[PoT] Futari ga Futari de, PG, Humor/Romance, FujiRyo [xmas05]
Christmas Drabbles 2005
For: wakkawoo & forochel
Pairing: Fuji/Ryoma [Prince of Tennis]
Theme: 30_kisses #8 our own world
ふたりがふたりで
Futari ga Futari de
The Two of Us
“Fuji-senpai?” Ryoma’s voice was muffled.
Fuji gave the sleeping bag a bemused look, Ryoma having completely scrunched himself up within. “Echizen,” he said, leaning over and lifting up the open edge, ignoring the curiously out of character “meep” it elicited. “What are you doing?” He peered inside and then paused. “It appears you have no clothing on,” he commented neutrally after a moment.
“Fuji-senpai is observant,” was Ryoma’s dry reply. He poked his head out of the sleeping bag, hair ruffled, and glanced at the older boy. “Could you ask Momo-senpai to give me my clothes back?”
Fuji’s eyes narrowed. “And why does Momoshiro have your clothes?” he asked, voice deceptively mild.
“Fuji-senpai,” Ryoma muttered, stressing the honorific as a reminder. Then contrary to his own warning, he relaxed his guard, rolling over onto his stomach and scooting forward until he’d propped himself up on his forearms. Fuji ran his eyes briefly over all the skin displayed, from the lightly tanned back to the darker brown on the arms, and frowned.
“Ryoma-”
“We’re in a tent made of plastic cloth not even a fourth of an inch thick,” Ryoma interrupted him, scowling. “Less than a meter away from two other tents occupied by nosy teammates. Anything else you’d like to say?”
Fuji considered and for a moment there was nothing but the sound of crickets chirping in the cool night outside…and the chattering of the other boys in nearby tents, telling jokes and complaining about the heat or a particularly loud stomach rumble which Ryoma easily identified as Momoshiro’s. His attention jerked back to Fuji when warm fingers pressed against his spine, stroking, and turned to see Fuji leveling a look at him.
“Why does Momoshiro have your clothes, Echizen?” he asked.
Ryoma shrugged. “Strip poker,” he said flatly. “What else?”
He didn’t think he’d ever seen those blue eyes quite so murderous.
“I had to run back from his and Eiji-senpai’s tent stark naked,” he offered, watching Fuji’s eyes darken further. Then he added, carelessly, “You were with buchou.”
Ah, thought Fuji. That explained a lot. He settled back into his own sleeping back, sitting cross-legged and eyeing the first-year on display before him. Those golden eyes were trained on him now, challenging and a touch defensive. “I didn’t know you were so terrible at poker…Echizen,” he murmured, smiling slightly. “Remind me to teach you sometime so you won’t lose so abysmally to Momo and Eiji next time, ne? In the meantime,” he leaned over to his overnight bag and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, “I’ll just lend you my clothes.”
Ryoma eyed him warily. Then he shrugged. “Whatever.” Taking the clothes, he slipped the too-large shirt over his head, tugging it down to cover his hips as he wiggled into the shorts-elastic-banded and so were a decent fit. Fuji didn’t have the decency to look away, that aloof smile on his face as he watched Ryoma clothe himself.
“Ryoma,” he said when the younger boy had covered the essential bits, reaching out and snagging Ryoma’s bare ankle and pulling it towards him. Ryoma made a muffled sound of protest but, glaring, let himself be dragged to Fuji’s side.
Fuji’s smile sharpened but the look in his eyes…softened slightly. He stroked the side of Ryoma’s face gently. “I never took you for the jealous type, Ryoma,” he whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss high on Ryoma’s left cheekbone. “Tezuka and I were just talking, you know that.”
Tensing, Ryoma squirmed away slightly. “I know,” he muttered. He flashed Fuji a disgruntled look. “But-“ he stopped. “Less than a meter away,” he pointed out again, switching tactics, though Fuji was tugging him closer again and he wasn’t putting up any fight. He sighed as Fuji’s mouth covered his and shifted closer, feeling Fuji’s shirt slide over his back, and giving into the world Fuji had created for the two of them inside their tent. No Momo-senpai. No buchou.
Just…them.
--
Posted: 12.24.2005
For: wakkawoo & forochel
Pairing: Fuji/Ryoma [Prince of Tennis]
Theme: 30_kisses #8 our own world
ふたりがふたりで
Futari ga Futari de
The Two of Us
“Fuji-senpai?” Ryoma’s voice was muffled.
Fuji gave the sleeping bag a bemused look, Ryoma having completely scrunched himself up within. “Echizen,” he said, leaning over and lifting up the open edge, ignoring the curiously out of character “meep” it elicited. “What are you doing?” He peered inside and then paused. “It appears you have no clothing on,” he commented neutrally after a moment.
“Fuji-senpai is observant,” was Ryoma’s dry reply. He poked his head out of the sleeping bag, hair ruffled, and glanced at the older boy. “Could you ask Momo-senpai to give me my clothes back?”
Fuji’s eyes narrowed. “And why does Momoshiro have your clothes?” he asked, voice deceptively mild.
“Fuji-senpai,” Ryoma muttered, stressing the honorific as a reminder. Then contrary to his own warning, he relaxed his guard, rolling over onto his stomach and scooting forward until he’d propped himself up on his forearms. Fuji ran his eyes briefly over all the skin displayed, from the lightly tanned back to the darker brown on the arms, and frowned.
“Ryoma-”
“We’re in a tent made of plastic cloth not even a fourth of an inch thick,” Ryoma interrupted him, scowling. “Less than a meter away from two other tents occupied by nosy teammates. Anything else you’d like to say?”
Fuji considered and for a moment there was nothing but the sound of crickets chirping in the cool night outside…and the chattering of the other boys in nearby tents, telling jokes and complaining about the heat or a particularly loud stomach rumble which Ryoma easily identified as Momoshiro’s. His attention jerked back to Fuji when warm fingers pressed against his spine, stroking, and turned to see Fuji leveling a look at him.
“Why does Momoshiro have your clothes, Echizen?” he asked.
Ryoma shrugged. “Strip poker,” he said flatly. “What else?”
He didn’t think he’d ever seen those blue eyes quite so murderous.
“I had to run back from his and Eiji-senpai’s tent stark naked,” he offered, watching Fuji’s eyes darken further. Then he added, carelessly, “You were with buchou.”
Ah, thought Fuji. That explained a lot. He settled back into his own sleeping back, sitting cross-legged and eyeing the first-year on display before him. Those golden eyes were trained on him now, challenging and a touch defensive. “I didn’t know you were so terrible at poker…Echizen,” he murmured, smiling slightly. “Remind me to teach you sometime so you won’t lose so abysmally to Momo and Eiji next time, ne? In the meantime,” he leaned over to his overnight bag and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, “I’ll just lend you my clothes.”
Ryoma eyed him warily. Then he shrugged. “Whatever.” Taking the clothes, he slipped the too-large shirt over his head, tugging it down to cover his hips as he wiggled into the shorts-elastic-banded and so were a decent fit. Fuji didn’t have the decency to look away, that aloof smile on his face as he watched Ryoma clothe himself.
“Ryoma,” he said when the younger boy had covered the essential bits, reaching out and snagging Ryoma’s bare ankle and pulling it towards him. Ryoma made a muffled sound of protest but, glaring, let himself be dragged to Fuji’s side.
Fuji’s smile sharpened but the look in his eyes…softened slightly. He stroked the side of Ryoma’s face gently. “I never took you for the jealous type, Ryoma,” he whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss high on Ryoma’s left cheekbone. “Tezuka and I were just talking, you know that.”
Tensing, Ryoma squirmed away slightly. “I know,” he muttered. He flashed Fuji a disgruntled look. “But-“ he stopped. “Less than a meter away,” he pointed out again, switching tactics, though Fuji was tugging him closer again and he wasn’t putting up any fight. He sighed as Fuji’s mouth covered his and shifted closer, feeling Fuji’s shirt slide over his back, and giving into the world Fuji had created for the two of them inside their tent. No Momo-senpai. No buchou.
Just…them.
--
Posted: 12.24.2005