Birthday ficlets!

[asael]

Well, it's colorless_sky's birthday, and we all know how much I love and adore her. (And if you don't know? It's a lot.) Sadly, I am an ocean away and can't celebrate with her until next week. So here's the first of your presents, Sarra! When I come back you will get doujinshi as well. :D And me! Though that is a present of somewhat questionable quality.

I haven't written most of these pairings before, so hopefully they're halfway decent. You gave me a list, and I wrote as many as I could before I was ambushed by the twin demons of writer's block and sickness (bleh, cold). Sorry I couldn't do more, I totally ran out of juice in the middle of the Dirty Pair one, too! I have also discovered that I should never try to write Oishi. XD I love you lots and lots! ♥♥♥ More than anything! Even, like, crepes.


All Prince of Tennis
Various pairings
Warnings: Implied sex? I guess.



Fuji and Eiji met at a street café, as they did from time to time during college, not letting their class schedules get in the way. After all, Fuji didn’t need to attend class to pass, and Eiji didn’t really want to go anyway. They both considered spending time with their best friend to be more important.

It had been a long, unpleasant day for Fuji, full of little disappointments and small failures. He smiled, as always, but Eiji had known him for years and could see past the disguise, could see that Fuji was tired and, for the moment, aimless.

They made small talk over coffee and tea, talking about classes and professors and their fellow students. Fuji always had insights to offer, that seemed perfectly innocent until Eiji looked at them another way and saw their hidden barbs. That was why he loved Fuji, Fuji was always and had always been full of surprises, since their middle school days. Eiji loved surprises.

There was a lull in the conversation, and Eiji twirled the spoon that had come with his tea. He looked across the table and smiled. Fuji was looking out the window, eyes unfocused, looking like, Eiji thought, he needed to smile for real.

Well, Fuji sometimes liked surprises too. Eiji slid out of his chair and leaned across the table to kiss his friend, then pulled back. When he saw Fuji’s look of surprise, he smiled again, bigger this time. It wasn’t often he got to surprise Fuji. But he wasn’t going to wait to savor it, he had more important things to do!

“Hey, Fuji, let’s run away and get married!” Eiji said.

Fuji’s smile slowly changed, becoming just what Eiji wanted to see.

“Well, all right.”




“This? This music is not good music!” Kamio shook the CD in his friend’s face, making his point very clearly. Or so he thought.

Shinji only blinked at him. “I like it though.”

“Of course you like it. It’s created and manufactured specifically to appeal to the public at large! It has no soul, it’s the product of a giant corporation, and what’s more, the singer ripped off other, better musicians! I don’t understand how you can even listen to this crap, Shinji!” Kamio shook the CD again, then threw it to the floor in what he considered a very effective gesture of disgust.

“Well, I like it, and so I listen to it..." Shinji looked down at the CD, brow furrowed. “It’s really not hard, you put the CD in your CD player and put your headphones on, but I’m sure Akira knows this, he listens to music all the time, but then again he is really picky about music, maybe the CDs he listens to are different? No, I don’t think so, all CDs are the same, aren’t they? So I guess it was a metaphorical how, but that’s just silly, I don’t understand why Akira gets so upset about music anyway...”

Kamio barely held back a howl of fury. Shinji did not get it at all. It was so stupid. Hell, if the other boy wasn’t such a good kisser, Kamio was sure this relationship would have ended long ago.

“...but where did techno come from, anyway? And isn’t it just the same thing over and over? I would think that would get boring after awhile, but I guess not...”

Kamio made a mental note that in the future, he would have to make sure they stuck to kissing and tennis, not talking about music. And then he could sneak into Shinji’s room at night, take his CDs, and destroy them. It was for the sake of the world, really.





It started out as a fight.

Kamio didn’t actually remember what they were fighting about, but he was pretty sure Kirihara had said something insulting about his team or his captain. It didn’t matter, the important thing was that he needed to smash Kirihara’s smirking face in. And he was damn well going to.

As soon as they stopped kissing, anyway.

It wasn’t really a nice kiss. There was no way you could call it sweet. Passionate, yes. And angry, and violent. Not something that either of them should be enjoying, probably, but neither of them stopped, even when Kirihara bit Kamio’s lip particularly viciously.

He thought it was bleeding, maybe, so in return Kamio slammed the back of Kirihara’s head against the wall, although perhaps not quite as hard as he could have, and shoved his tongue into Kirihara‘s mouth.

Kamio was not entirely stupid, and knew this was an extremely bad idea in all possible ways.

But knowing and stopping were two different things, and somehow he couldn’t quite make the jump from one to the other.





He was on the roof at lunchtime, the traditional location of troublemakers and delinquents. Sengoku knew to find him there. After all, if anyone was a troublemaker and/or delinquent, it was Akutsu.

Sengoku just didn’t feel like spending his lunch with the girls for once. And if Akutsu was left to his own devices, who knew what kind of trouble he’d get into. Really, Sengoku was doing the school, and Akutsu himself, a favor.

Akutsu didn’t seem to see it that way, sadly, leveling a glare at Sengoku as the other boy invaded his privacy.

“Jin! Hey, the weather’s really nice today, isn’t it? Lucky for the tennis team, we’ve got practice later! You gonna drop by? But I guess by now your lungs must be shot, huh, with those.” Sengoku smiled and reached out, almost taking the cigarette from Akutsu’s lips before Akutsu stepped back, out of his reach, looking annoyed.

Sengoku hadn’t really expected to take it, anyway, so he just continued. “I don’t really get the appeal, but I guess it just adds to your bad-boy image, right?” He grinned at Akutsu.

Akutsu looked at him for a moment, unimpressed, then took the cigarette from his lips, holding it out. “Try it.”

Taking it from Akutsu, Sengoku raised it to his lips, placing them just where Akutsu’s had been. A slight smirk spread across Akutsu’s lips, and it only grew when Sengoku inhaled and didn’t cough once.





Tezuka paged through the papers on his desk. Class was over, but as usual, he still had work to do. It was expected, as the captain of the tennis team. He had to decide the lineup for the next ranking matches, which always took time. It was a delicate balancing act. He knew his Regulars well, and could usually predict who would win, so he had to organize the blocks carefully. The process took some time, and Tezuka had been here at least an hour already.

He was creating yet another potential lineup when he felt hands on his shoulders, and tensed up.

“Oh, Tezuka, really. You’re going to sprain something like that.”

At the sound of Fuji’s voice, Tezuka sighed mentally and relaxed- marginally. He should have guessed, there weren’t many who could easily sneak up behind him. Fuji probably meant no harm, he’d seemed a bit distracted the past couple days, which normally meant that whatever trouble there was would be perpetrated far away from Tezuka.

So when Fuji began to lightly massage his shoulders, Tezuka simply attempted to ignore it and continue his work. After a moment, Fuji spoke again

“You should relax more often. You’re going to die young, I’m sure. Stress and overwork, it’ll be very sad.” As Fuji continued to talk, Tezuka focused his attention on the paper, noting the subjects Fuji passed over with only the part of his brain that would notify him if Fuji started talking about dangerous things, like Inui’s juice, his brother, or something ‘really entertaining’ that Eiji had come up with. But Fuji kept to mostly small talk about class, their upcoming tests, and the tennis club, spending a few idle comments on a recently-joined second year who had been spreading rumors about Tezuka. Not that Tezuka had known, or particularly cared, but Fuji always seemed to notice these things.

He altered the lineup yet again and looked it over, realizing that he was actually feeling a bit more relaxed. When Fuji wasn’t causing chaos, he was very good company.

“Ah, you’ve put Momo in the same block as yourself and Inui. That’s not really fair, is it?” Fuji peered over his shoulder.

“These aren’t the final lineups, Fuji,” Tezuka said, making a note in the margin.

“Good, because I want to be in that block.” Fuji reached over and tapped the paper. Tezuka glanced at that row, not entirely sure why. It took him a moment before he realized that it held the second year Fuji had mentioned. He looked over at Fuji, who smiled back at him with an innocent smile that tended to promise destruction.

“I’ll see what I can do.” With that as his only response, Tezuka turned back to his work.

Fuji’s smile widened, and softened slightly. He leaned in and kissed Tezuka lightly on the cheek, then turned and left the classroom.





Oishi sighed, carefully bandaging his partner’s ankle. It was harder than it sounded. Eiji was whining, pouting, and practically boucing in place.

“Eiji, you should be more careful, you could have really hurt yourself. Don’t try a move like that in a match, even a practice match, until you’ve got it down, okay?” Oishi wrapped the bandage tightly, but made certain not to cut off any blood flow. He was just happy that this was all that had happened. Eiji could have broken his ankle, or his head. A small injury was nothing compared to that. Oishi knew he tended to worry too much, but Eiji wasn’t the type to worry, after all. Someone had to worry about him

“Mou, Oishi! I knew what I was doing. If that first year, what’s his name, Hiro or Horo or something, hadn’t hit his ball all the way into my court, it would’ve been fine! I don’t even know how he did it, he was three courts away with the other first years. But it was an accident, I know I can do that move.” Eiji crossed his arms across his chest and pouted cutely. He’d stopped fidgeting for a moment, though, and Oishi took the opportunity to finish binding his ankle.

“I’m sure you did. But Eiji, you really have to be careful. If you get seriously injured, what will the team do?” Oishi let go of his partner’s ankle, fingers lingering for a moment. “What’ll I do?”

Eiji looked at him, and smiled. In a moment, he had managed to propel himself off the bench and into Oishi’s lap without any warning. Wrapping his arms around Oishi’s neck, he kissed his partner firmly. “I’m not gonna go anywhere. I’m not gonna get hurt, Oishi. I promise.”

Oishi let his arms go around Eiji, pressing his lips to Eiji’s temple. “I know you won’t break your promises.” And he felt better.





“If I fall and die, or it eats me, I hope you know I’m blaming you. I swear I’ll come back and haunt you from beyond the grave.” Marui sounded deadly serious. He looked at his doubles partner earnestly. “And you’ll have to explain to Yukimura-buchou why I’m dead.”

Jackal sighed. “Bunta, I promise the horse will not kill you.” He’d specifically chosen the calmest, most docile one for Marui’s first ride. He knew people tended to be nervous, they were large animals, after all. But he wanted to share this with his partner, and he thought Marui would enjoy it.

If he ever managed to get Marui on the horse.

“Maybe not on purpose, but those things are dangerous. I’ve seen the movies. They can throw you off and you can die. What would the world do without me, Jackal? How would you go on?” Marui crossed his arms, popping his bubblegum to punctuate his words.

Jackal shook his head. “Bunta, if you do this, I will buy you dinner. Whatever you want, however much you want, wherever you’d like to go.” It was his second-best bribe, after sex. And if he bribed Marui with sex, they would most likely end up never leaving the (thankfully empty) stable.

Marui perked up a bit. “Really.” He considered the offer. “Wherever I want to go?”

“Wherever,” Jackal said, and thought of the future state of his wallet with sorrow.

There was a long silence, and then, “Okay. Fine. Go get the horse.”

Jackal went, quietly victorious.





Yukimura was more fond of potted plants than he was of cut flowers. Most of all, he liked plants in a garden, growing on their own with some help, but his garden was far away. In the hospital, he often got flowers, from club members and classmates and people he barely knew, but who knew of him.

He appreciated the flowers, of course, and the thought that went along with them. There were beautiful, but they always faded. He tended to send them to the younger children’s ward, if only because they would appreciate them even more than he did. Yukimura only kept gifts from his close friends.

His favorite was a small, potted African violet. Something easily cared for and simple, but beautiful. Sanada had given it to him, although he knew the idea had most likely been Renji’s. Sanada had brought it on his most recent visit, with the medal from the Kanto tournament, as Yukimura was recovering from his surgery. He wondered if it was meant to placate him, an offering like that. ‘Here, take this instead of the victory I promised.’

Yukimura was, of course, unhappy that his team had not won. But he couldn’t bring himself to be angry. He was alive, after all, which was a victory on its own. They had done their best, and so had he. Their best had not been good enough, but all that meant was that there was room to grow. So they would grow, and take Nationals.

He had said that to Sanada, but of course it had had little effect. Sanada saw his own failure as unforgivable, and had come to Yukimura’s hospital room to take the failure of the rest of the team on his shoulders, as well. Yukimura admired the gesture, but thought it was ultimately meaningless.

“There’s no need, Sanada. I’ve already forgiven you,” he had said, and smiled, the one that always made Sanada’s breath catch just a bit. Yukimura noticed these things, always. “We’ll have more chances. We haven’t failed entirely, nor will we.” He had reached out, touched Sanada’s hand. “I have faith in you.”

Sanada had left shortly afterward, too reticent to sustain long conversation at the moment. Yukimura had watched him go, knowing he would be practicing late into the night. He always worked hard, for Yukimura’s sake, and Yukimura appreciated it.

Eventually, he would repay Sanada. He knew what Sanada wanted, although he wasn’t entirely sure that Sanada knew, yet. It didn’t matter. Yukimura had no fear of making the first move. He knew Sanada would never say no.





“I thought you liked honest girls.”

“I think the key word in that sentence is ‘girls’. Do you have breasts?” Yagyuu cocked an eyebrow at his partner, lounging sedately against a pillow, mostly unclothed.

Niou leered, an expression that he must have practiced in the mirror, since it managed to somehow look not entirely ridiculous. “You tell me, you’re the one who had his hands up my shirt earlier.”

“Then I’ll have to remind you that you don’t, in fact, have breasts. And since I also had my hands down your pants, I need to point out that you have other parts that girls most definitely don’t. It follows that you aren’t a girl. Thus my point stands.” Yagyuu adjusted his glasses, straight-faced.

“What was your point again? I got distracted when you mentioned you had your hands down my pants. How about we do that again?” Niou said, grinning and sitting up.

“Already? Give it a couple more minutes, at least. And my point was that I do like honest girls. But you aren’t a girl. Therefore I can like you, even though you’re possibly the least honest person I know.” Yagyuu paused. “Tied with Akaya, I think. Though you’re a much better liar.”

“That’s true enough. He needs practice.” Niou stretched a little, then wiggled his eyebrows at Yagyuu. “So you’re allowed to like me? Okay, sounds good. Please demonstrate soon, otherwise I’m not gonna believe you.”

Yagyuu grinned, finally. “All right.”





It was sometimes kind of creepy how much Mizuki knew about what went on at St Rudolph. Yuuta knew Mizuki collected data, and that many people thought he was creepy, but Yuuta generally didn’t. A little strange, yes, but creepy? Not really. Still, there were times…

Like when his sempai had explained that the reason one of the girls in his class had asked to switch lab partners was because she’d caught her former partner giving her ex-boyfriend a blowjob in one of the broom closets. Yuuta hadn’t really wanted to know that, the “I wonder why she switched?” question had been entirely rhetorical.

Or when Mizuki had casually told him that a good two-thirds of the student body thought that he and Yuuta were involved in an illicit homosexual relationship. Those had been the exact words he’d used, too: ‘illicit homosexual relationship’. With a little smirk dancing around his lips, as though it were extremely entertaining.

Yuuta had blushed bright red, then cursed himself for it. He should be used to things like that by now. But of course, it really, really didn’t help that he kind of wanted to be in an illicit homosexual relationship with Mizuki. He hadn’t quite come to terms with his feelings yet.

Mizuki had taken careful note of his blush, and Yuuta had been completely certain he’d known what it meant. But he hadn’t said anything, only smiled a little more and walked away.

Yuuta had no idea what that meant. It was kind of encouraging, and kind of not. His only real hope was that Mizuki wouldn’t tell anyone, at least not until Yuuta had decided what to do. Which he would. Soon. Probably.





One day, Dan decided that he was going to give the cake he made in Home Economics class to his favorite sempai. He didn’t really think about how said sempai would feel about being given a cake, but that was just how Dan was sometimes. Besides, he’d accidentally missed Akutsu’s birthday because of a fiasco involving plate glass and a tennis ball gone awry.

He carefully mixed the ingredients and added a few extra touches. Dan had always enjoyed Home Ec, and he was good at it, too. He just knew Akutsu-sempai would love the cake. Once it was finished baking, he surveyed it again, and after a moment of thought, got some frosting.

When he presented it to Akutsu, with a big smile on his face, he got to see what few others had: Akutsu, dumbfounded.

The large boy stared at the cake, obviously trying to find words. Dan beamed.

Finally, Akutsu spoke. “Taichi. Why does this cake have a picture of a naked woman on it?”

“I thought you’d like it! Happy birthday, sempai!” Dan was overjoyed.

Akutsu stared.