[PoT] Unrivaled, PG, Romance, FujiRyo
For darkeyedwolf.
30_kisses theme: #16 invincible; unrivaled
Unrivaled
Prince of Tennis, FujiRyo, PG, 533 words
Ryoma knows his place in Fuji's eyes.
Unrivaled
by meitachi
Fuji touched Tezuka a lot, Ryoma noticed, and was always standing beside him. He supposed it was to be expected, as Fuji was naturally a rather touchy-feely type of person, though in a much more subdued, constrained way than, say, Kikumaru-senpai. Still, sometimes Ryoma thought it was rather…excessive. Was it really necessary to rest a hand on buchou’s shoulder when pointing out some observation on Kawamura-senpai and Momo-senpai’s practice match? Was it necessary to bump hips when leaning in to glance at the training schedule spread across the desk? Ryoma thought not, but maybe it was just him. He really had no use for these kinds of thoughts, anyway, as they had no bearing on his tennis or on his relationship with Fuji.
It had never been Tezuka that Ryoma had felt threatened by. He knew their captain would never take Fuji’s touches out of the context of an easy friendship and even had Fuji’s touches been meant as overtures-well, Ryoma would serve tennis balls at his head for awhile-Tezuka certainly would not respond to them. As far as anyone could tell, Tezuka had very little use for relationships of the romantic sense, too engrossed in academics and overseeing the club.
Ryoma, however nonchalant about his boyfriend and his captain’s closeness, had always been set on edge by the girls. Girls from Fuji’s class, girls from the photography club, girls from the girls’ tennis team (Ryoma had been surprised to learn of its existence); girls who admired his tennis, his looks, his intelligence, his soft way of speaking… They annoyed Ryoma to no end, until he wanted to do nothing more than pelt them with stray tennis balls and tell them to back off because Fuji Syuusuke was spoken for.
He’d never really taken himself for being possessive before but Ryoma saw it more as being territorial. He wasn’t saying that Fuji was his, exclusively, because clearly that would be dumb; Fuji had obligations and ties to his family, to the other regulars, to his friends and classmates and, well, Ryoma was just saying that he didn’t like to share. There was a difference. Probably.
He just always found himself irked, gripping his racket too tight, when he saw Fuji coming to afternoon practice in the company of one of those girls, smiling and chatting perfectly normally as if totally unaware that the girl was making eyes at him.
Inui observed that the power behind Ryoma’s serves during those practices was notably higher.
Someday, Ryoma decided, he’d have to tell Fuji to stop leading those girls on. They both knew that the long-haired, big-breasted, prettily made-up sweet things who insinuated themselves into Fuji’s company had no chance. Ryoma was the unrivaled recipient of Fuji’s sometimes too-expressive affection, blue eyes bright with mischief, hands slipping up under a tennis jersey, Oishi sighing with embarrassed exasperation as he looked away discreetly.
It was really annoying how those girls thought they had a chance, Ryoma would tell Fuji, biting his ear, arms wound around the other boy’s neck. They ought to be set straight.
Fuji agreed, lips trailing along the curve of Ryoma’s shoulder. But Ryoma’s serves were always so improved on those days.
--
Started/Finished: 02.09.06
Don't mock my great titling choice! It was truly inspired, I tell you, by lack of sleep and writer's block...
30_kisses theme: #16 invincible; unrivaled
Unrivaled
Prince of Tennis, FujiRyo, PG, 533 words
Ryoma knows his place in Fuji's eyes.
Unrivaled
by meitachi
Fuji touched Tezuka a lot, Ryoma noticed, and was always standing beside him. He supposed it was to be expected, as Fuji was naturally a rather touchy-feely type of person, though in a much more subdued, constrained way than, say, Kikumaru-senpai. Still, sometimes Ryoma thought it was rather…excessive. Was it really necessary to rest a hand on buchou’s shoulder when pointing out some observation on Kawamura-senpai and Momo-senpai’s practice match? Was it necessary to bump hips when leaning in to glance at the training schedule spread across the desk? Ryoma thought not, but maybe it was just him. He really had no use for these kinds of thoughts, anyway, as they had no bearing on his tennis or on his relationship with Fuji.
It had never been Tezuka that Ryoma had felt threatened by. He knew their captain would never take Fuji’s touches out of the context of an easy friendship and even had Fuji’s touches been meant as overtures-well, Ryoma would serve tennis balls at his head for awhile-Tezuka certainly would not respond to them. As far as anyone could tell, Tezuka had very little use for relationships of the romantic sense, too engrossed in academics and overseeing the club.
Ryoma, however nonchalant about his boyfriend and his captain’s closeness, had always been set on edge by the girls. Girls from Fuji’s class, girls from the photography club, girls from the girls’ tennis team (Ryoma had been surprised to learn of its existence); girls who admired his tennis, his looks, his intelligence, his soft way of speaking… They annoyed Ryoma to no end, until he wanted to do nothing more than pelt them with stray tennis balls and tell them to back off because Fuji Syuusuke was spoken for.
He’d never really taken himself for being possessive before but Ryoma saw it more as being territorial. He wasn’t saying that Fuji was his, exclusively, because clearly that would be dumb; Fuji had obligations and ties to his family, to the other regulars, to his friends and classmates and, well, Ryoma was just saying that he didn’t like to share. There was a difference. Probably.
He just always found himself irked, gripping his racket too tight, when he saw Fuji coming to afternoon practice in the company of one of those girls, smiling and chatting perfectly normally as if totally unaware that the girl was making eyes at him.
Inui observed that the power behind Ryoma’s serves during those practices was notably higher.
Someday, Ryoma decided, he’d have to tell Fuji to stop leading those girls on. They both knew that the long-haired, big-breasted, prettily made-up sweet things who insinuated themselves into Fuji’s company had no chance. Ryoma was the unrivaled recipient of Fuji’s sometimes too-expressive affection, blue eyes bright with mischief, hands slipping up under a tennis jersey, Oishi sighing with embarrassed exasperation as he looked away discreetly.
It was really annoying how those girls thought they had a chance, Ryoma would tell Fuji, biting his ear, arms wound around the other boy’s neck. They ought to be set straight.
Fuji agreed, lips trailing along the curve of Ryoma’s shoulder. But Ryoma’s serves were always so improved on those days.
--
Started/Finished: 02.09.06
Don't mock my great titling choice! It was truly inspired, I tell you, by lack of sleep and writer's block...