tenipurifantasy challenge fic ♥
Title: Win Some, Lose Some
Pairing: Kentarou/Ryoma - Momo/?
Rating: PG-13 for boypetting, boykissing and Momo's bad manners and dirty mouth.
Summary: As requested by sparda219: KentarouRyoma, Just something where Kentarou has to try to compete with some other teniboy, preferably Momo, Kaidoh or Taka, for his snarky little affections. <3 Smut is certainly VERY welcome, though not required.
a/n - Sorry, Jess, I couldn't fit the smut in. Perhaps in the sequel, na? ♥
Win Some, Lose Some
Ryoma often wondered if Momo-senpai knew that his voice echoed off the sidewalks. It reverberated off of walls, carried in restaurants, startled teachers and students alike in the library at school. Ryoma wondered if all the indignant glares and shushing people directed toward Momo-senpai ever even registered to him.
Today, as they strolled together along the sidewalk, matching bags at their backs, Momo-senpai seemed determined to break his own record for disturbing the peace. Today - he was talking about Kaidoh-senpai’s disgusting habit of foregoing socks. Unfortunately for Ryoma, and for anyone who happened to pass by, he was talking about Kaidoh-senpai’s disgusting habit of foregoing socks around a mouthful of hamburger.
Ryoma sighed and tugged the brim of his cap down over his eyes.
“But does he listen to my well-meaning advice?” Momo asked, ignoring the crumbs that flew past his lips. “I’m only trying to help!”
“Maybe he doesn’t want any advice, Momo-Senpai,” Ryoma offered in his quiet monotone.
“Pssht. Maybe he’s just a stupid snake,” Momo corrected, wiping his fingers on his shirt as he dispatched the rest of his burger. “Meh, who cares about him anyway? I don’t want to talk about stupid Mamushi when I could be talking about how I’m going to whip your ass today, Echizen.”
Ryoma rolled his eyes and didn’t bother responding. He watched his feet as they walked along and it occurred to him, somewhat belatedly, that he was constantly walking in Momo-senpai’s shadow. He wondered if he would ever surpass him in strength and stature and, with a secret little smirk, decided that he would.
“Every time I see him he’s with Inui-senpai. I wonder if they’re up to something - I mean, you know how Inui-senpai is. What do you think, Echizen?”
Stopping at a drink machine, Ryoma fished around in his pocket for some change. “I think if Inui-senpai were up to something, it would be with Fuji-senpai.”
Ryoma frowned, staring at the coins lying flat on his palm and realizing that he didn’t have enough. He needn’t have bothered, though, as Momo was already feeding change into the machine and punching the grape Ponta button with the side of his fist. “Well, that’s a good point. But still…Kaidoh’s training menu seems a whole lot more involved than the rest of ours, don’t you think?”
Bending to retrieve the cold can of soda, Ryoma grunted his assent and popped the can open to take a long, welcome drink. He didn’t say thank you and he didn’t offer any to Momo. The cheapskate was already into him for at least twenty more sodas.
Finally, he glanced up at Momo, for only a second. “He’s not up to something, Momo-senpai. He just likes Kaidoh-senpai, that’s all.”
Walking along, ahead of Momo now, Ryoma smiled to himself while he waited for the meaning of what he’d said to sink in. Momo was uncharacteristically silent, plodding along in the younger boy’s footsteps as he pondered the brevity of what his friend had said. “But, Echizen…Inui-senpai is…I mean, shouldn’t he like all of us? I mean, we are his teammates and I’d think he’d want to help us improve…”
Ryoma grinned, head down. He suspected that Inui would help a teammate improve only until said improvements began to pose a threat to Inui’s own position on the team. The only exception to this rule seemed to be Kaidoh. Ryoma wondered if Momo was really as clueless as he was letting on.
He stopped walking, turned to face his friend. “Momo-senpai,” he murmured.
Momo blinked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and gazing down at the shorter boy. “Huh? What?”
With a faint sigh, Ryoma shook his head. Maybe Momo really was clueless. “Inui-senpai likes Kaidoh-senpai. Get it?”
Momo opened his mouth to speak before he’d actually engaged his brain, as was his habit, and after a moment - promptly closed it again. His brows drew together and Ryoma could practically hear the wheels and gears grinding in his senpai’s brain as he attempted to make sense of what Ryoma had just said.
“Wait a minute…” he finally managed.
Ryoma blinked, expression mild as he waited patiently for Momo to come to an accurate conclusion. People walked around them on the sidewalk. Ryoma didn’t move.
“So…you’re saying that Inui-senpai likes Kaidoh-senpai more than he likes us?”
Ryoma nodded. “Something like that.”
Momo snorted, folding his arms across his chest and looking petulant for a moment. Ryoma ducked his head to hide his amusement.
“Well, that’s not fair! Does Tezuka-buchou know about this? I don’t think he’d let Inui buff Kaidoh all up just so he can cream the rest of us, do you?”
“Momo-senpai. He’s not doing it to give Kaidoh-senpai the advantage over us.”
Momo scratched his head. “He’s not?”
Ryoma took a deep, calming breath. “No.”
“Well why is he doing it, then, if you know so much?” He asked, sounding smug.
Ryoma rolled his eyes. Talking to Momo was like reasoning with Nanjiroh, most of the time. “Because he wants to ask Kaidoh-senpai for a date, that’s why.”
“But…Echizen…” Momo sputtered, trailing off when a familiar - loud - voice hailed them in the distance.
“Ryoma!”
As Ryoma turned his head in the direction of the voice, Momo caught the barest hint of a smile on his usually expressionless face. Lifting a hand in greeting, Ryoma waved the boy over and it wasn’t until Aoi Kentarou was upon them that Momo realized this was no chance meeting. Checking his watch and looking quite happy about it, he clamped a hand on Ryoma’s head and mussed his hair beneath his cap. Ryoma wrinkled his nose, but did not object.
Aoi patted Ryoma’s shoulder, practically bouncing in place and finally, he dragged his gaze up and seemed to notice Momoshiro. “Oi, Momoshiro-kun! Are you going to play with us, too?”
Momo frowned, gaze shifting from Aoi to Ryoma. “Too?” As far as Momo was concerned, any plans he’d had with Ryoma today did not include Aoi Kentarou. He frowned again.
Aoi laughed, slinging an around Ryoma’s shoulders and squeezing him in a little hug. Momo watched, certain that Ryoma would deck the taller boy, or at the very least, shove him away, but…he didn’t. He blushed and tugged the brim of his cap down a bit further. But he did not object.
“Ryoma and I play every Saturday, actually! I keep telling him to bring you along sometime, but he never does - I’ve wanted to play you for awhile, Momoshiro-kun!”
Ryoma muttered something under his breath, but Momo couldn’t hear him. Aoi couldn’t either, but he apparently found something endearing in Ryoma’s mutterings and squeezed his shoulders again. It pissed Momo off and, inexplicably, he found that a little friendly competition was quite a welcome prospect. He shot Ryoma a little glance, but didn’t receive any acknowledgement and that pissed Momo off, too. Where did Ryoma get off hanging out with this Rokkaku kid and keeping it a big secret? Why was it such a secret? And why the hell hadn’t Ryoma asked him to play?
Momo decided that it had something to do with Aoi Kentarou and why he and Ryoma were all buddy-buddy. “Good news then, Aoi-kun. I’m free all afternoon.”
Aoi laughed and leaned over to clap Momo on the shoulder. “That’s great, Momoshiro-kun! Come on, we’ll head over to my courts, it’ll be fun!” He turned, flashing Ryoma a bright smile. “Won’t it, Ryoma?”
Ryoma shrugged, non-committal, but Aoi obviously took that as his agreement since he’d already grabbed Ryoma’s wrist and was dragging him in the direction of Rokkaku’s courts.
Momo snorted in disdain, but he followed anyway.
***
On the courts now, Ryoma was calm and expressionless. He tapped his racket against his shoe and stretched lazily. He didn’t warm up.
Momo watched Aoi, seated on the concrete, long legs out before him as he stretched his muscles and whistled to himself. Momo twisted at the waist, stretching, filling time with idle movements, all the while watching Aoi and attempting to figure out why he was so irritated by the idea of Ryoma playing tennis with Aoi in secret.
It wasn’t jealousy - not exactly. Momo didn’t know what it was. All he knew was that he felt as though Ryoma had been keeping secrets from him and he didn’t like it. He was silent, picking up his racket to swing it idly when Aoi scrambled up from the concrete to lope over to Ryoma. Did the gangly dork ever walk anywhere? Did he have a gallop like a stupid puppy everywhere he went?
Aoi leaned down to talk to Ryoma and, though Momo could tell he was trying to keep his voice down, it didn’t quite work. His voice still carried even though Momo wasn’t close enough to hear precisely what he was saying. Besides, it wasn’t what he’d said that interested Momo as much as Ryoma’s reaction to it. He didn’t seem to mind Aoi usurping his personal space and, after a moment, he glanced up, sharing a little smile with the taller boy.
Momo had, effectively, had enough.
“Okay, are we gonna play or are we gonna stand around making eyes at each other, huh?”
Ryoma frowned. Aoi laughed.
“How about you and me, Momoshiro-kun? First set?”
Momo swung his racket. “You got it.”
Sliding a little glance in Ryoma’s direction, Momo grinned. “How about a little bet, Aoi-kun?”
Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Aoi laughed, sounding positively delighted. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”
Holding Ryoma’s gaze as he spoke, Momo didn’t have the slightest idea what possessed him to suggest what he was about to suggest. “One set. Winner gets Echizen.”
Aoi scoffed. “Of course the winner gets Ryoma - who else would the winner play?”
Ryoma gazed intently at Momo, as though he could tell where this was going and didn’t want to risk missing any of the supreme stupidity that might come out of Momo’s mouth.
“Nono,” he clarified, shaking his head. “The winner,” and here he paused - likely for the dramatic effect, “wins a date with Echizen.”
Head cocked to one side, Aoi considered Momo, looking as though he was certain the other boy had lost his mind. Ryoma rolled his eyes, flopping down on the bench to slouch most ungracefully. “Che. Idiot,” he muttered.
Momo beamed. “What do you say to that, Aoi-kun?”
Aoi bounced in place, appearing quite relaxed - even interested. “Sure thing, Momoshiro-kun. As long as Ryoma doesn’t mind.” He glanced over to the smaller boy. “What do you think, Ryoma? Sound okay?”
Tugging on the brim of his cap, out of habit rather than a need to shield his eyes as he couldn’t possibly tug it down any further, Ryoma nodded slightly. “Yeah, sure.”
Momo glared at him, incredulous. “That’s all you have to say? ‘Yeah, sure’?!”
Ryoma shrugged. “What do you want me to say, Momo-senpai?”
Standing there, mouth working but no real words coming out, Momo sputtered for a moment. “Well…you could…how about…” he kicked at a pebble, frustrated. “I don’t know! You could at least sound surprised or something!”
Ryoma shrugged. “Not surprised.”
“But…how can you…?”
Aoi laughed again, so good-natured that Momo wanted to deck him. “Me and Ryoma go on dates all the time, Momoshiro-kun. It’s no big thing.”
Momo gaped - eyes wide, mouth hanging open. “What?! Echizen - are you dating this guy?”
Ryoma shrugged again, cheeks faintly pink. “Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?!” Momo demanded, fist clenched though he couldn’t have said why. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Aw, come on, Momoshiro-kun! You know what sometimes means! Let’s play already, huh?” Aoi swung his racket experimentally. “Tell you what, I’ll even raise the stakes a little, eh?
Ryoma sat up a little. “Kenken…” he began, his tone a low warning that seemed only to amuse Aoi.
Momo, however, was far from being amused. Kenken? Oh yeah. Slickhead was going down. “No, really. I’d like to hear these terms, Kenken.”
Aoi laughed and winked at Ryoma, who crossed his arms over his chest in his very best buchou impression. “Ryoma will kiss whoever wins each game. How’s that sound?”
Ryoma facepalmed, muffling a groan in his hands while Momoshiro simply stood where he was, gaping and quite resembling a landed carp. “Echizen! Do you kiss this guy?!”
Ryoma glanced up, expression blank. “Sometimes. Momo-senpai, will you just hurry up and start?”
Scowling, Momo turned and stalked over to the back of the court, taking his place, mumbling to himself the whole time. “Hurry up and start, he says. Kenken, he says. Beh.”
Aoi grinned, waving at Momo. “I’ll serve, Momoshiro-kun! You ready?”
Nodding irritably, Momo got into position. He was going to slam that ball right down Aoi Kentarou’s throat. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready.”
From the sidelines, Ryoma watched, shaking his head as he watched Aoi raise his arm in preparation to serve. He took a moment to admire the lean lines of the other boy’s body before glancing over to Momo. Biceps bared by the muscle shirt he wore, he was definitely no slouch, himself. Ryoma could admit, if only to himself, that he didn’t mind the terms of this wager.
Aoi’s serve was powerful and flawless and, once he’d begun the game, he didn’t allow himself to be distracted. He’d seen Momoshiro play on a couple of occasions and he knew that he wasn’t going to be an easy win.
The two boys played, silent and focused, neither willing to give the other an opening to take a point and by the time Aoi took the very first one, twenty minutes had passed. Ryoma watched them - Aoi so relaxed and playful and Momo so determined and quick-tempered - and he couldn’t help smiling. He knew, without question, that Momo did not like him the way he might let on to Aoi. Momo, when he was able to come to terms with the fact that he liked boys just the same as he liked girls, would turn his attentions to Kaidoh. Ryoma was sure of it.
Momo’s triumphant laugh echoed over the court and startled Ryoma away from his train of thought. “Woohooo! Did you see that, Echizen? BAM! Right against the fence!”
Ryoma smiled, watching his friend pump his fist in the air, and rose to his feet slowly. He’d meet Momo half-way as he didn’t think that Momo would come to him to get his prize.
Aoi laughed, leaning against the fence and looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. “You won that one, Momoshiro-kun. A deal’s a deal.”
As Ryoma approached the net, Momo looked less thrilled with himself and a little more apprehensive. “Eh…Echizen…”
Ryoma paused, hand resting on the net and tilted his head when he looked up at Momo. “What is it, Momo-senpai? Looking to forfeit, already?”
Momo snorted, taking a step toward his teammate. “Hell, no. You wanna back out or something, Echizen?”
Ryoma shook his head. “Nope.”
Standing at the back of the court, Aoi smiled to himself as he watched Momo approach Ryoma with an almost careful hesitation. He licked his lips nervously and suddenly remembered how sweaty he was. Aoi had had him running all over the court and he was afraid that he might be too sweaty to stand so close to Ryoma.
He realized, however, when Ryoma turned those big, golden eyes on him, that his friend would never think twice about something like that.
He wasn’t a girl.
“Echizen…” he began, more nervous than he’d ever been in his life, and Ryoma stepped forward, hand fisting in the front of Momo’s shirt to tug him closer.
“Shut up, Momo-senpai,” he murmured.
Almost without being cognizant of it, Momo reached up to turn Ryoma’s cap backwards and he was suddenly very much aware of how long and how thick his teammate’s lashes were. It felt like second nature when he gripped the shorter boy’s shoulder and ducked his head to press his lips to Ryoma’s.
Ryoma was silent and pliant, fingers tightening in the front of Momo’s shirt when the taller boy tilted his head, covering Ryoma’s mouth with his own. The grip he maintained on Ryoma’s shoulder was almost too much but Ryoma endured it, if only because he’d been wondering, for so long, what it would be like to kiss his best friend.
When Momo finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed - and not only from his recent exertions - and Aoi called out to him. “All right, Momoshiro-kun! Game on, right?”
Ryoma turned his hat around again and, just before he turned away, Momo caught a glimpse of his friend’s self-satisfied little smirk. It made him smile.
“Game on, Aoi-kun! I hope you’re in the mood to lose!”
Just as Momo was about to serve, Aoi laughed. “I’m never in the mood to lose!”
And - as though to provide supporting evidence - he went on to soundly trounce Momo in less than seven minutes, thereby leading Momo to believe that the first game had been the equivalent of a pity fuck.
Momo gripped his racket hard enough that he could feel the handle through the grip tape when Aoi jogged over to the bench that Ryoma occupied, kneeled over him and plucked his cap off. He dangled it over Ryoma’s head, just out of reach, and laughed when Ryoma began to wrestle him for it. Leaning up as he was, it was all too easy for Aoi to steal a kiss and - when he did - Momo couldn’t do anything but stand and stare.
The minute Aoi slanted his mouth over Ryoma’s, the shorter boy’s struggles ceased and he curled his arms around Aoi’s neck and parted his lips. They kissed for long moments, Aoi changing the angle of the kiss twice, and when he finally pulled back, Ryoma’s lips were swollen and red.
Momo wanted to break something. Namely, Aoi Kentarou.
“You wanna hurry the hell up, Aoi? I didn’t come all the way out here to watch you get it on.”
Aoi grinned as he sprang back to his feet, blowing Ryoma a kiss over his shoulder. Ryoma rolled his eyes, but his amused indulgence was obvious even to Momo.
“Sorry, Momoshiro-kun! I get a little carried away, sometimes.” He admitted, not looking at all sorry. The rat bastard.
Aoi took the next two games, taking advantage of Momo’s irritation to the very best of his ability. Twice more, Momo was forced to stand around like the world’s biggest third wheel and watch while Aoi Kentarou molested his teammate.
By the fourth game, Momo had gone well past pissed off and was barreling headlong into a very real anger. He couldn’t say for certain, because the Rokkaku captain was such an earnest guy, but he would be almost willing to bet that he was torturing Momo on purpose.
Standing in the center of the court, Momo watched Aoi’s every move - he was getting wise to the boy’s tricks - and he bent his knees, feet firmly planted, and waited for his window. Back and forth he’d gone, his shirt drenched with sweat by this time, and when Aoi lobbed the next ball at him, Momo’s wicked grin was all the warning he needed.
Aoi stepped back, muscles tensed, and jack-knifed the ball across the court. Aoi was smiling - he was eating it up - and even as he backed up, racket poised, he knew he wasn’t going to take this one.
Momo didn’t even wait for the ball to stop spinning before he’d flung his racket down and was stalking toward Ryoma, jaw set and shoulders squared. Ryoma didn’t bother to stand up and was, instead, lounging on the bench and daring to look bored.
Lip curled in a sneer, Momo gripped the smaller boy’s arms and hauled him up. His feet cleared the ground when Momo lifted him and this time, when he claimed his kiss, he dispensed with the formalities, forced Ryoma’s lips open and pushed his tongue right into his mouth. This kiss was deep, personal - dominating. Ryoma was almost glad that Momo was holding him up because if he hadn’t been, Ryoma was sure his knees would have buckled.
He gripped the taller boy’s shoulders, damp through his shirt, and moaned when Momo sucked on his tongue; his eyes widened when Momo’s hands slid down his back to grip his bottom. Over his friend’s shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Aoi and Ryoma imagined that his own expression very closely resembled that of his boyfriend’s.
For all his kindhearted playfulness, Aoi could be a bit of a trickster and Ryoma had known, from minute one, that he’d intended to have a little fun with Momo. Neither of them, however, had expected Momo to be quite so…passionate.
As Ryoma closed his eyes again, though, he supposed he should have.
The minute Momo released Ryoma, his ass hit the bench and he braced both hands on the weathered wood to keep from falling over. His head was spinning and his cock was half-hard. This could make for a rather awkward practice come Monday afternoon.
Momo stared down at him, cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. “You really going out with Aoi?” He asked, still a little winded.
Ryoma nodded, nudged the bill of his cap up a bit. Momo blocked the sunlight from his eyes. “Yeah.”
Momo nodded once. “You really like him, then?”
Ryoma nodded again. “Momo-senpai…” he began, voice husky.
Lips quirked in a little half-smile, Momo flicked the bill of Ryoma’s cap. “Don’t explain.”
The look that Momo offered Ryoma then told the smaller boy all he needed to know. He might have leveled the playing field, but he wasn’t going to fight a losing battle. It wasn’t about a silly bet anymore. It was about honor and pride - and Momo had that in spades. It was what Ryoma admired about him.
He watched his best friend stride away, muscles across his back pulled taut under his sweat-soaked shirt, and the light in Aoi’s eyes was a challenge well-met.
He watched, riveted, as the two boys played through the next two games, neither of them stopping to claim any sort of affection from Ryoma and by the time they began to wind down, the score was tied and both boys were panting.
With a quick glance in Ryoma’s direction, Aoi rested his racket against his shoulder and made his way toward the net. Momo lowered his own racket, gazing at the other boy across the net in confusion. “What are you doing, Aoi? We got a tie to break.”
Aoi shook his head and held out his hand to Momo. “Ne, Momoshiro-kun, it was a good game. I’ve got nothing to prove.”
Momo cocked his head as he clasped hands with the other boy. “Does this mean you forfeit Echizen?”
Aoi laughed, squeezing Momo’s hand too tight. “Not a chance. But I guess if I had to lose him to anyone, it’d be you.”
Momo smiled, turning to smile at Ryoma, still holding tight to Aoi’s hand. “You hear that, Echizen? Your boyfriend’s welshing on our bet.”
Making his way to the court, sleeves pushed up and hat tugged down, Ryoma joined Aoi, taking his place at his side. Momo was glad he couldn’t see the little brat’s eyes.
“I don’t hear you demanding a tiebreak,” he returned, voice light.
Momo laughed, letting go of Aoi’s hand to tug Ryoma’s cap down to cover his face. “Smart mouthed brat.”
Adjusting his cap, Ryoma smirked up at him even as Aoi draped an arm around his shoulders. “Good game, Momo-senpai.”
Side by side they stood, Ryoma almost leaning against Aoi, as Momo retrieved his bag and put his racket away. “Well. I guess I’ll head out then.” Shouldering his bag, he lifted his chin in acknowledgement. “Behave yourself, Echizen. I’ll see you Monday.”
Rolling his eyes at Momo’s words, he tilted his head when Aoi began to stroke the back of his neck idly. “You still picking me up?”
Momo began to back away, small smile hovering on his lips. “You bet. I can’t let a little runt like you run around by yourself.”
He turned, taking his leave with Aoi’s laugh at his back. He didn’t have to look back to know that Ryoma was muttering something unflattering under his breath. He didn’t want to look back because he didn’t want to see the closeness that Ryoma allowed Aoi.
Momo made his way along the sidewalk, kicking at stray pebbles and wondering when he would be able to put a name to the odd way he felt. He wasn’t angry, wasn’t really upset. Truthfully, he felt calm. Or maybe he mistaking calm for numb.
Either way, he wasn’t certain what he was supposed to feel, so he decided not to dwell on it overmuch. It occurred to him, after he’d put about four blocks between himself and his best friend, that Aoi probably could have beaten him if he’d really wanted to. He supposed that Rokkaku’s captain was an okay sort.
He was still a bastard, though.
So busy trying to silence his charitable thoughts with more enjoyable, unsportsmanlike ones, Momo didn’t hear the car slowing behind him. It wasn’t until the long, elegant automobile pulled up to the curb just a few feet in front of him that he stopped.
Hefting his bag, he stepped forward to get a better look, halting again when the tinted window lowered. Blinking his confusion, he cocked his head when he realized who was inside the car.
“It’s a bit sad that you’re skulking along the sidewalk all by yourself, na, Momoshiro?”
Momo scowled. He really didn’t need this shit today. “What the hell do you want? You slumming or something?”
Resting his elbow on the open window, Atobe Keigo offered Momo a faint smile. “Something like that. Would you like a ride?”
Momo snorted. “From you? I’d rather crawl home, thanks.”
Attempting to appear surprised, Atobe brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes and favored Momo with a long, assessing gaze. “Such forceful sentiments, Momoshiro-kun. I might almost begin to think that you dislike me.”
“You might almost be correct, in that case, Atobe,” Momo returned, wondering why in the hell he was standing there arguing with this smug bastard. “Anyway, I don’t have a direct line to Tezuka, so you’re wasting your time.”
So saying, he turned and began to head toward the stoplight, hoping like hell there would be no traffic coming. He didn’t want to make any more small talk with Atobe Fucking Keigo.
As luck would have it, however, Atobe’s car simply eased along beside him, slow enough that Atobe could still talk at him and not outrun him. “Come now, Momoshiro-kun. You’re a ways from your side of town and you look quite fatigued. Why not let me take you home?”
Momo didn’t look at him. “I’m sweaty and I stink. I wouldn’t want to dirty up your nice leather interior.”
Atobe scoffed. “The interior isn’t leather. You know what leather is like in the summertime, Momoshiro-kun.”
“Well, I don’t give a crap. Leave me alone and go harass somebody else. I’m not in the mood.”
To Momo’s surprise, the car stopped and, behind him, he heard a car door open and close. He kept walking.
Expecting to see a liveried driver waltzing alongside him when he glanced over, he was shocked to meet Atobe’s cool gaze. “What are you doing?!”
Atobe shrugged lightly. “Walking with you. What does it look like?”
Momo frowned. “Are you deaf? I told you to leave me alone, didn’t I?”
Turning, Atobe cut Momo off, moving to stand in front of him. “Humor me.” He jerked his head toward the waiting limo and Momo searched his gaze - there was no trace of mockery there. “Let me give you a ride.”
Momo considered him warily. “What’s in it for you?”
With the barest, maddening, single most arousing smile Momo had ever seen in his life, Atobe swept him with a slow, lingering glance. “The pleasure of your company?”
At Momo’s hesitant look, Atobe tilted his head, trailed one fingertip down the side of Momo’s bare arm. “I’ve always quite admired your…form…Momoshiro-kun. Did you know?”
He smiled then. “Come on, Momoshiro. I’m not going to bite you.”
In spite of himself, Momo smiled slightly. “You’re such an asshole.”
With one hand at Momo’s lower back, Atobe guided him toward the car, standing close enough that Momo could smell the rich, expensive scent of his cologne. His voice, so close to Momo’s ear, was low and cultured. Momo found himself responding despite his determination to the contrary.
“Careful. You’ll hurt my feelings,” Atobe warned, voice redolent with amusement. He waited until Momo had slid into the backseat before following him.
“Hey!” Momo protested. “You don’t need to sit on top of me - gimme some room, dammit!”
Atobe rolled his eyes and raised the window again. “Relax. I said I wouldn’t bite, didn’t I?”
Momo didn’t answer, and eyed Atobe warily. “I don’t trust you.”
Closing the distance between them, Atobe backed Momo against the opposite door, eyes intent even while he smiled so prettily. “Smart boy,” he allowed.
So close now that Momo could see the flecks of blue in Atobe’s dark eyes, he parted his lips to protest when Atobe shifted closer, reached around him - and locked the doors.
End
Pairing: Kentarou/Ryoma - Momo/?
Rating: PG-13 for boypetting, boykissing and Momo's bad manners and dirty mouth.
Summary: As requested by sparda219: KentarouRyoma, Just something where Kentarou has to try to compete with some other teniboy, preferably Momo, Kaidoh or Taka, for his snarky little affections. <3 Smut is certainly VERY welcome, though not required.
a/n - Sorry, Jess, I couldn't fit the smut in. Perhaps in the sequel, na? ♥
Win Some, Lose Some
Ryoma often wondered if Momo-senpai knew that his voice echoed off the sidewalks. It reverberated off of walls, carried in restaurants, startled teachers and students alike in the library at school. Ryoma wondered if all the indignant glares and shushing people directed toward Momo-senpai ever even registered to him.
Today, as they strolled together along the sidewalk, matching bags at their backs, Momo-senpai seemed determined to break his own record for disturbing the peace. Today - he was talking about Kaidoh-senpai’s disgusting habit of foregoing socks. Unfortunately for Ryoma, and for anyone who happened to pass by, he was talking about Kaidoh-senpai’s disgusting habit of foregoing socks around a mouthful of hamburger.
Ryoma sighed and tugged the brim of his cap down over his eyes.
“But does he listen to my well-meaning advice?” Momo asked, ignoring the crumbs that flew past his lips. “I’m only trying to help!”
“Maybe he doesn’t want any advice, Momo-Senpai,” Ryoma offered in his quiet monotone.
“Pssht. Maybe he’s just a stupid snake,” Momo corrected, wiping his fingers on his shirt as he dispatched the rest of his burger. “Meh, who cares about him anyway? I don’t want to talk about stupid Mamushi when I could be talking about how I’m going to whip your ass today, Echizen.”
Ryoma rolled his eyes and didn’t bother responding. He watched his feet as they walked along and it occurred to him, somewhat belatedly, that he was constantly walking in Momo-senpai’s shadow. He wondered if he would ever surpass him in strength and stature and, with a secret little smirk, decided that he would.
“Every time I see him he’s with Inui-senpai. I wonder if they’re up to something - I mean, you know how Inui-senpai is. What do you think, Echizen?”
Stopping at a drink machine, Ryoma fished around in his pocket for some change. “I think if Inui-senpai were up to something, it would be with Fuji-senpai.”
Ryoma frowned, staring at the coins lying flat on his palm and realizing that he didn’t have enough. He needn’t have bothered, though, as Momo was already feeding change into the machine and punching the grape Ponta button with the side of his fist. “Well, that’s a good point. But still…Kaidoh’s training menu seems a whole lot more involved than the rest of ours, don’t you think?”
Bending to retrieve the cold can of soda, Ryoma grunted his assent and popped the can open to take a long, welcome drink. He didn’t say thank you and he didn’t offer any to Momo. The cheapskate was already into him for at least twenty more sodas.
Finally, he glanced up at Momo, for only a second. “He’s not up to something, Momo-senpai. He just likes Kaidoh-senpai, that’s all.”
Walking along, ahead of Momo now, Ryoma smiled to himself while he waited for the meaning of what he’d said to sink in. Momo was uncharacteristically silent, plodding along in the younger boy’s footsteps as he pondered the brevity of what his friend had said. “But, Echizen…Inui-senpai is…I mean, shouldn’t he like all of us? I mean, we are his teammates and I’d think he’d want to help us improve…”
Ryoma grinned, head down. He suspected that Inui would help a teammate improve only until said improvements began to pose a threat to Inui’s own position on the team. The only exception to this rule seemed to be Kaidoh. Ryoma wondered if Momo was really as clueless as he was letting on.
He stopped walking, turned to face his friend. “Momo-senpai,” he murmured.
Momo blinked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and gazing down at the shorter boy. “Huh? What?”
With a faint sigh, Ryoma shook his head. Maybe Momo really was clueless. “Inui-senpai likes Kaidoh-senpai. Get it?”
Momo opened his mouth to speak before he’d actually engaged his brain, as was his habit, and after a moment - promptly closed it again. His brows drew together and Ryoma could practically hear the wheels and gears grinding in his senpai’s brain as he attempted to make sense of what Ryoma had just said.
“Wait a minute…” he finally managed.
Ryoma blinked, expression mild as he waited patiently for Momo to come to an accurate conclusion. People walked around them on the sidewalk. Ryoma didn’t move.
“So…you’re saying that Inui-senpai likes Kaidoh-senpai more than he likes us?”
Ryoma nodded. “Something like that.”
Momo snorted, folding his arms across his chest and looking petulant for a moment. Ryoma ducked his head to hide his amusement.
“Well, that’s not fair! Does Tezuka-buchou know about this? I don’t think he’d let Inui buff Kaidoh all up just so he can cream the rest of us, do you?”
“Momo-senpai. He’s not doing it to give Kaidoh-senpai the advantage over us.”
Momo scratched his head. “He’s not?”
Ryoma took a deep, calming breath. “No.”
“Well why is he doing it, then, if you know so much?” He asked, sounding smug.
Ryoma rolled his eyes. Talking to Momo was like reasoning with Nanjiroh, most of the time. “Because he wants to ask Kaidoh-senpai for a date, that’s why.”
“But…Echizen…” Momo sputtered, trailing off when a familiar - loud - voice hailed them in the distance.
“Ryoma!”
As Ryoma turned his head in the direction of the voice, Momo caught the barest hint of a smile on his usually expressionless face. Lifting a hand in greeting, Ryoma waved the boy over and it wasn’t until Aoi Kentarou was upon them that Momo realized this was no chance meeting. Checking his watch and looking quite happy about it, he clamped a hand on Ryoma’s head and mussed his hair beneath his cap. Ryoma wrinkled his nose, but did not object.
Aoi patted Ryoma’s shoulder, practically bouncing in place and finally, he dragged his gaze up and seemed to notice Momoshiro. “Oi, Momoshiro-kun! Are you going to play with us, too?”
Momo frowned, gaze shifting from Aoi to Ryoma. “Too?” As far as Momo was concerned, any plans he’d had with Ryoma today did not include Aoi Kentarou. He frowned again.
Aoi laughed, slinging an around Ryoma’s shoulders and squeezing him in a little hug. Momo watched, certain that Ryoma would deck the taller boy, or at the very least, shove him away, but…he didn’t. He blushed and tugged the brim of his cap down a bit further. But he did not object.
“Ryoma and I play every Saturday, actually! I keep telling him to bring you along sometime, but he never does - I’ve wanted to play you for awhile, Momoshiro-kun!”
Ryoma muttered something under his breath, but Momo couldn’t hear him. Aoi couldn’t either, but he apparently found something endearing in Ryoma’s mutterings and squeezed his shoulders again. It pissed Momo off and, inexplicably, he found that a little friendly competition was quite a welcome prospect. He shot Ryoma a little glance, but didn’t receive any acknowledgement and that pissed Momo off, too. Where did Ryoma get off hanging out with this Rokkaku kid and keeping it a big secret? Why was it such a secret? And why the hell hadn’t Ryoma asked him to play?
Momo decided that it had something to do with Aoi Kentarou and why he and Ryoma were all buddy-buddy. “Good news then, Aoi-kun. I’m free all afternoon.”
Aoi laughed and leaned over to clap Momo on the shoulder. “That’s great, Momoshiro-kun! Come on, we’ll head over to my courts, it’ll be fun!” He turned, flashing Ryoma a bright smile. “Won’t it, Ryoma?”
Ryoma shrugged, non-committal, but Aoi obviously took that as his agreement since he’d already grabbed Ryoma’s wrist and was dragging him in the direction of Rokkaku’s courts.
Momo snorted in disdain, but he followed anyway.
***
On the courts now, Ryoma was calm and expressionless. He tapped his racket against his shoe and stretched lazily. He didn’t warm up.
Momo watched Aoi, seated on the concrete, long legs out before him as he stretched his muscles and whistled to himself. Momo twisted at the waist, stretching, filling time with idle movements, all the while watching Aoi and attempting to figure out why he was so irritated by the idea of Ryoma playing tennis with Aoi in secret.
It wasn’t jealousy - not exactly. Momo didn’t know what it was. All he knew was that he felt as though Ryoma had been keeping secrets from him and he didn’t like it. He was silent, picking up his racket to swing it idly when Aoi scrambled up from the concrete to lope over to Ryoma. Did the gangly dork ever walk anywhere? Did he have a gallop like a stupid puppy everywhere he went?
Aoi leaned down to talk to Ryoma and, though Momo could tell he was trying to keep his voice down, it didn’t quite work. His voice still carried even though Momo wasn’t close enough to hear precisely what he was saying. Besides, it wasn’t what he’d said that interested Momo as much as Ryoma’s reaction to it. He didn’t seem to mind Aoi usurping his personal space and, after a moment, he glanced up, sharing a little smile with the taller boy.
Momo had, effectively, had enough.
“Okay, are we gonna play or are we gonna stand around making eyes at each other, huh?”
Ryoma frowned. Aoi laughed.
“How about you and me, Momoshiro-kun? First set?”
Momo swung his racket. “You got it.”
Sliding a little glance in Ryoma’s direction, Momo grinned. “How about a little bet, Aoi-kun?”
Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Aoi laughed, sounding positively delighted. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”
Holding Ryoma’s gaze as he spoke, Momo didn’t have the slightest idea what possessed him to suggest what he was about to suggest. “One set. Winner gets Echizen.”
Aoi scoffed. “Of course the winner gets Ryoma - who else would the winner play?”
Ryoma gazed intently at Momo, as though he could tell where this was going and didn’t want to risk missing any of the supreme stupidity that might come out of Momo’s mouth.
“Nono,” he clarified, shaking his head. “The winner,” and here he paused - likely for the dramatic effect, “wins a date with Echizen.”
Head cocked to one side, Aoi considered Momo, looking as though he was certain the other boy had lost his mind. Ryoma rolled his eyes, flopping down on the bench to slouch most ungracefully. “Che. Idiot,” he muttered.
Momo beamed. “What do you say to that, Aoi-kun?”
Aoi bounced in place, appearing quite relaxed - even interested. “Sure thing, Momoshiro-kun. As long as Ryoma doesn’t mind.” He glanced over to the smaller boy. “What do you think, Ryoma? Sound okay?”
Tugging on the brim of his cap, out of habit rather than a need to shield his eyes as he couldn’t possibly tug it down any further, Ryoma nodded slightly. “Yeah, sure.”
Momo glared at him, incredulous. “That’s all you have to say? ‘Yeah, sure’?!”
Ryoma shrugged. “What do you want me to say, Momo-senpai?”
Standing there, mouth working but no real words coming out, Momo sputtered for a moment. “Well…you could…how about…” he kicked at a pebble, frustrated. “I don’t know! You could at least sound surprised or something!”
Ryoma shrugged. “Not surprised.”
“But…how can you…?”
Aoi laughed again, so good-natured that Momo wanted to deck him. “Me and Ryoma go on dates all the time, Momoshiro-kun. It’s no big thing.”
Momo gaped - eyes wide, mouth hanging open. “What?! Echizen - are you dating this guy?”
Ryoma shrugged again, cheeks faintly pink. “Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?!” Momo demanded, fist clenched though he couldn’t have said why. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Aw, come on, Momoshiro-kun! You know what sometimes means! Let’s play already, huh?” Aoi swung his racket experimentally. “Tell you what, I’ll even raise the stakes a little, eh?
Ryoma sat up a little. “Kenken…” he began, his tone a low warning that seemed only to amuse Aoi.
Momo, however, was far from being amused. Kenken? Oh yeah. Slickhead was going down. “No, really. I’d like to hear these terms, Kenken.”
Aoi laughed and winked at Ryoma, who crossed his arms over his chest in his very best buchou impression. “Ryoma will kiss whoever wins each game. How’s that sound?”
Ryoma facepalmed, muffling a groan in his hands while Momoshiro simply stood where he was, gaping and quite resembling a landed carp. “Echizen! Do you kiss this guy?!”
Ryoma glanced up, expression blank. “Sometimes. Momo-senpai, will you just hurry up and start?”
Scowling, Momo turned and stalked over to the back of the court, taking his place, mumbling to himself the whole time. “Hurry up and start, he says. Kenken, he says. Beh.”
Aoi grinned, waving at Momo. “I’ll serve, Momoshiro-kun! You ready?”
Nodding irritably, Momo got into position. He was going to slam that ball right down Aoi Kentarou’s throat. “Yeah, yeah, I’m ready.”
From the sidelines, Ryoma watched, shaking his head as he watched Aoi raise his arm in preparation to serve. He took a moment to admire the lean lines of the other boy’s body before glancing over to Momo. Biceps bared by the muscle shirt he wore, he was definitely no slouch, himself. Ryoma could admit, if only to himself, that he didn’t mind the terms of this wager.
Aoi’s serve was powerful and flawless and, once he’d begun the game, he didn’t allow himself to be distracted. He’d seen Momoshiro play on a couple of occasions and he knew that he wasn’t going to be an easy win.
The two boys played, silent and focused, neither willing to give the other an opening to take a point and by the time Aoi took the very first one, twenty minutes had passed. Ryoma watched them - Aoi so relaxed and playful and Momo so determined and quick-tempered - and he couldn’t help smiling. He knew, without question, that Momo did not like him the way he might let on to Aoi. Momo, when he was able to come to terms with the fact that he liked boys just the same as he liked girls, would turn his attentions to Kaidoh. Ryoma was sure of it.
Momo’s triumphant laugh echoed over the court and startled Ryoma away from his train of thought. “Woohooo! Did you see that, Echizen? BAM! Right against the fence!”
Ryoma smiled, watching his friend pump his fist in the air, and rose to his feet slowly. He’d meet Momo half-way as he didn’t think that Momo would come to him to get his prize.
Aoi laughed, leaning against the fence and looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. “You won that one, Momoshiro-kun. A deal’s a deal.”
As Ryoma approached the net, Momo looked less thrilled with himself and a little more apprehensive. “Eh…Echizen…”
Ryoma paused, hand resting on the net and tilted his head when he looked up at Momo. “What is it, Momo-senpai? Looking to forfeit, already?”
Momo snorted, taking a step toward his teammate. “Hell, no. You wanna back out or something, Echizen?”
Ryoma shook his head. “Nope.”
Standing at the back of the court, Aoi smiled to himself as he watched Momo approach Ryoma with an almost careful hesitation. He licked his lips nervously and suddenly remembered how sweaty he was. Aoi had had him running all over the court and he was afraid that he might be too sweaty to stand so close to Ryoma.
He realized, however, when Ryoma turned those big, golden eyes on him, that his friend would never think twice about something like that.
He wasn’t a girl.
“Echizen…” he began, more nervous than he’d ever been in his life, and Ryoma stepped forward, hand fisting in the front of Momo’s shirt to tug him closer.
“Shut up, Momo-senpai,” he murmured.
Almost without being cognizant of it, Momo reached up to turn Ryoma’s cap backwards and he was suddenly very much aware of how long and how thick his teammate’s lashes were. It felt like second nature when he gripped the shorter boy’s shoulder and ducked his head to press his lips to Ryoma’s.
Ryoma was silent and pliant, fingers tightening in the front of Momo’s shirt when the taller boy tilted his head, covering Ryoma’s mouth with his own. The grip he maintained on Ryoma’s shoulder was almost too much but Ryoma endured it, if only because he’d been wondering, for so long, what it would be like to kiss his best friend.
When Momo finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed - and not only from his recent exertions - and Aoi called out to him. “All right, Momoshiro-kun! Game on, right?”
Ryoma turned his hat around again and, just before he turned away, Momo caught a glimpse of his friend’s self-satisfied little smirk. It made him smile.
“Game on, Aoi-kun! I hope you’re in the mood to lose!”
Just as Momo was about to serve, Aoi laughed. “I’m never in the mood to lose!”
And - as though to provide supporting evidence - he went on to soundly trounce Momo in less than seven minutes, thereby leading Momo to believe that the first game had been the equivalent of a pity fuck.
Momo gripped his racket hard enough that he could feel the handle through the grip tape when Aoi jogged over to the bench that Ryoma occupied, kneeled over him and plucked his cap off. He dangled it over Ryoma’s head, just out of reach, and laughed when Ryoma began to wrestle him for it. Leaning up as he was, it was all too easy for Aoi to steal a kiss and - when he did - Momo couldn’t do anything but stand and stare.
The minute Aoi slanted his mouth over Ryoma’s, the shorter boy’s struggles ceased and he curled his arms around Aoi’s neck and parted his lips. They kissed for long moments, Aoi changing the angle of the kiss twice, and when he finally pulled back, Ryoma’s lips were swollen and red.
Momo wanted to break something. Namely, Aoi Kentarou.
“You wanna hurry the hell up, Aoi? I didn’t come all the way out here to watch you get it on.”
Aoi grinned as he sprang back to his feet, blowing Ryoma a kiss over his shoulder. Ryoma rolled his eyes, but his amused indulgence was obvious even to Momo.
“Sorry, Momoshiro-kun! I get a little carried away, sometimes.” He admitted, not looking at all sorry. The rat bastard.
Aoi took the next two games, taking advantage of Momo’s irritation to the very best of his ability. Twice more, Momo was forced to stand around like the world’s biggest third wheel and watch while Aoi Kentarou molested his teammate.
By the fourth game, Momo had gone well past pissed off and was barreling headlong into a very real anger. He couldn’t say for certain, because the Rokkaku captain was such an earnest guy, but he would be almost willing to bet that he was torturing Momo on purpose.
Standing in the center of the court, Momo watched Aoi’s every move - he was getting wise to the boy’s tricks - and he bent his knees, feet firmly planted, and waited for his window. Back and forth he’d gone, his shirt drenched with sweat by this time, and when Aoi lobbed the next ball at him, Momo’s wicked grin was all the warning he needed.
Aoi stepped back, muscles tensed, and jack-knifed the ball across the court. Aoi was smiling - he was eating it up - and even as he backed up, racket poised, he knew he wasn’t going to take this one.
Momo didn’t even wait for the ball to stop spinning before he’d flung his racket down and was stalking toward Ryoma, jaw set and shoulders squared. Ryoma didn’t bother to stand up and was, instead, lounging on the bench and daring to look bored.
Lip curled in a sneer, Momo gripped the smaller boy’s arms and hauled him up. His feet cleared the ground when Momo lifted him and this time, when he claimed his kiss, he dispensed with the formalities, forced Ryoma’s lips open and pushed his tongue right into his mouth. This kiss was deep, personal - dominating. Ryoma was almost glad that Momo was holding him up because if he hadn’t been, Ryoma was sure his knees would have buckled.
He gripped the taller boy’s shoulders, damp through his shirt, and moaned when Momo sucked on his tongue; his eyes widened when Momo’s hands slid down his back to grip his bottom. Over his friend’s shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Aoi and Ryoma imagined that his own expression very closely resembled that of his boyfriend’s.
For all his kindhearted playfulness, Aoi could be a bit of a trickster and Ryoma had known, from minute one, that he’d intended to have a little fun with Momo. Neither of them, however, had expected Momo to be quite so…passionate.
As Ryoma closed his eyes again, though, he supposed he should have.
The minute Momo released Ryoma, his ass hit the bench and he braced both hands on the weathered wood to keep from falling over. His head was spinning and his cock was half-hard. This could make for a rather awkward practice come Monday afternoon.
Momo stared down at him, cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. “You really going out with Aoi?” He asked, still a little winded.
Ryoma nodded, nudged the bill of his cap up a bit. Momo blocked the sunlight from his eyes. “Yeah.”
Momo nodded once. “You really like him, then?”
Ryoma nodded again. “Momo-senpai…” he began, voice husky.
Lips quirked in a little half-smile, Momo flicked the bill of Ryoma’s cap. “Don’t explain.”
The look that Momo offered Ryoma then told the smaller boy all he needed to know. He might have leveled the playing field, but he wasn’t going to fight a losing battle. It wasn’t about a silly bet anymore. It was about honor and pride - and Momo had that in spades. It was what Ryoma admired about him.
He watched his best friend stride away, muscles across his back pulled taut under his sweat-soaked shirt, and the light in Aoi’s eyes was a challenge well-met.
He watched, riveted, as the two boys played through the next two games, neither of them stopping to claim any sort of affection from Ryoma and by the time they began to wind down, the score was tied and both boys were panting.
With a quick glance in Ryoma’s direction, Aoi rested his racket against his shoulder and made his way toward the net. Momo lowered his own racket, gazing at the other boy across the net in confusion. “What are you doing, Aoi? We got a tie to break.”
Aoi shook his head and held out his hand to Momo. “Ne, Momoshiro-kun, it was a good game. I’ve got nothing to prove.”
Momo cocked his head as he clasped hands with the other boy. “Does this mean you forfeit Echizen?”
Aoi laughed, squeezing Momo’s hand too tight. “Not a chance. But I guess if I had to lose him to anyone, it’d be you.”
Momo smiled, turning to smile at Ryoma, still holding tight to Aoi’s hand. “You hear that, Echizen? Your boyfriend’s welshing on our bet.”
Making his way to the court, sleeves pushed up and hat tugged down, Ryoma joined Aoi, taking his place at his side. Momo was glad he couldn’t see the little brat’s eyes.
“I don’t hear you demanding a tiebreak,” he returned, voice light.
Momo laughed, letting go of Aoi’s hand to tug Ryoma’s cap down to cover his face. “Smart mouthed brat.”
Adjusting his cap, Ryoma smirked up at him even as Aoi draped an arm around his shoulders. “Good game, Momo-senpai.”
Side by side they stood, Ryoma almost leaning against Aoi, as Momo retrieved his bag and put his racket away. “Well. I guess I’ll head out then.” Shouldering his bag, he lifted his chin in acknowledgement. “Behave yourself, Echizen. I’ll see you Monday.”
Rolling his eyes at Momo’s words, he tilted his head when Aoi began to stroke the back of his neck idly. “You still picking me up?”
Momo began to back away, small smile hovering on his lips. “You bet. I can’t let a little runt like you run around by yourself.”
He turned, taking his leave with Aoi’s laugh at his back. He didn’t have to look back to know that Ryoma was muttering something unflattering under his breath. He didn’t want to look back because he didn’t want to see the closeness that Ryoma allowed Aoi.
Momo made his way along the sidewalk, kicking at stray pebbles and wondering when he would be able to put a name to the odd way he felt. He wasn’t angry, wasn’t really upset. Truthfully, he felt calm. Or maybe he mistaking calm for numb.
Either way, he wasn’t certain what he was supposed to feel, so he decided not to dwell on it overmuch. It occurred to him, after he’d put about four blocks between himself and his best friend, that Aoi probably could have beaten him if he’d really wanted to. He supposed that Rokkaku’s captain was an okay sort.
He was still a bastard, though.
So busy trying to silence his charitable thoughts with more enjoyable, unsportsmanlike ones, Momo didn’t hear the car slowing behind him. It wasn’t until the long, elegant automobile pulled up to the curb just a few feet in front of him that he stopped.
Hefting his bag, he stepped forward to get a better look, halting again when the tinted window lowered. Blinking his confusion, he cocked his head when he realized who was inside the car.
“It’s a bit sad that you’re skulking along the sidewalk all by yourself, na, Momoshiro?”
Momo scowled. He really didn’t need this shit today. “What the hell do you want? You slumming or something?”
Resting his elbow on the open window, Atobe Keigo offered Momo a faint smile. “Something like that. Would you like a ride?”
Momo snorted. “From you? I’d rather crawl home, thanks.”
Attempting to appear surprised, Atobe brushed a strand of hair away from his eyes and favored Momo with a long, assessing gaze. “Such forceful sentiments, Momoshiro-kun. I might almost begin to think that you dislike me.”
“You might almost be correct, in that case, Atobe,” Momo returned, wondering why in the hell he was standing there arguing with this smug bastard. “Anyway, I don’t have a direct line to Tezuka, so you’re wasting your time.”
So saying, he turned and began to head toward the stoplight, hoping like hell there would be no traffic coming. He didn’t want to make any more small talk with Atobe Fucking Keigo.
As luck would have it, however, Atobe’s car simply eased along beside him, slow enough that Atobe could still talk at him and not outrun him. “Come now, Momoshiro-kun. You’re a ways from your side of town and you look quite fatigued. Why not let me take you home?”
Momo didn’t look at him. “I’m sweaty and I stink. I wouldn’t want to dirty up your nice leather interior.”
Atobe scoffed. “The interior isn’t leather. You know what leather is like in the summertime, Momoshiro-kun.”
“Well, I don’t give a crap. Leave me alone and go harass somebody else. I’m not in the mood.”
To Momo’s surprise, the car stopped and, behind him, he heard a car door open and close. He kept walking.
Expecting to see a liveried driver waltzing alongside him when he glanced over, he was shocked to meet Atobe’s cool gaze. “What are you doing?!”
Atobe shrugged lightly. “Walking with you. What does it look like?”
Momo frowned. “Are you deaf? I told you to leave me alone, didn’t I?”
Turning, Atobe cut Momo off, moving to stand in front of him. “Humor me.” He jerked his head toward the waiting limo and Momo searched his gaze - there was no trace of mockery there. “Let me give you a ride.”
Momo considered him warily. “What’s in it for you?”
With the barest, maddening, single most arousing smile Momo had ever seen in his life, Atobe swept him with a slow, lingering glance. “The pleasure of your company?”
At Momo’s hesitant look, Atobe tilted his head, trailed one fingertip down the side of Momo’s bare arm. “I’ve always quite admired your…form…Momoshiro-kun. Did you know?”
He smiled then. “Come on, Momoshiro. I’m not going to bite you.”
In spite of himself, Momo smiled slightly. “You’re such an asshole.”
With one hand at Momo’s lower back, Atobe guided him toward the car, standing close enough that Momo could smell the rich, expensive scent of his cologne. His voice, so close to Momo’s ear, was low and cultured. Momo found himself responding despite his determination to the contrary.
“Careful. You’ll hurt my feelings,” Atobe warned, voice redolent with amusement. He waited until Momo had slid into the backseat before following him.
“Hey!” Momo protested. “You don’t need to sit on top of me - gimme some room, dammit!”
Atobe rolled his eyes and raised the window again. “Relax. I said I wouldn’t bite, didn’t I?”
Momo didn’t answer, and eyed Atobe warily. “I don’t trust you.”
Closing the distance between them, Atobe backed Momo against the opposite door, eyes intent even while he smiled so prettily. “Smart boy,” he allowed.
So close now that Momo could see the flecks of blue in Atobe’s dark eyes, he parted his lips to protest when Atobe shifted closer, reached around him - and locked the doors.
End