The more you ruv someone
For sharingank - a little MomoKai pre-slash fluff to soothe away a bad day. ♥
Momoshiro/Kaidoh | 788 words | PG | Prince of Tennis
Momo doesn't catch colds very often. Not even when he forgets to grab a coat on his way out of the door on cold mornings (or even that one time Ryoma had a cold and sneezed right on his head when hanging onto the back of Momo's bike. That was just really gross and Momo almost turned his bike around, Ryoma and all, to go back home and fix his hair).
But once or twice a year, on otherwise ordinary mornings like this one, Momo wakes up and finds that he can't breathe. A box of tissues, three glasses of orange juice and countless determined attempts to talk without his voice breaking into a raspy sort of squeak later, his mother was yelling up that stairs that he is going to be late for morning tennis practice and he had to stop and get ready, because he can't miss tennis for a stupid cold. He can't. He'll dunk smash the ball right into that stupid Mamushi's face, and he'll run circles around Echizen. Even if his head felt like it was going to explode.
He stuffed some tissues in his tennis bag as an afterthought.
"You look dead, Momo-senpai," Echizen says when Momo braked in front of his house.
"Brat," Momo shot back, "I just peddled extra-fast so we wouldn't be late. Get on, we've got to move." He tries very hard to speak normally, but his nose feels like someone shot a bottle of soda up each nostril and his throat is all scratchy.
Obviously his best efforts aren't good enough. Ryoma's eyebrows shoot up until they're hidden by the brim of his cap and his mouth twitches into a smile. "When did you catch a cold?"
"I don't know." He shifts as Ryoma climbs on the back of the bike. "Doesn't matter though. It'll be gone soon enough."
"Hnn," Ryoma replied noncommittally, gripping Momo's shoulders as Momo began to peddle again.
Practice seemed longer than usual and Momo's body ached all over by the end, making him even more miserable. Kikumaru-senpai couldn't stop laughing at him when Momo replied to a question from Tezuka-buchou, even when Oishi tried to shush him.
"I can't help it, nya," Kikumaru had replied, nearly bent in two with giggles. "You sound like a girl, Momo. And a frog. At the same time!"
None of the other regulars had been any help, either. Inui-senpai had tried to offer him some steaming, fizzy brownish-green juice, which had smelled a bit like the sweat socks Momo had found wedged in the back of his closet the previous week. Oishi-senpai had hovered anxiously, asking constant questions and loading him down with miniature packages of tissues.
He spent twice as long in the showers and dressed slowly, not caring that he was almost late for class. Stupid cold, anyhow. The steam from the shower had cleared his head a little, but his throat still hurt and he couldn't swallow or talk without feeling like someone was pouring fire down it. He sat on the bench with his head in his hands, massaging his temples slowly.
"Here."
Momo looked up and blinked at the small, square flying at his face before catching it out of reflex. He squinted at the label; it was a box of cough drops.
"They work well," Kaidoh said gruffly, "I'm sick of listening to your stupid girl voice."
Momo opened his mouth to shoot back an insult, but closed it again and winced. He instead opened the package and popped one of the small, yellow disc-shaped candies in his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue. It was strong and sent waves of cool numbness across his tongue and down his throat. It tasted like lemon. Not bad, not at all.
He looked back up at Kaidoh, who was leaning against the clubroom door, already in his school uniform. He was watching Momo back, with a strange, careful expression.
"Thanks, Mamushi." His throat already felt better, even just a little bit.
Kaidoh grunted. "Idiot," he said, "You'd better get better before the next tournament so we don't have to cover for you."
Momo bristled. "I'll be just fine," he said, wishing that his voice wouldn't break when he said that. He sounded like he was crying, "You worry about yourself." He braced his hands on the bench, ready to get up. If Kaidoh wanted a fight, he could bring it on. Momo really wanted to punch something.
Kaidoh just hissed at him and - Momo had to blink to make sure he wasn't hallucinating - smiled a little. "I'll see you later, Momoshiro."
Momoshiro watched him walk out of the door, crunching on the cough drop and deep in thought.
Cross-posted to momo_kai
Momoshiro/Kaidoh | 788 words | PG | Prince of Tennis
Momo doesn't catch colds very often. Not even when he forgets to grab a coat on his way out of the door on cold mornings (or even that one time Ryoma had a cold and sneezed right on his head when hanging onto the back of Momo's bike. That was just really gross and Momo almost turned his bike around, Ryoma and all, to go back home and fix his hair).
But once or twice a year, on otherwise ordinary mornings like this one, Momo wakes up and finds that he can't breathe. A box of tissues, three glasses of orange juice and countless determined attempts to talk without his voice breaking into a raspy sort of squeak later, his mother was yelling up that stairs that he is going to be late for morning tennis practice and he had to stop and get ready, because he can't miss tennis for a stupid cold. He can't. He'll dunk smash the ball right into that stupid Mamushi's face, and he'll run circles around Echizen. Even if his head felt like it was going to explode.
He stuffed some tissues in his tennis bag as an afterthought.
"You look dead, Momo-senpai," Echizen says when Momo braked in front of his house.
"Brat," Momo shot back, "I just peddled extra-fast so we wouldn't be late. Get on, we've got to move." He tries very hard to speak normally, but his nose feels like someone shot a bottle of soda up each nostril and his throat is all scratchy.
Obviously his best efforts aren't good enough. Ryoma's eyebrows shoot up until they're hidden by the brim of his cap and his mouth twitches into a smile. "When did you catch a cold?"
"I don't know." He shifts as Ryoma climbs on the back of the bike. "Doesn't matter though. It'll be gone soon enough."
"Hnn," Ryoma replied noncommittally, gripping Momo's shoulders as Momo began to peddle again.
Practice seemed longer than usual and Momo's body ached all over by the end, making him even more miserable. Kikumaru-senpai couldn't stop laughing at him when Momo replied to a question from Tezuka-buchou, even when Oishi tried to shush him.
"I can't help it, nya," Kikumaru had replied, nearly bent in two with giggles. "You sound like a girl, Momo. And a frog. At the same time!"
None of the other regulars had been any help, either. Inui-senpai had tried to offer him some steaming, fizzy brownish-green juice, which had smelled a bit like the sweat socks Momo had found wedged in the back of his closet the previous week. Oishi-senpai had hovered anxiously, asking constant questions and loading him down with miniature packages of tissues.
He spent twice as long in the showers and dressed slowly, not caring that he was almost late for class. Stupid cold, anyhow. The steam from the shower had cleared his head a little, but his throat still hurt and he couldn't swallow or talk without feeling like someone was pouring fire down it. He sat on the bench with his head in his hands, massaging his temples slowly.
"Here."
Momo looked up and blinked at the small, square flying at his face before catching it out of reflex. He squinted at the label; it was a box of cough drops.
"They work well," Kaidoh said gruffly, "I'm sick of listening to your stupid girl voice."
Momo opened his mouth to shoot back an insult, but closed it again and winced. He instead opened the package and popped one of the small, yellow disc-shaped candies in his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue. It was strong and sent waves of cool numbness across his tongue and down his throat. It tasted like lemon. Not bad, not at all.
He looked back up at Kaidoh, who was leaning against the clubroom door, already in his school uniform. He was watching Momo back, with a strange, careful expression.
"Thanks, Mamushi." His throat already felt better, even just a little bit.
Kaidoh grunted. "Idiot," he said, "You'd better get better before the next tournament so we don't have to cover for you."
Momo bristled. "I'll be just fine," he said, wishing that his voice wouldn't break when he said that. He sounded like he was crying, "You worry about yourself." He braced his hands on the bench, ready to get up. If Kaidoh wanted a fight, he could bring it on. Momo really wanted to punch something.
Kaidoh just hissed at him and - Momo had to blink to make sure he wasn't hallucinating - smiled a little. "I'll see you later, Momoshiro."
Momoshiro watched him walk out of the door, crunching on the cough drop and deep in thought.
Cross-posted to momo_kai