Note: Written in the two minutes I've had today between homework assignments. Tenipuri is so irresistible.
Ryoma was a firm believer in the straightforward, no-nonsense approach. Well, sort of. He’d become a bigger proponent of that approach after the fiasco involving Fuji, a kitten, Oishi and Kikumaru, and a robe that had somehow been stolen from Atobe’s closet. Fuji had found the entire thing rather amusing, but it had raised more chaos than Ryoma preferred to encounter.
So, the straight approach. Although in this particular situation, “straight” probably wasn’t the right word.
“Buchou,” Ryoma said, directly after returning a serve.
“Yes, Echizen?” Tezuka hit the ball back with a forehand volley.
“If I asked you to, would you kiss me?” Ryoma sliced the ball past Tezuka’s right side. Tezuka’s arm whipped out and he hit it with the edge of the racquet. Ryoma watched the lob and squinted his eyes against the sunlight.
“No.” Tezuka’s answer was firm; the fact that he’d allowed himself to hit a lob like this one was slightly less so.
“Ha!” Ryoma smashed the ball, and it blew past Tezuka to hit the fence with a resounding metallic ring. “That’s the game,” he announced, adjusting the brim of his cap. “But, buchou, if I posed like this and then asked you to kiss me, would you do that?” Ryoma jutted his hip forward, one hand on that hip and the other, the one with the racket, behind his head. Then he tried a sultry pout.
“Who taught you that?” Tezuka asked.
“No one,” Ryoma lied, with a perfect poker face.
Tezuka looked skeptical.
“Fine, Fuji-senpai,” Ryoma said breezily. “But he was really just showing Eiji-senpai, not me.”
“I’m sure he was,” Tezuka muttered, not sounding as though he really believed that. Of course, Ryoma didn’t really believe it either, because Fuji had winked at him when he’d been striking that pose.
“What would it take for you to kiss me?” Ryoma wanted to know.
Tezuka closed his eyes, looking as though he was a monk who had been sworn to silence and was now in agony because he couldn’t tell the secret that would end up saving the entire city from being ransacked. “I don’t know, Echizen.”
“Oh.” Ryoma thought for a minute. Then he walked up to the net. “Buchou, come here.”
Tezuka sighed. But he walked up to the net so that he and Ryoma were facing each other. “What is it?” Ryoma noticed that Tezuka was holding his racquet a bit more tightly than necessary. His knuckles were turning white. Ryoma nodded to himself in satisfaction.
“Would you stop me if I kissed you?” Ryoma inquired.
“No.” Tezuka’s answer was immediate. “How could I stop you?”
“Well, okay then,” Ryoma said, smirking. He put a hand on the net and stood up on his toes and was just tall enough to reach Tezuka’s lips with his own.
He was going to pull away, but then the hand of Tezuka’s that didn’t have a racquet was resting on his lower back and bringing them closer together. Ryoma’s eyes widened as Tezuka leaned over and deepened the kiss, running his tongue gently along Ryoma’s lower lip and then along Ryoma’s tongue.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t kiss me,” Ryoma said, grinning. Tezuka still didn’t let go, which was good because Ryoma wouldn’t have let him anyway.
Tezuka raised an eyebrow and stated, “I never said that I wouldn’t kiss you back.”