[PoT] Sweethearts, PG, Fluff, FujiRyo

[meiface.livejournal.com]

Title: Sweethearts
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: FujiRyo
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.

The importance of candy in a relationship.
30_kisses theme: #23 candy


Each section is a 100-word drabble except the last, which is a double-drabble: 200 words. For kicks.


Sweethearts
by meitachi

Licking his fingers, Ryoma swiped off the sticky residue of the candy, and looked up to see Fuji watching him. Blue against blue, he thought, eyes against the sky. He stared back challengingly, because he never backed down. He was knocked off-kilter when Fuji’s smile curved his lips, sweet and innocuous, and that gaze was directed elsewhere, at the courts.

Ryoma scowled and helped himself to another piece of candy as he rested on the bench. Unnerving, he’d label Fuji, if he ever let himself admit it. Ryoma wondered, idly, if even the indomitable liked candy. He did, after all.

--

Fuji touched his elbow gently and when he looked up, a sticky-sweet kiss was pressed to his mouth, warm and faintly tart. Ryoma licked his lips afterwards—Fuji was proud of the way he no longer flushed—and said witheringly, “Cherry.” He preferred mango.

Laughing at his expression, Fuji slid his hand into Ryoma’s, the other hand sliding the lollipop back in his mouth. Ryoma followed the movement with his eyes and then looked away, smiling, smug in the knowledge that he was the preferred treat. Hand in hand, they walked and the winter sun was warm on their backs.

--

Ryoma remembered the untidy piles of candy and chocolate that would spread across his desk when he dumped out a haphazardly decorated paper bag. Among the jumble of sweets would be little cards with the perfunctory holiday wishes and Ryoma had always hated them because they had all been too saccharine, sweeter than the candy itself, and he had never been one for emotions.

He told Fuji no candy this year, no cards, nothing even remotely related to the commercialism of the day, so instead Fuji had touched his fingers gently to his shoulder and asked, smiling, for a game.

--

Everyone had secrets and one of Ryoma’s was his passion for fruity hard candy. Only three people in the world knew and, of those, only one would do this for him. On Monday, Ryoma found three pieces of candy slipped in his lunch; Tuesday, two pieces in his desk; Wednesday, three in his shoe locker; and today, four in his tennis bag. Initially, he’d reacted with suspicion but had gradually come to look forward to the treats.

He sought out Fuji after practice and silently handed him two mango-flavored candies that said, “I love you, too.” Thank you, added his eyes.

--

When Fuji graduated from junior high, Ryoma told him he would beat him soon. Fuji told him it was too early for that and they went out for ice cream sundaes. Ryoma, Fuji discovered, had a sweet tooth.

When Ryoma graduated from junior high, Fuji bought him a bag of mango-flavored hard candy and roses. He congratulated his “favorite kohai” and Ryoma grinned and replied that it was because he was the only underclassman who’d ever beaten Fuji in tennis.

When Fuji graduated high school, Ryoma lost his penchant for hard candy and took to the courts with a fiercer passion than before. No matter what his mother said, he was determined to go straight from school to the professional courts. University wasn’t in his plans and Fuji was in the United States.

When Ryoma graduated from high school, he joined the circuits and found Fuji at Stanford. When Fuji offered to take him out for lunch—or just dessert, he teased with a smile—Ryoma said he’d outgrown his taste for sweets and kissed him instead.

Fuji, as Ryoma had suspected all along, was tart and bitter, only faintly sweet.

Fuji, Ryoma decided, was far more to his taste.


--

Started/Finished: 11.11.05
Edited: 11.11.05