadows, taking an absurdly long time to tie his shoes, but Tezuka knows better than to ask about it.
Ryoma always gets to the point sooner or later.
"Ne, Buchou."
"Hm."
There is a slight pause. "Wanna get something to eat?"
"...Something to eat," he repeats, blinking.
"Yes."
"On White Day."
Ryoma gives him a sardonic tilt of the head and a slowly widening smirk.
"No. On Pi Day," he returns. "I'm American, remember?"
"...I see." Tezuka buttons his cuffs and shrugs on his uniform jacket. "A date, then."
Echizen pauses, then hitches his shoulder up slowly.
"Is it?" he asks, watching the captain's face intently.
"Yes," Tezuka answers decisively. "It is."
--
Maybe, Tezuka thinks as he brushes his lips against Ryoma's at the end of the night, Echizen isn't so unromantic.
Or maybe they're both so unromantic that it doesn't matter either way.
[So there.]
Title: Unromantic
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: TezuRyo
Disclaimer: No ownage. Shit.
Inspiration: The Easter Bunny-shaped White Day chocolate Rafi gave me, and the cookies that Penny gave me. Yum. Er. And White Day itself.
Echizen, Tezuka notices at morning practice, hasn't brought in any reciprocation chocolate for White Day.
Which is odd.
Because Tezuka knows that Echizen did receive chocolate for Valentine's Day; he knows that the Echizen Ryoma Fan Club had been in a mad rush to get the valentines to Ryoma-sama before that Tomoka girl decided to ban it. And Tezuka has the distinct feeling that Ryuzaki-sensei's granddaughter -- whose crush on Echizen is so obvious that only Echizen himself doesn't notice -- somehow gathered up the courage to give him the candy that she'd brought.
But Echizen Ryoma does not have reciprocation candy for anyone.
Tezuka doesn't think that anyone else notices it. Momo, after all, is busy moaning about how he's broke now because of all the chocolate he had to buy for this girl and that girl and that other girl, the quiet one with the nice eyes. And Kikumaru is busy making googly-eyes at Oishi, who is blushing and trying to change while shaking off the speculative stares. And Inui is busy taking notes about everything, including the nice-sized bag of candy sticking out of Kikumaru's bag, and Kaidou is busy looking terrified of the odd and ominous package in his cubby.
(Which is a gag present, Tezuka is sure of it, because Inui takes a special delight in terrorizing his kouhai.)
(Then again, maybe that's just Inui's... unique... way of showing affection.)
But Kawamura and Fuji notice. "Ne, Echizen..." Kawamura begins. "Um... You... do know what today is, don't you? March 14th?" Echizen looks up from tying his sneakers and his eyes dart from Kawamura's face to Fuji's to Tezuka's to Kawamura's again.
"March 14th...?" he repeats slowly. "Aa." There is a general sigh of relief from those who are paying attention. That's right. Echizen just isn't the type to give--
"Pi Day."
Total, utter, and complete silence.
"What?!"
--
It takes a while for the regulars to explain to Echizen that while today is, yes, Pi Day and Einstein's birthday, it is also a much greater holiday. And they entrust that task to the most capable of them all.
"White Day," Fuji says firmly. "They don't have it in America?"
"No," Echizen replies immediately, irritatedly, and sends the genius a look that says, I get it, can I leave now?
"Your parents never taught you about it?" Fuji persists.
"No."
The result is a myriad of sighs from Momoshiro, Kawamura, Kikumaru, and, most of all, Fuji, who is beginning to see that his task is very much useless.
Echizen, they are starting to realize, is hopelessly unromantic. Hopelessly clueless, too, because he doesn't seem to realize that the girls who have been eyeing him hopefully all day will be sobbing into their pillows tonight. Including Ryuzaki-sensei's granddaughter, who looked like she was on the verge of nervous tears all this morning.
Tezuka feels the beginnings of amusement stir in his lips.
--
"Ne, Buchou," says Echizen suddenly from beside the captain. Fuji, on Tezuka's right, looks curiously at the freshman.
"Hm," Tezuka responds impassively, not shifting his gaze from where Arai and Momoshiro are playing a one-sided game. Three-love in Momoshiro's favor. Arai's doing fairly well, though, and it looks like he's going to win this game, and maybe the next, if Momo doesn't stop being so careless.
"You don't have any chocolates to give either."
Tezuka shrugs. "I wasn't given any for Valentine's."
"Heeeh? None?"
Tezuka shrugs again.
"Tezuka is too unapproachable," Fuji explains slyly, his eyes sliding to Tezuka's face. The captain ignores the challenge to protest.
"The girls are afraid of him?"
"Aa. A little." Fuji gives something that is terribly alike to a smirk. "Especially on Valentine's. Your aura goes black, Tezuka."
The captain very pointedly ignores that and resists the urge to call for laps.
Echizen grin-smirks and resumes watching the Arai-Momoshiro game.
--
Tezuka knows that it is no accident that Echizen is the last one left in the clubroom with him after practice this afternoon. It is utterly obvious in the deliberating way the freshman glances at him, the way that he lingers in the lengthening shadows, taking an absurdly long time to tie his shoes, but Tezuka knows better than to ask about it.
Ryoma always gets to the point sooner or later.
"Ne, Buchou."
"Hm."
There is a slight pause. "Wanna get something to eat?"
"...Something to eat," he repeats, blinking.
"Yes."
"On White Day."
Ryoma gives him a sardonic tilt of the head and a slowly widening smirk.
"No. On Pi Day," he returns. "I'm American, remember?"
"...I see." Tezuka buttons his cuffs and shrugs on his uniform jacket. "A date, then."
Echizen pauses, then hitches his shoulder up slowly.
"Is it?" he asks, watching the captain's face intently.
"Yes," Tezuka answers decisively. "It is."
--
Maybe, Tezuka thinks as he brushes his lips against Ryoma's at the end of the night, Echizen isn't so unromantic.
Or maybe they're both so unromantic that it doesn't matter either way.
[So there.]