A reasonable extrapolation from the way Ryoma and Momoshiro tend to fall asleep on each other, with some mild character introspection thrown in.
Ryouma had decided some time ago that Momoshiro Takeshi must have a teddy-bear fixation.
Prince of Tennis
Welcome to the Prince of Tennis section of my fanfic. Here you can find long dramas and romances, with smut thrown in whenever I needed a breather. You will also find me fudging around my nearly total lack of tennis knowledge, which may amuse those who actually have some of their own.
Arcs in Prince of Tennis: Standalone | Mirror Writing | Challenge | Third Watch | Swallow the Moon | Yaru | Hearts and Spades | Translated | Every Night and All
Upon meeting again in the hospital, after Seigaku plays Rikkai, Tachibana decides Fuji could use a friend outside of tennis.
He’d been told before, most notably by his little sister, that he worried too much. But he couldn’t shake off a feeling of responsibility for this injury.
Mizuki seduces Yuuta, and possibly vice versa.
It wasn’t that Yuuta didn’t know what kind of person Mizuki Hajime was. He knew perfectly well.
Takes place in Current Tenipuri Year. Ohtori reflects on the pair he’s found himself a part of.
Choutarou had been raised to show courtesy; Otou-sama always said it was one of the best ways to disarm an opponent. So he was polite to his peers and his seniors, both, and lent a hand wherever one seemed needed, and devoted every bit of his strength to working his way up the ranks.
After the third-years graduate, how do those who remain adjust?
Momo didn’t mind that Ryouma was quiet and obnoxious, and Ryouma didn’t mind that Momo was loud and obnoxious. They met in the middle, and it all worked out.
Fuji, slowly, learns how to be cared for; fortunately, Tachibana is patient.
“What?” his friend asked. “It’s obvious that you never let your temper go unless someone provokes you intolerably. You certainly never lose it on your own behalf.”
Snippets of how Ohtori and Shishido keep company while they’re apart, during Ohtori’s third year of junior high and Shishido’s first year of high school.
“I will be so glad when it’s next year,” he commented to the ceiling, knowing Choutarou would have looked up at the rustle when he fell back. “I mean, singles is fun, and all, but it’s just not the same.”
In the winter of Ohtori’s third year of junior high and Shishido’s first year of high school. Shishido reflects on his partner, and their bond as a doubles pair.
The first time Ryou found himself admiring his partner’s body, he chalked it up to hormones and went on from there.
Tachibana and Fuji ease into intimacy.
A month into his second year of high school Kippei was very pleased with the world. The fact that he was currently surrounded by spiky, vicious looking plants didn’t change that in the slightest.
Ohtori and Shishido finally come to terms with their attraction, and their partnership.
“All right, Choutarou, give. What’s got you so wound up, lately?” Shishido-san didn’t look up from zipping his bag, but his tone was not casual.
A little Momoshiro introspective about how he manages to be friends with Ryouma.
Despite his startlement, Momo could hold back a delighted grin. Lately, Ryouma had been descending to physical retaliation, in their teasing; it was almost as good as having another little brother.
Ryouma encounters someone who jars his view of what tennis is, and has a few revelations in the aftermath, some less comfortable than others.
Momo remembered going from being a bit worried about Akutsu’s dismissive contempt to being a little alarmed at his absolute, devouring, manic focus on Ryouma, once the game heated up. At no point had Momo really been surprised, though. Even then, he’d taken it pretty much for granted that Echizen could hold any fire barehanded, on the court.
The day after the events of “Twist”, Ryouma tries to sort out his thoughts.
Ryouma snorted a laugh. If he ever admitted to Momo that his protective streak made Ryouma feel better, he’d be doomed. Probably for life. Momo would never again believe Ryouma was serious when he grumbled or swatted Momo away.
Mizuki and Fuji play head games with each other.
The slow smile that curved Shuusuke’s mouth would have sent any sane person running, very far and very fast. Just as well, probably, that Hajime had never made any strong claims to sanity when he was in pursuit of a goal he wanted.
The aftermath of Fuji’s encounter with Mizuki, and explanations for Tachibana.
Kippei smiled down at him when Shuusuke raised his head to give him an inquiring look. “All the people you’re most drawn to are ones you can’t control.”
A typical day in the life of Ryouma and Momo, with a few extra revelations on Momo’s part. Karupin gets in on the action.
That furball was the only living creature he had ever seen Ryouma look at with open tenderness, and Momo had a good idea of who would lose if it came to a choice between the cat and himself.
The Clue Trout descends upon Ryouma.
- Associated fanart: Momo and Ryouma during a fluffy moment, by Hikariblue.
“You should have someone you can actually trust, every now and then, that’s all,” Momo said. His mouth tugged up at one corner. “Someone who can talk, instead of meow.”
Tezuka introspective.
When they faced each other the fronts ripped away, Atobe’s affectations and his own reserve both burned to glittering ash in the heat of their contest.
Tezuka and Atobe meet while out fishing, in the Spring of their third year of high school. Conversation, verbal jousting, poetry, philosophy, angst, dramatics and humor ensue.
Keigo took a few deep breaths; he would not, he told himself strenuously, scream with frustration. No matter how cathartic it might be just now. He had an image to maintain, even if Tezuka didn’t usually believe it.
Tezuka and Atobe meet while out fishing, in the Spring of their third year of high school. Conversation, verbal jousting, poetry, philosophy, angst, dramatics and humor ensue.
Kunimitsu considered his companion as he sorted through his hooks. Atobe was a showman, even when he was relaxing. If he was showing exhaustion, he probably wanted to be asked about it.
Tezuka and Atobe meet while out fishing, in the Spring of their third year of high school. Conversation, verbal jousting, poetry, philosophy, angst, dramatics and humor ensue.
Keigo opened his eyes. He was becoming increasingly fluent in Tezuka-speak, which was a very tonal language. That particular tone was more terse than he would have thought the comment warranted.
Tezuka and Atobe meet while out fishing, in the Spring of their third year of high school. Conversation, verbal jousting, poetry, philosophy, angst, dramatics and humor ensue.
“Why haven’t you ever argued philosophy with me before, Tezuka? You’ve been holding back on me.”
Hiyoshi’s perspective on a “chance” encounter between Hyoutei and Seigaku, and especially their captains.
The first anyone really knew of something going on was at the end of practice a few days later when Atobe answered his cell phone and suddenly had the gleam in his eye that meant someone was going to regret his existence very soon.
Heat, tennis, sex.
Full summer had arrived, bringing Keigo’s seasonal temper with it. It was beneath him to be cranky, but the heat made him restless. This was the one time of year when he genuinely envied Jirou’s ability to sleep through anything, including heat waves.
Tezuka convinces Atobe to take things a little slower.
Tezuka was currently engaged in poaching the fish with ginger shoots. This otherwise blameless activity was holding all of Keigo’s attention, because the look in Tezuka’s eyes at one or two points during the afternoon indicated to him that his fishing partner had, to put it euphemistically, plans for the evening.
Atobe watches Tezuka, and reflects.
Keigo didn’t have a great many examples to work from, yet, but he had come to the conclusion that Tezuka Kunimitsu never relaxed completely, even in sleep.
Atobe and Fuji have a chat about possessiveness.
“If you objected I would expect it to be because you thought I was a threat,” Atobe said, elliptically. “And if you thought I was a threat, I would expect you to carve my heart out and never lose that smile while you did it.”
Some conversation, courtside, about what it means to be Seigaku’s pillar.
Kikumaru Eiji liked it when his team was relaxed. Which meant he didn’t like it much when scouts came sniffing around the school courts.
Atobe decides to turn the tables.
“Kunimitsu,” Keigo sighed, “pleasure is pleasure. You can’t give any mind to what lesser people think about giving or receiving it.”
Niou enters junior high and encounters a wonderful new game.
Niou Masaharu liked seeing people disconcerted. The expression itself amused him, and the knowledge that he had been the one to put it on somebody’s face gave him a nice, warm glow of accomplishment.
Niou and Yagyuu become a doubles pair, and the game continues.
Masaharu opened his mouth to ask a pointed question about why it was Yukimura making all these decisions and announcing them, and not the captain standing, silent and uncomfortable, behind the Trinity. He closed it again, with a smooth look, at Sanada’s burning glare.
Stress in school gives Niou the break in the game he’s been looking for.
Yagyuu was eyeing him like a tiger trying to decide whether some sharp-clawed creature would be more trouble than lunch was worth. Masaharu gave him a brilliant, wolverine’s smile, and he snorted.
Niou and Yagyuu settle into their partnership.
“You do realize,” Masaharu murmured, “that you can be polite while still smashing them into jelly.”
Niou coaxes Yagyuu into more intimacy; or perhaps it’s the other way around.
He reached out and, delicately, removed Yagyuu’s glasses. A signal, a symbol, a talisman, but more than anything else an intense desire to see Yagyuu Hiroshi’s eyes.
Niou has an idea for a trick.
Yagyuu moved forward, fingers trailing ever so lightly over Masaharu’s wrist in passing. Masaharu suppressed his reaction, sternly, but couldn’t hold back a grin. Who would have thought that Yagyuu would be an incorrigible tease?
Disaster strikes for the whole team.
After such a golden autumn, no one expected what happened in the heart of winter.
Takes place during Chapter Seven. Introspective. Yukimura tries to deal with his debilitation over the winter. Angst, I-5
He tried to sleep as much as possible.
Takes place during Chapter Seven. Sanada finds an opponent who can help him improve his game, and, perhaps, offer some much needed distraction from his captain’s illness. Yanagi notes, in this, the possible start of a dangerous trend.
Genichirou never could decide whether he preferred Seiichi’s manner, who invariably drew whatever Genichirou was thinking out of him, or Renji’s, who rarely asked since he could usually be assumed to know already.
The team starts to recover, and Niou and Yagyuu find another kind of comfort.
It stretched him to the edge of pain, but never quite over. It was, perfectly, everything he desired of his partner, every reason he pressed Yagyuu to let himself go, the extremity of sensation that could have been destruction but, to him, was not.
For Regionals, the team pulls out all the stops.
Masaharu didn’t know about the others, but he’d had to catch Yukimura from falling more than once, while spotting for his “light” practices, and had to carry him back inside twice. He’d watched the frustration his captain could keep out of his voice but couldn’t keep out of his eyes, and shuddered to think what it must be like.
The team brings the results to their captain.
“Is it over, do you think?” Yagyuu asked, at last, barely whispering in the silence. He didn’t protest when Masaharu twined a hand into his hair, drawing his head down to Masaharu’s shoulder.
During Chapter Ten Yanagi deals with Sanada guilting.
It had been a split-second decision, almost an impulse, really, except for the calculation behind it.
Just before the end of Chapter Ten Kirihara comes to talk to Yukimura about his final match at Regionals.
If a hawk could smile, it might smile the way Yukimura-san was now.
Immediately after Chapter Ten, Sanada (and, to a lesser extent, Yanagi) explains himself to Yukimura.
“You take too much on your own shoulders so often,” Renji sighed. “That was exactly what got you into this situation in the first place.”
Sanada and Kirihara address the unproductive aspects of their interpersonal relationship, pursuant to one of Yanagi’s observations in “Water Over Fire”.
Genichirou tried to take the opinions of his hormones with a grain of salt. Akaya was impulsive, considerably moreso than any other member of the team. Giving his impulses free rein was a large part of what had brought them to their current, slightly uncomfortable, position. It behooved Genichirou to at least make sure his younger teammate thought twice. Even once might do.
Yukimura apologizes to the teams his own injured, and picks up a challenge on the way.
Seiichi’s eyes narrowed. He had come here to render an apology, but he’d be damned before he stood still to be a source of entertainment for Fuji Shuusuke.
Kirihara decides to tease Sanada, and the results are about what one might expect.
“Do you remember what I said about teasing, Akaya?” he asked, softly.
Pressed against the length of Sanada-san’s body, so tightly he could feel as well as hear the deep, smooth voice, Akaya couldn’t hold back a triumphant grin.
“That it works?” he suggested, breathless.
Yukimura is finally convinced that he is fully recovered, and is beyond pleased over it.
Seiichi stepped away, and then spun to face them. “It’s all here,” he said, and Genichirou’s throat closed at the wonder in his voice, “I’m all here, still. Again.”
Sanada teaches Kirihara a lesson about teasing. Or, possibly, a lesson in teasing.
The look in Sanada-san’s eyes should have warned him.
Fuji visits Rikkai, hoping Yukimura can explicate a few things for him.
“Fuji,” Seiichi sighed, running a hand through his hair. Still, he had been trying to wake Fuji up for years, now. Something he suspected Fuji had recalled, too.