PoT: greater heights
For pillarchallenge. TezuRyo, high school-ish, PG, 440 words. Title is from the tagline to Genius 272. No spoilers.
greater heights
"Buchou?" Ryoma rolled over onto his stomach, propping his chin on his hands and staring at the wall. Tezuka's bedroom was about the same size as his, but the tidiness made it look bigger. Still, the poster dominated the room. "Why do you like climbing mountains?"
"I beg your pardon?" When Ryoma glanced to the side, Tezuka was giving him a puzzled look. It was an improvement on the exasperated expression, at least. Ryoma accepted the fact that Tezuka got more homework than he did, but waiting for him to finish it got boring fast. He was going to have to think up some way of distracting his father so that they could do this at his house; at least that way he could play games or something while he waited for Tezuka to get around to kissing him.
"Climbing mountains." Ryoma returned his attention to the poster, and the way the clouds and snow seemed to merge. It looked cold, and he wasn't sure why anyone would want to make the effort of climbing all the way up just to look at more mountains and clouds and snow. "It's not like you win anything."
"You don't always win anything in tennis, either." Ryoma could hear the soft scratch of pencil as Tezuka returned to his homework. "It's about pushing yourself, testing your limits."
That made sense, sort of. Ryoma could remember pushing his own limits on the court, and the sudden burst of adrenaline and power that came from breaking through them. "So the mountain's the opponent?" That just sounded weird; it wasn't like mountains could challenge you just by sitting there, was it?
"You are your own opponent." Tezuka's pencil paused, and Ryoma could feel eyes on him. "Do you want to come climbing with me?"
Ryoma shrugged awkwardly, and scrambled into a sitting position, looking across the room at Tezuka. He had a faint smudge of ink or pencil or something on the bridge of his nose, where he'd pushed his glasses up. "I'd rather play tennis. There's always someone to beat."
Tezuka sighed, a little, and laid his pencil down. Victory, Ryoma thought with the part of his mind that wasn't occupied with watching Tezuka walk across the room. "You don't want to measure yourself against mountains? What happens when you hit the top and there's no one left to defeat?"
"Hm…" Ryoma stretched up lazily, wiping the smudge off Tezuka's nose and smirking at his startled expression. From this position, it was easy to yank Tezuka down into his arms. "I'll always have you, buchou." Maybe even climbing mountains might be fun, if it was the two of them.
greater heights
"Buchou?" Ryoma rolled over onto his stomach, propping his chin on his hands and staring at the wall. Tezuka's bedroom was about the same size as his, but the tidiness made it look bigger. Still, the poster dominated the room. "Why do you like climbing mountains?"
"I beg your pardon?" When Ryoma glanced to the side, Tezuka was giving him a puzzled look. It was an improvement on the exasperated expression, at least. Ryoma accepted the fact that Tezuka got more homework than he did, but waiting for him to finish it got boring fast. He was going to have to think up some way of distracting his father so that they could do this at his house; at least that way he could play games or something while he waited for Tezuka to get around to kissing him.
"Climbing mountains." Ryoma returned his attention to the poster, and the way the clouds and snow seemed to merge. It looked cold, and he wasn't sure why anyone would want to make the effort of climbing all the way up just to look at more mountains and clouds and snow. "It's not like you win anything."
"You don't always win anything in tennis, either." Ryoma could hear the soft scratch of pencil as Tezuka returned to his homework. "It's about pushing yourself, testing your limits."
That made sense, sort of. Ryoma could remember pushing his own limits on the court, and the sudden burst of adrenaline and power that came from breaking through them. "So the mountain's the opponent?" That just sounded weird; it wasn't like mountains could challenge you just by sitting there, was it?
"You are your own opponent." Tezuka's pencil paused, and Ryoma could feel eyes on him. "Do you want to come climbing with me?"
Ryoma shrugged awkwardly, and scrambled into a sitting position, looking across the room at Tezuka. He had a faint smudge of ink or pencil or something on the bridge of his nose, where he'd pushed his glasses up. "I'd rather play tennis. There's always someone to beat."
Tezuka sighed, a little, and laid his pencil down. Victory, Ryoma thought with the part of his mind that wasn't occupied with watching Tezuka walk across the room. "You don't want to measure yourself against mountains? What happens when you hit the top and there's no one left to defeat?"
"Hm…" Ryoma stretched up lazily, wiping the smudge off Tezuka's nose and smirking at his startled expression. From this position, it was easy to yank Tezuka down into his arms. "I'll always have you, buchou." Maybe even climbing mountains might be fun, if it was the two of them.