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So, um. I told ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
colorless_sky I would write her fic to celebrate school not killing her. And it hasn't! (yet) Then I lost my notebook. Then I found it again! Then I wrote this. It doesn't make much sense. I apologize in advance, I just enjoy torturing Kamio.
Now I only owe two fics. :D And I'm in a writing mood, whee!
Prince of Tennis
...Kamio/Kirihara? Kind of. Mostly this is just crack. WITH EXTRA FUJI.
Kamio had decided that his life was hell. It had taken him awhile to come to this conclusion, but now he was certain.
It had started with this party. He hadn't really wanted to go, there was a show he'd wanted to see instead, but Ann had talked it up as the best party ever and had told Kamio he had to go, since everyone else was. And, well, Kamio had a very hard time saying no to Ann.
The party wasn't really that bad. The music was good, the food was free and not horrible, the drinks were presumably good (Kamio was staying away) and there were lots of people.
But that was really the problem. Ann had neglected to mention that a good portion of Fudomine's rivals - RIVALS - were going to be at this party.
This seemed to bother no one else. Over by the dip, Tachibana was chatting with Seigaku's captain, probably comparing tips about tennis or proper leadership or inspiring the troops. Something desperately inappropriate for a party like this. Kamio took a moment to try and figure out how two of the most straight-laced people he knew had ended up coming to a party with alcohol, then chalked it up to a mystery for the ages.
In another corner, Shinji seemed to be engrossed in a very serious conversation with the short kid from Seigaku, Echizen. Kamio assumed it was about grip tape.
He had no idea where any of the others were. He was considering leaving, considering it very seriously, when a drink was pressed into his hand. He looked at it, then looked at the person giving it to him. Seigaku's singles two player smiled back at him. Kamio managed to stop himself from stepping back, and wasn't sure why he'd felt the urge. Fuji wasn't scary at all.
"Kamio, leaving already?" Fuji's smile was slightly unsettling, and Kamio was fairly certain he'd shown no sign of leaving. Sure, he'd been thinking about it, but- "Here, I brought you a drink. It's perfectly safe, don't worry. If you're bored, you can come sit with us, we're in the other room playing board games."
It sounded safe. It sounded only slightly less boring than standing around, but Ann would kill him if he left. If Kamio had known Fuji better, warning alarms would be going off. Sadly, he didn't, and they weren't.
"All right, sure. Better than hanging out here, I guess." Kamio shrugged, and glanced down at his drink as he followed Fuji into the other room. The drink did look completely safe, so Kamio took a cautious sip. It tasted fine, and even non-alcoholic, though he wasn't entirely sure what it was. He decided it was okay to drink.
In retrospect, that was his first mistake.
***
Three 'non-alcoholic' drinks later, Kamio glared blurrily at Seigaku's supposed genius. He wondered just how exactly it had happened that Fuji, who had been the one to originally propose this game of strip Twister, had ended up the one with the spinner.
"Left foot red!" Fuji called out, sounding incredibly amused. As he moved (carefully), Kamio caught a glimpse of Fuji's drink. It was still full, and Kamio realized he'd been nursing the same drink all night. It was unfair. Fuji was, somehow, cheating horribly. Kamio was furious, he would put a stop to this.
And then his foot slipped.
"Ow," said Ohtori.
***
Two more drinks after that, Kamio had decided that he didn't really mind laying on a sofa with another half-naked boy. Of course, it would be a lot better if Kirihara would stop biting him, and he had the vague impression that the picture Fuji had just taken was going to come back to haunt him one day.
On second thought, the biting wasn't too bad. Though he did kind of wish that Eiji guy would stop peeking over Fuji's shoulder and laughing like an idiot.
***
The next morning, Kamio's head hurt. Badly. It took him awhile to get over that, and to get over the horror of having woken up next to Kirihara. Who he hated. A lot. He was pretty sure, anyway.
It took even longer before he remembered everything that happened, through his pounding headache. The party, the alcohol, the strip twister (strip twister?!), the photographs.
Oh shit. The photographs.
Kamio vaguely remembered Fuji being hauled off by his irate captain at some point during the night, so... probably Tezuka had taken the camera away. Oh god, he hoped. He prayed.
He glanced over at Kirihara, who was still sleeping, and drooling a little. He looked down at himself, covering in bite marks and light bruises and... well.
Kamio knew where to lay the blame. Fuji Syusuke would pay.
Kamio's life was hell.
colorless_sky I would write her fic to celebrate school not killing her. And it hasn't! (yet) Then I lost my notebook. Then I found it again! Then I wrote this. It doesn't make much sense. I apologize in advance, I just enjoy torturing Kamio.Now I only owe two fics. :D And I'm in a writing mood, whee!
Prince of Tennis
...Kamio/Kirihara? Kind of. Mostly this is just crack. WITH EXTRA FUJI.
Kamio had decided that his life was hell. It had taken him awhile to come to this conclusion, but now he was certain.
It had started with this party. He hadn't really wanted to go, there was a show he'd wanted to see instead, but Ann had talked it up as the best party ever and had told Kamio he had to go, since everyone else was. And, well, Kamio had a very hard time saying no to Ann.
The party wasn't really that bad. The music was good, the food was free and not horrible, the drinks were presumably good (Kamio was staying away) and there were lots of people.
But that was really the problem. Ann had neglected to mention that a good portion of Fudomine's rivals - RIVALS - were going to be at this party.
This seemed to bother no one else. Over by the dip, Tachibana was chatting with Seigaku's captain, probably comparing tips about tennis or proper leadership or inspiring the troops. Something desperately inappropriate for a party like this. Kamio took a moment to try and figure out how two of the most straight-laced people he knew had ended up coming to a party with alcohol, then chalked it up to a mystery for the ages.
In another corner, Shinji seemed to be engrossed in a very serious conversation with the short kid from Seigaku, Echizen. Kamio assumed it was about grip tape.
He had no idea where any of the others were. He was considering leaving, considering it very seriously, when a drink was pressed into his hand. He looked at it, then looked at the person giving it to him. Seigaku's singles two player smiled back at him. Kamio managed to stop himself from stepping back, and wasn't sure why he'd felt the urge. Fuji wasn't scary at all.
"Kamio, leaving already?" Fuji's smile was slightly unsettling, and Kamio was fairly certain he'd shown no sign of leaving. Sure, he'd been thinking about it, but- "Here, I brought you a drink. It's perfectly safe, don't worry. If you're bored, you can come sit with us, we're in the other room playing board games."
It sounded safe. It sounded only slightly less boring than standing around, but Ann would kill him if he left. If Kamio had known Fuji better, warning alarms would be going off. Sadly, he didn't, and they weren't.
"All right, sure. Better than hanging out here, I guess." Kamio shrugged, and glanced down at his drink as he followed Fuji into the other room. The drink did look completely safe, so Kamio took a cautious sip. It tasted fine, and even non-alcoholic, though he wasn't entirely sure what it was. He decided it was okay to drink.
In retrospect, that was his first mistake.
***
Three 'non-alcoholic' drinks later, Kamio glared blurrily at Seigaku's supposed genius. He wondered just how exactly it had happened that Fuji, who had been the one to originally propose this game of strip Twister, had ended up the one with the spinner.
"Left foot red!" Fuji called out, sounding incredibly amused. As he moved (carefully), Kamio caught a glimpse of Fuji's drink. It was still full, and Kamio realized he'd been nursing the same drink all night. It was unfair. Fuji was, somehow, cheating horribly. Kamio was furious, he would put a stop to this.
And then his foot slipped.
"Ow," said Ohtori.
***
Two more drinks after that, Kamio had decided that he didn't really mind laying on a sofa with another half-naked boy. Of course, it would be a lot better if Kirihara would stop biting him, and he had the vague impression that the picture Fuji had just taken was going to come back to haunt him one day.
On second thought, the biting wasn't too bad. Though he did kind of wish that Eiji guy would stop peeking over Fuji's shoulder and laughing like an idiot.
***
The next morning, Kamio's head hurt. Badly. It took him awhile to get over that, and to get over the horror of having woken up next to Kirihara. Who he hated. A lot. He was pretty sure, anyway.
It took even longer before he remembered everything that happened, through his pounding headache. The party, the alcohol, the strip twister (strip twister?!), the photographs.
Oh shit. The photographs.
Kamio vaguely remembered Fuji being hauled off by his irate captain at some point during the night, so... probably Tezuka had taken the camera away. Oh god, he hoped. He prayed.
He glanced over at Kirihara, who was still sleeping, and drooling a little. He looked down at himself, covering in bite marks and light bruises and... well.
Kamio knew where to lay the blame. Fuji Syusuke would pay.
Kamio's life was hell.