PoT: Gravitation
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: TezuRyo
Rating: PG
Notes: Crack. Of the 'what happens when you get two opposing Tezuka Zones' variety. Because askdfgl 301 *_* No specific spoilers, though.
Gravitation
Ryoma was the first to notice, as always. It took another few balls before the murmuring began at the fence, "Is that…?" and "There it is." Maybe it was harder to see when you weren't the one facing it, having your shots pulled back to buchou's racquet when they should have been hitting the corner of the baseline. Senpai-tachi weren't blind.
Ryoma narrowed his eyes, focusing on the spin of the ball. Time to remind buchou - remind everyone - that he could do this too. Besides, he wanted to see if it was possible to take over the control of the Zone rather than just breaking through. It wasn't like he was going to get a better opportunity…
Annoyingly, it was harder than Ryoma had anticipated. It took two games for him to find the right balance between top and backspin, to realise that he was going to have to wrench back control of the ball with every stroke. Tezuka-buchou was good, but the way his eyes widened in interest as the first ball curved back into the sweet spot of Ryoma's racquet was better. Ryoma risked a grin, fixing his eyes on the ball.
"Echizen!" Oishi-senpai's worried voice almost startled him out of his concentration. "Be careful - we don't know what might happen!"
Ryoma scowled. He was going to win was what was going to happen. If he could just break buchou's hold on the game… He took a step forward, readjusting his position.
A loud, distracting argument was going on at the fence. Kikumaru-senpai was scoffing, and Momo-senpai was demanding to know what could possibly go wrong.
"There is no data on the effects of two opposing Zones. The outcome is unknown, but given the power of the technique…" Inui-senpai trailed off into muttering, and Ryoma took another step forward. For some reason Tezuka-buchou seemed a lot closer all of a sudden.
By the time he realised what was happening it was too late. Ryoma's eyes widened as his feet began to move on their own, propelling him towards the net. It was as though something had hold of his body and was pulling him inexorably forward with every ball. Instinctively, Ryoma dug in his heels, trying to resist the tug; he could see Tezuka-buchou doing the same on the other side of the net, but it didn't seem to be working. If this didn't stop soon they were going to smack right into each other, and buchou's face was already…
Oh.
Ryoma blinked, trying to adjust to this new position. He wasn't being pulled any more, but his face was buried in Tezuka-buchou's chest, their bodies pressed so tightly together that the net cord was an uncomfortable presence between them.
This was different. Ryoma tipped his head back, frowning up at Tezuka. "Did you know it was going to do that, buchou?"
Buchou was definitely looking exasperated, but there was something else hovering in the corners of his eyes that Ryoma couldn't read. "No one has tried this before."
"Oh." Ryoma was becoming uncomfortably aware that his arms had wrapped themselves around Tezuka's waist. Buchou's racquet arm was a warm weight across his shoulder-blades. "Can you let go?"
"No." Tezuka squeezed his eyes shut with the same long-suffering sigh that always greeted the weirder events of tennis club, looking as though he was developing a headache. Belatedly, Ryoma realised that senpai-tachi and the non-Regulars were still watching from the fence, a mass of gaping jaws in his peripheral vision. Almost immediately his body seemed to catch up with the situation, his face heating as though he might spontaneously combust. Instinctively, Ryoma tried to duck his head, ending up with his face buried in Tezuka-buchou's shoulder. Momo-senpai was going to laugh at him for weeks, and if his dad ever got hold of the story…
"Oishi." Tezuka sounded like he was about to assign laps to everyone who so much as looked at them. That was something of a comfort; maybe if he glared enough then Ryoma wouldn't have to be subjected to humiliation at the hands of his caring senpai. "Please assist us."
"E-eh?" Oishi-senpai sounded like he'd swallowed a live fish. Ryoma took a deep breath, part of his mind absently pointing out that buchou smelled nice, clean sweat and rain and autumn.
"We're stuck, senpai. Do something."
It took a good ten minutes to pry them apart, and Tezuka's expression got darker and darker with every unhelpful suggestion and smothered laugh. Ryoma scowled; they were close enough that the tension in buchou was making him uncomfortable too. Why did stupid things always have to happen to him?
In the end it was Fuji-senpai's suggestion that did the trick; once their racquets had been prised out of their hands, whatever force had been holding them together seemed to snap out of existence. Ryoma breathed a sigh of relief and took a hasty step back, flexing his arms to ensure that they were back under his control. Tezuka-buchou looked like he needed an aspirin.
"Heeeh." Momo-senpai dropped a heavy hand onto Ryoma's head, ruffling his hair. "That was interesting, huh?"
Inui-senpai was scribbling in his notebook. "It appears that two opposing Zones exert a strong force of attraction, similar to a gravitational pull… or possibly they attempt to merge… results are inconvenient to the players…"
Ryoma scowled, scooping his cap off the ground and cramming it onto his head so that he wouldn't have to look at buchou. Part of him was uncomfortably aware that it might have been a lot more interesting if no one had been watching. "Mada mada dane."
Ryoma kept his eyes fixed on his shoes as they met at the net. A week since what everyone was calling the Zone Incident, and it felt like his eyes were just as drawn to Tezuka-buchou as his body had been. His fingers itched to reach out and…
"Echizen?" Tezuka sounded concerned; Ryoma blinked, wondering if he'd missed something, and looked up hastily.
Every time their eyes met, it felt as though he was being tugged forward again, helpless in the grip of whatever had pulled them together. Ryoma swallowed, mesmerised, part of him aware that he was leaning forward and up…
Tezuka's mouth on his was hot and sweet and not-quite-controlled. Ryoma choked on a ragged sound, pressing urgently forward into the kiss as buchou's arms wrapped tight around him. The rest of the world faded away, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable at all.
"Whoa." Eiji was staring at something past him; Oishi blinked, then turned with a sinking feeling to see Tezuka and Echizen locked together over the net again.
"Oh…"
"That's intense, nya." Eiji was staring in a way that Oishi was sure was rude, but he couldn't quite bring himself to look away either. This was definitely a step up from last week. Sighing in resignation, he set his racquet back onto the bench.
"Come on - we should unstick them, quickly." Before they died of embarrassment, or possibly asphyxiation. Oh, Tezuka was not going to be happy at all; what had possessed Echizen to try the Zone again…?
"But Oishi." Eiji caught hold of his arm, tugging him back when he would have moved forward to deal with this new crisis. "They haven't started playing yet…"
Pairing: TezuRyo
Rating: PG
Notes: Crack. Of the 'what happens when you get two opposing Tezuka Zones' variety. Because askdfgl 301 *_* No specific spoilers, though.
Gravitation
Ryoma was the first to notice, as always. It took another few balls before the murmuring began at the fence, "Is that…?" and "There it is." Maybe it was harder to see when you weren't the one facing it, having your shots pulled back to buchou's racquet when they should have been hitting the corner of the baseline. Senpai-tachi weren't blind.
Ryoma narrowed his eyes, focusing on the spin of the ball. Time to remind buchou - remind everyone - that he could do this too. Besides, he wanted to see if it was possible to take over the control of the Zone rather than just breaking through. It wasn't like he was going to get a better opportunity…
Annoyingly, it was harder than Ryoma had anticipated. It took two games for him to find the right balance between top and backspin, to realise that he was going to have to wrench back control of the ball with every stroke. Tezuka-buchou was good, but the way his eyes widened in interest as the first ball curved back into the sweet spot of Ryoma's racquet was better. Ryoma risked a grin, fixing his eyes on the ball.
"Echizen!" Oishi-senpai's worried voice almost startled him out of his concentration. "Be careful - we don't know what might happen!"
Ryoma scowled. He was going to win was what was going to happen. If he could just break buchou's hold on the game… He took a step forward, readjusting his position.
A loud, distracting argument was going on at the fence. Kikumaru-senpai was scoffing, and Momo-senpai was demanding to know what could possibly go wrong.
"There is no data on the effects of two opposing Zones. The outcome is unknown, but given the power of the technique…" Inui-senpai trailed off into muttering, and Ryoma took another step forward. For some reason Tezuka-buchou seemed a lot closer all of a sudden.
By the time he realised what was happening it was too late. Ryoma's eyes widened as his feet began to move on their own, propelling him towards the net. It was as though something had hold of his body and was pulling him inexorably forward with every ball. Instinctively, Ryoma dug in his heels, trying to resist the tug; he could see Tezuka-buchou doing the same on the other side of the net, but it didn't seem to be working. If this didn't stop soon they were going to smack right into each other, and buchou's face was already…
Oh.
Ryoma blinked, trying to adjust to this new position. He wasn't being pulled any more, but his face was buried in Tezuka-buchou's chest, their bodies pressed so tightly together that the net cord was an uncomfortable presence between them.
This was different. Ryoma tipped his head back, frowning up at Tezuka. "Did you know it was going to do that, buchou?"
Buchou was definitely looking exasperated, but there was something else hovering in the corners of his eyes that Ryoma couldn't read. "No one has tried this before."
"Oh." Ryoma was becoming uncomfortably aware that his arms had wrapped themselves around Tezuka's waist. Buchou's racquet arm was a warm weight across his shoulder-blades. "Can you let go?"
"No." Tezuka squeezed his eyes shut with the same long-suffering sigh that always greeted the weirder events of tennis club, looking as though he was developing a headache. Belatedly, Ryoma realised that senpai-tachi and the non-Regulars were still watching from the fence, a mass of gaping jaws in his peripheral vision. Almost immediately his body seemed to catch up with the situation, his face heating as though he might spontaneously combust. Instinctively, Ryoma tried to duck his head, ending up with his face buried in Tezuka-buchou's shoulder. Momo-senpai was going to laugh at him for weeks, and if his dad ever got hold of the story…
"Oishi." Tezuka sounded like he was about to assign laps to everyone who so much as looked at them. That was something of a comfort; maybe if he glared enough then Ryoma wouldn't have to be subjected to humiliation at the hands of his caring senpai. "Please assist us."
"E-eh?" Oishi-senpai sounded like he'd swallowed a live fish. Ryoma took a deep breath, part of his mind absently pointing out that buchou smelled nice, clean sweat and rain and autumn.
"We're stuck, senpai. Do something."
It took a good ten minutes to pry them apart, and Tezuka's expression got darker and darker with every unhelpful suggestion and smothered laugh. Ryoma scowled; they were close enough that the tension in buchou was making him uncomfortable too. Why did stupid things always have to happen to him?
In the end it was Fuji-senpai's suggestion that did the trick; once their racquets had been prised out of their hands, whatever force had been holding them together seemed to snap out of existence. Ryoma breathed a sigh of relief and took a hasty step back, flexing his arms to ensure that they were back under his control. Tezuka-buchou looked like he needed an aspirin.
"Heeeh." Momo-senpai dropped a heavy hand onto Ryoma's head, ruffling his hair. "That was interesting, huh?"
Inui-senpai was scribbling in his notebook. "It appears that two opposing Zones exert a strong force of attraction, similar to a gravitational pull… or possibly they attempt to merge… results are inconvenient to the players…"
Ryoma scowled, scooping his cap off the ground and cramming it onto his head so that he wouldn't have to look at buchou. Part of him was uncomfortably aware that it might have been a lot more interesting if no one had been watching. "Mada mada dane."
Ryoma kept his eyes fixed on his shoes as they met at the net. A week since what everyone was calling the Zone Incident, and it felt like his eyes were just as drawn to Tezuka-buchou as his body had been. His fingers itched to reach out and…
"Echizen?" Tezuka sounded concerned; Ryoma blinked, wondering if he'd missed something, and looked up hastily.
Every time their eyes met, it felt as though he was being tugged forward again, helpless in the grip of whatever had pulled them together. Ryoma swallowed, mesmerised, part of him aware that he was leaning forward and up…
Tezuka's mouth on his was hot and sweet and not-quite-controlled. Ryoma choked on a ragged sound, pressing urgently forward into the kiss as buchou's arms wrapped tight around him. The rest of the world faded away, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable at all.
"Whoa." Eiji was staring at something past him; Oishi blinked, then turned with a sinking feeling to see Tezuka and Echizen locked together over the net again.
"Oh…"
"That's intense, nya." Eiji was staring in a way that Oishi was sure was rude, but he couldn't quite bring himself to look away either. This was definitely a step up from last week. Sighing in resignation, he set his racquet back onto the bench.
"Come on - we should unstick them, quickly." Before they died of embarrassment, or possibly asphyxiation. Oh, Tezuka was not going to be happy at all; what had possessed Echizen to try the Zone again…?
"But Oishi." Eiji caught hold of his arm, tugging him back when he would have moved forward to deal with this new crisis. "They haven't started playing yet…"