[HnG/PoT] Kids These Days (PG)
Title: Kids These Days
Author: Kimmie
Fandom: Hikaru no Go/Prince of Tennis
Pairing: sort-of Ogata/Tezuka
Type: gen/shonen ai
Rating: PG
Notes: aiwritingfic requested something in the fandoms of Hikago or Tenupuri or Nodame Cantabile. I have next to no knowledge of NC, but the other two, I do. I intended to write something yesterday, but didn't. And today? This happened. A PoT/Hikago crossover with Ogata thinking naughty thoughts about his tennis instructor. Ai, this is all your fault, I'm sure. Accept the blame!
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"I don't know what the hell I was thinking." There he sat in tennis whites and holding a brand new racquet... sitting on the ground where he'd fallen after missing the 30th consecutive 'easy shot' hit his way by the way-too-good-looking young tennis god who was walking around to him now.
"When was the last time you attempted any physical activity?" The other man helped him to his feet and Ogata stretched out the ankle that had given away beneath him.
He thought of Hitomi, and Keiko, and Ai, but that had been sex... which probably wasn't what the guy was talking about. "I play go for a living," he muttered out as he retied his sneakers.
"Then perhaps we should go back to the basics. I think that running 10 laps around the court might be a helpful start."
Ogata glared at the looker, then forced a grin. "Sure. Why not?" He set out the door and around the enclosure. His mind counted the laps off like territory as he thought of why he was doing this. It was Kuwabara's fault, he knew. The old man had complained of being distracted by the sight of his stomach through the gaps in his shirt. He'd gone so far as to ask whether Ogata was binge eating because Kuwabara kept beating him. The very idea was obnoxious. Though, to be fair, he had put on a bit of weight. His schedule had gotten so busy that the times that he wasn't being wined and dined in fancy French-style restaurants, he only had time for fast-food. Rather than go the way of Kurata, though, he decided to go get some damn exercise.
He'd thought of joining a gym, but the only routine he'd ever managed to make time for before was feeding his fish. He doubted he could add in weight lifting and crunches and running on a treadmill to that. Then, the idea of doing nothing but running seemed distastful. He spent too much time thinking as it was, and he'd be bored running, and would turn to thinking. He'd learned from experience that his thought patterns were often unhealthy, especially if it were around the time of a challenge match. He'd be playing Kuwabara next month. He needed to not dwell. So, he looked at sports. Too many of them were team-oriented, though. He needed something like go... which turned him to tennis.
After playing tennis briefly in middle school (back before go had completely taken over his life), he'd planned to play in high school, but professional go had come along instead. When it came to the question of "Mind or Body?", he'd known which one he'd prefer to nurture. He'd thought at times that he might have been able to do both, but go consumed him so much now, that he was lucky to have had this one afternoon free to have the idea of his weakness beaten into him. And beaten it was.
He knew he wasn't slow, and he knew that he wasn't really bad at tennis, even after all this time, but this guy was good. As good at tennis as Ogata was at go. He wondered why the guy was giving tennis lessons when it was obvious that he should be in the pros in his own world.
But, his 10 laps were over, and he was tired. He stopped thinking about his coach, and entered the enclosure again. His racquet had been put away, and the other guy held out his bag to him. "I have other appointments available later on this week if you'd like to try again. I don't think you're ready to try any more today."
Part of Ogata wanted to insist on playing more today, and part of him wanted to collapse, but he only took his bag and slid it onto his shoulder. "Any chance you want to go for a drink?" It was almost 3. He didn't need the excuse to drink, but sometimes it didn't hurt.
The other man coughed. "I'm still in high school."
Ogata's bag slipped back to the ground as he looked the man over again. The man, no... The *kid* was taller than him, in impeccable shape, and wasn't that a quantum physics book poking out of his bag? He'd underestimated a lot of kids in his day, it seemed. "Sorry, er, Tezuka, was it?"
The boy nodded solemnly, though the hard lines of his jaw belied his age like everything else about him. Ogata tried not to be jealous, but he was. Yeah, this *kid* was probably half his age, but he was doing just what Ogata had wished he could do.
A little over two months later, Ogata found that he had picked up a few more routines. Instead of drinking in the evenings, he went to bed. It was just as easy not to dwell when he was asleep as it was when he was inebriated. In the mornings, he got up with the sun and ran a mile or so. And every Friday that he wasn't expected at a go event or match, he called ahead to book with Tezuka.
He still wasn't having actual games with Tezuka, but he could actually get a hit off the kid now. It wasn't much, but it was improvement. Kuwabara hadn't said anything about his shirt when they played last, and really hadn't said much at all. It was unprecedented, but enjoyable.
At their last tennis lesson, a dark-haired kid had come by looking for Tezuka... and this one actually looked like a kid. He'd called him nothing but "Buchou", and Ogata figured on doing the same at his next lesson. He'd developed something of a rapport with the kid, despite being constantly shocked by him. It was odd to have someone outside of go that he could talk to... he hadn't had that in years, and it had been when he was about this kid's age. Still, it was better than befriending Kurata. In a few years, when Tezuka was old enough, he'd go drinking with him, and they'd get all the chicks... unless he ended up falling for the kid first. He was pretty enough that Ogata considered it sometimes when he was soaking in the bathtub. He didn't do anything about it, though, and wouldn't. It was one thing to end a friendship based on an argument or growing apart. He wasn't about to end one as fruitful as this over his unquenchable hormones.
It couldn't hurt to try to get enough better at tennis that he could get a ball past Tezuka, and see him lean over to pick it up. The view of his legs in those tennis whites was something Ogata was quickly learning to appreciate. He'd never really thought of guys like that before, but he was beginning to understand the appeal now.
Ogata looked at the calendar and frowned to notice that he was scheduled to be out of town the coming Friday. No Tezuka this week, but there would be go. He tried to convince himself it would be okay, then wondered whether Tezuka would be available on Saturday. It, like an early game tengen, was sometimes worth a shot.
Author: Kimmie
Fandom: Hikaru no Go/Prince of Tennis
Pairing: sort-of Ogata/Tezuka
Type: gen/shonen ai
Rating: PG
Notes: aiwritingfic requested something in the fandoms of Hikago or Tenupuri or Nodame Cantabile. I have next to no knowledge of NC, but the other two, I do. I intended to write something yesterday, but didn't. And today? This happened. A PoT/Hikago crossover with Ogata thinking naughty thoughts about his tennis instructor. Ai, this is all your fault, I'm sure. Accept the blame!
----------
"I don't know what the hell I was thinking." There he sat in tennis whites and holding a brand new racquet... sitting on the ground where he'd fallen after missing the 30th consecutive 'easy shot' hit his way by the way-too-good-looking young tennis god who was walking around to him now.
"When was the last time you attempted any physical activity?" The other man helped him to his feet and Ogata stretched out the ankle that had given away beneath him.
He thought of Hitomi, and Keiko, and Ai, but that had been sex... which probably wasn't what the guy was talking about. "I play go for a living," he muttered out as he retied his sneakers.
"Then perhaps we should go back to the basics. I think that running 10 laps around the court might be a helpful start."
Ogata glared at the looker, then forced a grin. "Sure. Why not?" He set out the door and around the enclosure. His mind counted the laps off like territory as he thought of why he was doing this. It was Kuwabara's fault, he knew. The old man had complained of being distracted by the sight of his stomach through the gaps in his shirt. He'd gone so far as to ask whether Ogata was binge eating because Kuwabara kept beating him. The very idea was obnoxious. Though, to be fair, he had put on a bit of weight. His schedule had gotten so busy that the times that he wasn't being wined and dined in fancy French-style restaurants, he only had time for fast-food. Rather than go the way of Kurata, though, he decided to go get some damn exercise.
He'd thought of joining a gym, but the only routine he'd ever managed to make time for before was feeding his fish. He doubted he could add in weight lifting and crunches and running on a treadmill to that. Then, the idea of doing nothing but running seemed distastful. He spent too much time thinking as it was, and he'd be bored running, and would turn to thinking. He'd learned from experience that his thought patterns were often unhealthy, especially if it were around the time of a challenge match. He'd be playing Kuwabara next month. He needed to not dwell. So, he looked at sports. Too many of them were team-oriented, though. He needed something like go... which turned him to tennis.
After playing tennis briefly in middle school (back before go had completely taken over his life), he'd planned to play in high school, but professional go had come along instead. When it came to the question of "Mind or Body?", he'd known which one he'd prefer to nurture. He'd thought at times that he might have been able to do both, but go consumed him so much now, that he was lucky to have had this one afternoon free to have the idea of his weakness beaten into him. And beaten it was.
He knew he wasn't slow, and he knew that he wasn't really bad at tennis, even after all this time, but this guy was good. As good at tennis as Ogata was at go. He wondered why the guy was giving tennis lessons when it was obvious that he should be in the pros in his own world.
But, his 10 laps were over, and he was tired. He stopped thinking about his coach, and entered the enclosure again. His racquet had been put away, and the other guy held out his bag to him. "I have other appointments available later on this week if you'd like to try again. I don't think you're ready to try any more today."
Part of Ogata wanted to insist on playing more today, and part of him wanted to collapse, but he only took his bag and slid it onto his shoulder. "Any chance you want to go for a drink?" It was almost 3. He didn't need the excuse to drink, but sometimes it didn't hurt.
The other man coughed. "I'm still in high school."
Ogata's bag slipped back to the ground as he looked the man over again. The man, no... The *kid* was taller than him, in impeccable shape, and wasn't that a quantum physics book poking out of his bag? He'd underestimated a lot of kids in his day, it seemed. "Sorry, er, Tezuka, was it?"
The boy nodded solemnly, though the hard lines of his jaw belied his age like everything else about him. Ogata tried not to be jealous, but he was. Yeah, this *kid* was probably half his age, but he was doing just what Ogata had wished he could do.
A little over two months later, Ogata found that he had picked up a few more routines. Instead of drinking in the evenings, he went to bed. It was just as easy not to dwell when he was asleep as it was when he was inebriated. In the mornings, he got up with the sun and ran a mile or so. And every Friday that he wasn't expected at a go event or match, he called ahead to book with Tezuka.
He still wasn't having actual games with Tezuka, but he could actually get a hit off the kid now. It wasn't much, but it was improvement. Kuwabara hadn't said anything about his shirt when they played last, and really hadn't said much at all. It was unprecedented, but enjoyable.
At their last tennis lesson, a dark-haired kid had come by looking for Tezuka... and this one actually looked like a kid. He'd called him nothing but "Buchou", and Ogata figured on doing the same at his next lesson. He'd developed something of a rapport with the kid, despite being constantly shocked by him. It was odd to have someone outside of go that he could talk to... he hadn't had that in years, and it had been when he was about this kid's age. Still, it was better than befriending Kurata. In a few years, when Tezuka was old enough, he'd go drinking with him, and they'd get all the chicks... unless he ended up falling for the kid first. He was pretty enough that Ogata considered it sometimes when he was soaking in the bathtub. He didn't do anything about it, though, and wouldn't. It was one thing to end a friendship based on an argument or growing apart. He wasn't about to end one as fruitful as this over his unquenchable hormones.
It couldn't hurt to try to get enough better at tennis that he could get a ball past Tezuka, and see him lean over to pick it up. The view of his legs in those tennis whites was something Ogata was quickly learning to appreciate. He'd never really thought of guys like that before, but he was beginning to understand the appeal now.
Ogata looked at the calendar and frowned to notice that he was scheduled to be out of town the coming Friday. No Tezuka this week, but there would be go. He tried to convince himself it would be okay, then wondered whether Tezuka would be available on Saturday. It, like an early game tengen, was sometimes worth a shot.