script log; Tezuka and Ryoma
Takes place Tuesday morning (02/06). Ryoma gets up before dawn and is treated to breakfast and Tezuka in a pink frilly apron. Um. UST that doesn't count since they don't get it, and unusual levels of dumb follow.
Ryoma: ::wanders down to the kitchen only a few minutes later than he said he would, yawning and stumbling in through the doorway, blinking around for buchou::
Tezuka: *has already been up for an hour, preparing a proper Western-style breakfast, and is busy in the kitchen. He has already changed into his shorts and polo for tennis, but is also wearing the frilly pink apron he and Ryoma agreed upon on Friday*
Ryoma: ::blinks again, realizing that buchou didn't just get up like he was thinking, and catches sight of both the food and the apron and cracks a sleep grin:: Hey, Buchou. You really went all out. ::is desperately trying not to... die or something over the apron, but it's pretty... something. he'll figure out what it is when his brain clicks into gear::
Tezuka: *glances over his shoulder from where he is at the stove* Good morning. *turns back to the skillet in front of him* How do you take your eggs?
Ryoma: Wow... I get a choice? Uh... scrambled, I guess. ::finds the table and sits in a chair, yawning again:: S'not bad. ::is mostly referring to the apron-y... view::
Tezuka: *begins on the eggs for Ryoma, turning a bit so he can focus both on cooking and on talking to Ryoma* Hm? *glances briefly down at himself* Thank you.
Ryoma: ::colors just a little, though he doesn't know why, and shrugs with that lopsided grin still on his face:: Well, I mean, you look all.... domestic or somethin'. Kinda... reminds me of Nanako...
Tezuka: ...*turns back to the eggs, hiding that he, too, is blushing faintly* Domestic is suited to me, I presume.
Ryoma: Heh. ::shrugs:: Well, I mean, s'not a *bad* thing. I mean... well, I mean, s'good to know how to cook. An' stuff.
Tezuka: *puts the eggs on a plate along with some bacon and toast* This is hardly gourmet cooking. *takes the plate over to Ryoma* Would you like something to drink? Milk, perhaps?
Ryoma: ... Well, s'better than I c'n manage at... whatever time it is right now. ::takes the plate with a nod of thanks:: Milk's okay, yeah. Thanks. ::looks at the plate:: This looks... really good.
Tezuka: Of course. *pours some milk for Ryoma and sets it on the table - then goes to get his own plate - rice from the rice cooker and eggs over-easy - and takes a seat beside Ryoma; he holds up his glass as if to toast* Here is to hoping it tastes as good as it looks.
Ryoma: ::chuckles a little - half at the motion, and half at Buchou still it... *that* and nods, raising his glass:: I bet it does - you can't really mess this stuff up, Buchou. Not in an apron like that, anyway. ::small snicker-grin::
Tezuka: *looks imperious, takes a drink of his milk* I can't be careless when the bar is raised.
Ryoma: ::snickers again a bit:: I guess not. ::takes a bite:: ... Yeah, this is really good. ::eats his breakfast slowly a minute:: Y'know, you didn't hafta do this. ::glances at the apron:: Any of it. ::snicker:: S'appreciated.
Tezuka: *looks a bit surprised, but just shakes his head* It's nothing. I wanted to. *pauses* Well, perhaps "want" is not the proper word per the apron...
Ryoma: ::laughs:: Well... you still did it. At least that part. ::grins:: It really does look good on you, Buchou. What's your manager gonna say?
Tezuka: *small smirk* "Tezuka-san, this is revenge for the dolls, isn't it?" *smugly eats his eggs* If it looks good on me, she has no room to complain.
Ryoma: ::laughs:: Heh, well, that is true. I got no complaints from over here. ::is very interested in his eggs a moment:: Well, at least you didn't get your tennis clothes dirty, right?
Tezuka: Precisely. Perhaps I ought to wear it more often. *wonders a bit at Ryoma's behavior, but dismisses it* It was too early when I woke up to entertain the thought of having to change after breakfast.
Ryoma: Heh. Well, you'd better be careful f'you do. Your fanmail might explode. ::pauses:: I might wanna borrow it sometime.
Tezuka: ...? Are you in need of... *pauses* Never mind.
Ryoma: ::sideways glance:: ... Am I in need of what?
Tezuka: ...More fanmail. *pokes at his rice with his chopsticks*
Ryoma: Eh? Oh! No - no, not for me. But I c'n think of someone who might. ::smug little grin, eats his toast::
Tezuka: *shakes his head, eats some of his rice, properly* It might look sexy on you.
Ryoma: ::blinks:: Heh. I didn't think of wearin' it myself. ::hides his slight blush in a drink of milk:: Maybe I should.
Tezuka: *glances from his food to Ryoma, then back and continues eating quietly* ...Your fanmail inbox would burst at the seams.
Ryoma: Heh. Yeah... well. F'I ever need an ego boost then, maybe. ::eats some of his bacon:: I should prolly refrain unless it's an emergency, though
Tezuka: *raises an eyebrow* Emergency? What sort of emergency calls for a frilly pink apron?
Ryoma: ::snickers:: I dunno. I guess the kind during which I'll definitely know it? ::snickers again;: Maybe f'all your other clothes go missing, or something.
Tezuka: ...Echizen. As a personal favor, if all of your clothes go missing, please borrow something... *pauses, looking for the right words* of more substance.
Ryoma: ::snickers:: Okay, okay. I wasn't sayin' all *my* clothes would go missing, anyway. An' this is purely hypothetical, anyway, right?
Tezuka: Purely. *amused look*
Ryoma: ::shrugs innocently:: I mean, I don't leave my clothes all over the floor, anyway.
Tezuka: Of course not. *barely resisting a wicked smile, puts his glass to his lips and takes another drink* That would be foolish, if you wished to keep them.
Ryoma: ::nods:: Yeah. Exactly. ::finishes his bacon, sets in on the last piece of toast:: ... So I gotta actually get up an' play a game of tennis after this, right? ::he loves tennis, but it's so early...::
Tezuka: No, you must warm up and run a few laps around the court and then play a game of tennis. *finishes off the last of his rice*
Ryoma: ::groans:: Well, a few s'less than ten, right?
Tezuka: *doesn't respond, drinking more of his milk*
Ryoma: ... M'gonna take that as a yes, y'know. ::reluctantly gets up from the table, taking both his and tezuka's plate to the sink to let them soak - he'll wash them when they get in from practicing::
Tezuka: I can always make it twenty. *also stands, taking his glass over to where Ryoma stands at the sink* I would hate for your stamina to suffer.
Ryoma: ::puts on his best pout:: But Buchou, it's... still single-digits in the morning. Isn't it good for my stamina that I'm just up this early?
Tezuka: *has a very hard time resisting that pout, but refuses to relent* If I'm going to recommend you for my team, I expect you to be in your top form.
Ryoma: ::pauses a moment, then grins:: Fine, fine. Twenty, but you didn't say more'n that. ::stretches and yawns and cocks his head to the door:: Guess we better get started?
Tezuka: *unties the apron from behind his back, taking it over to his tennis bag and putting it inside* Let's do warm-ups first so the food can settle, then laps. *picks the bag up and swings it over his shoulder*
Ryoma:: ::nods:: Yeah, okay. ::picks his tennis bag up from just outside the doorway, where he dropped it when he came downstairs:: Was a good breakfast. Thanks.
Tezuka: If I did not think you would grumble at me, I'd ask to do this more often.
Ryoma: ::grins:: Yeah, well... maybe once in a while. F'I get breakfast. ::yawns again:: But not too often. ::small grumble::
Tezuka: ... *small smile* It is worth cooking in a frilly pink apron to have this time. *adjusts his bag on his shoulder* Come; the sun should be rising.
Ryoma: ::small grin, until he hears the bit about the sun and shakes his head:: Oh, good. We'll be able to *see* the ball. You're insane, Buchou.
Tezuka: Crazy begets crazy. *heads out without another word*
Ryoma: I'll be sure to send you my therapy bills. ::follows him, yawning again::
I was thinking it would be fun to open this post up to fanmail reactions to this whole thing playing out on TV; give Ryoma and Tezuka the chance to respond (or not respond), and just for the heck of it.
Ryoma: ::wanders down to the kitchen only a few minutes later than he said he would, yawning and stumbling in through the doorway, blinking around for buchou::
Tezuka: *has already been up for an hour, preparing a proper Western-style breakfast, and is busy in the kitchen. He has already changed into his shorts and polo for tennis, but is also wearing the frilly pink apron he and Ryoma agreed upon on Friday*
Ryoma: ::blinks again, realizing that buchou didn't just get up like he was thinking, and catches sight of both the food and the apron and cracks a sleep grin:: Hey, Buchou. You really went all out. ::is desperately trying not to... die or something over the apron, but it's pretty... something. he'll figure out what it is when his brain clicks into gear::
Tezuka: *glances over his shoulder from where he is at the stove* Good morning. *turns back to the skillet in front of him* How do you take your eggs?
Ryoma: Wow... I get a choice? Uh... scrambled, I guess. ::finds the table and sits in a chair, yawning again:: S'not bad. ::is mostly referring to the apron-y... view::
Tezuka: *begins on the eggs for Ryoma, turning a bit so he can focus both on cooking and on talking to Ryoma* Hm? *glances briefly down at himself* Thank you.
Ryoma: ::colors just a little, though he doesn't know why, and shrugs with that lopsided grin still on his face:: Well, I mean, you look all.... domestic or somethin'. Kinda... reminds me of Nanako...
Tezuka: ...*turns back to the eggs, hiding that he, too, is blushing faintly* Domestic is suited to me, I presume.
Ryoma: Heh. ::shrugs:: Well, I mean, s'not a *bad* thing. I mean... well, I mean, s'good to know how to cook. An' stuff.
Tezuka: *puts the eggs on a plate along with some bacon and toast* This is hardly gourmet cooking. *takes the plate over to Ryoma* Would you like something to drink? Milk, perhaps?
Ryoma: ... Well, s'better than I c'n manage at... whatever time it is right now. ::takes the plate with a nod of thanks:: Milk's okay, yeah. Thanks. ::looks at the plate:: This looks... really good.
Tezuka: Of course. *pours some milk for Ryoma and sets it on the table - then goes to get his own plate - rice from the rice cooker and eggs over-easy - and takes a seat beside Ryoma; he holds up his glass as if to toast* Here is to hoping it tastes as good as it looks.
Ryoma: ::chuckles a little - half at the motion, and half at Buchou still it... *that* and nods, raising his glass:: I bet it does - you can't really mess this stuff up, Buchou. Not in an apron like that, anyway. ::small snicker-grin::
Tezuka: *looks imperious, takes a drink of his milk* I can't be careless when the bar is raised.
Ryoma: ::snickers again a bit:: I guess not. ::takes a bite:: ... Yeah, this is really good. ::eats his breakfast slowly a minute:: Y'know, you didn't hafta do this. ::glances at the apron:: Any of it. ::snicker:: S'appreciated.
Tezuka: *looks a bit surprised, but just shakes his head* It's nothing. I wanted to. *pauses* Well, perhaps "want" is not the proper word per the apron...
Ryoma: ::laughs:: Well... you still did it. At least that part. ::grins:: It really does look good on you, Buchou. What's your manager gonna say?
Tezuka: *small smirk* "Tezuka-san, this is revenge for the dolls, isn't it?" *smugly eats his eggs* If it looks good on me, she has no room to complain.
Ryoma: ::laughs:: Heh, well, that is true. I got no complaints from over here. ::is very interested in his eggs a moment:: Well, at least you didn't get your tennis clothes dirty, right?
Tezuka: Precisely. Perhaps I ought to wear it more often. *wonders a bit at Ryoma's behavior, but dismisses it* It was too early when I woke up to entertain the thought of having to change after breakfast.
Ryoma: Heh. Well, you'd better be careful f'you do. Your fanmail might explode. ::pauses:: I might wanna borrow it sometime.
Tezuka: ...? Are you in need of... *pauses* Never mind.
Ryoma: ::sideways glance:: ... Am I in need of what?
Tezuka: ...More fanmail. *pokes at his rice with his chopsticks*
Ryoma: Eh? Oh! No - no, not for me. But I c'n think of someone who might. ::smug little grin, eats his toast::
Tezuka: *shakes his head, eats some of his rice, properly* It might look sexy on you.
Ryoma: ::blinks:: Heh. I didn't think of wearin' it myself. ::hides his slight blush in a drink of milk:: Maybe I should.
Tezuka: *glances from his food to Ryoma, then back and continues eating quietly* ...Your fanmail inbox would burst at the seams.
Ryoma: Heh. Yeah... well. F'I ever need an ego boost then, maybe. ::eats some of his bacon:: I should prolly refrain unless it's an emergency, though
Tezuka: *raises an eyebrow* Emergency? What sort of emergency calls for a frilly pink apron?
Ryoma: ::snickers:: I dunno. I guess the kind during which I'll definitely know it? ::snickers again;: Maybe f'all your other clothes go missing, or something.
Tezuka: ...Echizen. As a personal favor, if all of your clothes go missing, please borrow something... *pauses, looking for the right words* of more substance.
Ryoma: ::snickers:: Okay, okay. I wasn't sayin' all *my* clothes would go missing, anyway. An' this is purely hypothetical, anyway, right?
Tezuka: Purely. *amused look*
Ryoma: ::shrugs innocently:: I mean, I don't leave my clothes all over the floor, anyway.
Tezuka: Of course not. *barely resisting a wicked smile, puts his glass to his lips and takes another drink* That would be foolish, if you wished to keep them.
Ryoma: ::nods:: Yeah. Exactly. ::finishes his bacon, sets in on the last piece of toast:: ... So I gotta actually get up an' play a game of tennis after this, right? ::he loves tennis, but it's so early...::
Tezuka: No, you must warm up and run a few laps around the court and then play a game of tennis. *finishes off the last of his rice*
Ryoma: ::groans:: Well, a few s'less than ten, right?
Tezuka: *doesn't respond, drinking more of his milk*
Ryoma: ... M'gonna take that as a yes, y'know. ::reluctantly gets up from the table, taking both his and tezuka's plate to the sink to let them soak - he'll wash them when they get in from practicing::
Tezuka: I can always make it twenty. *also stands, taking his glass over to where Ryoma stands at the sink* I would hate for your stamina to suffer.
Ryoma: ::puts on his best pout:: But Buchou, it's... still single-digits in the morning. Isn't it good for my stamina that I'm just up this early?
Tezuka: *has a very hard time resisting that pout, but refuses to relent* If I'm going to recommend you for my team, I expect you to be in your top form.
Ryoma: ::pauses a moment, then grins:: Fine, fine. Twenty, but you didn't say more'n that. ::stretches and yawns and cocks his head to the door:: Guess we better get started?
Tezuka: *unties the apron from behind his back, taking it over to his tennis bag and putting it inside* Let's do warm-ups first so the food can settle, then laps. *picks the bag up and swings it over his shoulder*
Ryoma:: ::nods:: Yeah, okay. ::picks his tennis bag up from just outside the doorway, where he dropped it when he came downstairs:: Was a good breakfast. Thanks.
Tezuka: If I did not think you would grumble at me, I'd ask to do this more often.
Ryoma: ::grins:: Yeah, well... maybe once in a while. F'I get breakfast. ::yawns again:: But not too often. ::small grumble::
Tezuka: ... *small smile* It is worth cooking in a frilly pink apron to have this time. *adjusts his bag on his shoulder* Come; the sun should be rising.
Ryoma: ::small grin, until he hears the bit about the sun and shakes his head:: Oh, good. We'll be able to *see* the ball. You're insane, Buchou.
Tezuka: Crazy begets crazy. *heads out without another word*
Ryoma: I'll be sure to send you my therapy bills. ::follows him, yawning again::
I was thinking it would be fun to open this post up to fanmail reactions to this whole thing playing out on TV; give Ryoma and Tezuka the chance to respond (or not respond), and just for the heck of it.