Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Assumptions ❯ Chapter 1

Title: Assumptions

Author: Harmonie Des Anges (HDA)

Rating: PG-13, for swearing

Pairings/Characters: Momo/Ryo

Disclaimer: I don’t own it. They wouldn’t just play tennis if I did.


Echizen stalked down the street in silence. His head bowed until the brim of his cap covered most of his face, his chin tucked, mouth covered by the high collar of his jacket. Bright eyes were riveted to the concrete below his feet, darting over the minute cracks that trailed over each square leading to the next. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, fists balled tight against each thigh, knuckles white around the edges.

"Stupid Momo." Echizen hunched further, shoulders tensing as his jaw clenched. "Stupid fucking Momo. He has to make a joke out of everything!"

He kicked a post box on the sidewalk to vent to his anger. Cursing, Echizen turned and leaned against the mailbox, looking up to squint into the afternoon sun. He ignored the startled looks he received for his outburst, the people on the sidewalk scuttling past. He snarled as he realized that by kicking the mailbox he was acting just like Momoshiro during his more meat-headed moments.

The urge to kick the metal box again surged with his frustration. The Ryoma grit his teeth, annoyed at how many of his lover's habits had rubbed off on him. At the moment, the thought of acting like his idiotic partner was making the Ryoma fidget with the barely checked need to cause permanent damage to public property. Sighing, Echizen pushed away from the red box, heading aimlessly down the street. He concentrated once more on the concrete beneath his feet, attempting to lose himself in the absent cataloging of interesting shapes broken into the cement. A block or two down held a vending machine, rows of cans displayed to the sidewalk, tempting passersby. The promise of refreshment lured Echizen, who dug deeper into his pocket, fingers slightly cramped from his tight hold on nothing.

Grasping for a few coins, he sighed in relief when he realized he had just enough change in his pocket for a drink. Staring down at the change in his palm, Ryoma wondered at how little money he had on him. But then, he’d left Momoshiro’s dorm room so quickly. Had needed to leave his lover’s dorm, before it got any worse. The rhythmic rattle and thunk of the machine accepting his money shook Echizen from his thoughts. Without pause, he pressed a button, absently listening to the machine vending his drink. Reaching down, he fished the can of Ponta from the bottom of the dispenser, frowning as the drink came into full view. Plump pink peaches decorated the can, Echizen glared at the cheery looking fruit before turning the scowl on the machine that blithely continued advertising a can of grape.

“Stupid machine.” he grumbled, popping open the tab. He wasn’t about to waste a good can of Ponta, peach or not.

As he sipped, Echizen debated going back to his lover’s dorm, if only to get his train pass to go home. Almost as quickly as he’d considered it, he shook off the idea. As stubborn and hardheaded as Momoshiro was, the only possible outcome would be another fight. He frowned; he hated fighting.

“Why did he have to act like it was no big deal?” Echizen’s shoulder’s sagged, the defensive posture fading under the weight of worry.

Tilting the can to his mouth, Ryoma paused and decided not to finish the drink. Sighing he tossed the trash into a nearby bin, not caring about the waste. His hands retreated back to his pockets, loosely curled and heavy against his sides as he shuffled forward again. Head falling forward, Echizen tucked in his chin once more, shielding his face, mind tumbling over his argument with Momoshiro.

“So did you sign up for the exams yet?” Momoshiro didn’t look up from where he sat at his kotatsu doing calculus.

Echizen paused, the character on the screen ceasing action. “Not yet.”

Momo looked up, surprised. “You’d better hurry up. Unless there’s somewhere else you want to go.” He paused to laugh at the possibility.

“Actually….” The laughter abruptly stopped. “I got a recommendation.” Echizen tensed, resuming his game, jabbing the buttons almost viciously.

“What?”

“I got a recommendation.” Giving up the game as a pretense, Echizen shut off the playstation.

"Where?" Unused to such hushed tones Echizen almost missed the question.

"California State University, it's in America." He turned to look at his lover, tense awaiting the man's reaction.

"In America?" the wonder in his tone of voice surprised Echizen; he'd expected a much louder outburst.

Echizen nodded a touch hesitantly, biting his lower lip. "My folks think it would be better. I'm technically an American citizen."

"Oh." Momoshiro leaned back against his arms, staring up at the ceiling of his room.

"My mom's been talking about moving back…"Echizen rushed, blinking and shutting his mouth awkwardly. He hadn't meant to mention that his parents were thinking of going with him.

To Ryoma’s surprise Momoshiro merely continued to stare at his ceiling, nodding his head. Worried, Echizen pushed himself to his knees, crawling along the floor, towards the kotatsu and Momoshiro.

Letting his body fall forward again, the violet-eyed man leveled a grin at his smaller lover. "Congratulations!" he laughed. "Guess we won't be getting that apartment together."

“What?” Echizen jerked to a halt.

Momoshiro’s grin did not waver. “Kind of hard to share an apartment if you’re going to America, you know?”

Echizen hummed in noncommittal understanding.

“Yeah…”fingers raked through spiked, black hair. “So you’re going to California State University.”

“It’s just a recommendation.” Echizen shrugged; he’d been so positive the announcement would be met with protest.

“Must be nice, does this mean no entrance exams?”

“They don’t really do entrance exams in America.” Echizen fidgeted restlessly.

“Lu~cky!” Momoshiro laughed again, scrubbing his hand through his hair again.

Ryoma watched Momo, unsure of how to respond to his lover’s easy acceptance, wondering why his support felt wrong somehow. It certainly made his decision easier, Echizen could go to America and nothing would change. It somehow didn’t seem like it should have been so easy. Silence shrouded the room again, itchy and uncomfortable, smothering him.

“America’s pretty far away…”

“Aa…” he started slightly at the statement.

“Kind of hard to keep in touch…” Momoshiro mused, tapping his pencil against his notebook thoughtfully.

Pressure built along the back of his neck, as bile crawled up his throat, unsure of where Momoshiro was steering the conversation.

“Does this mean you want some space?” Momo forced a smile again. “You know Echizen, you don’t have to go to another country just to break up with me.”

“Is that why you think I’d go?” The question was terse, sharp.

The pause lasted a few heartbeats longer than it should have, each beat a little quicker, a little tighter, and a little more painful. Momoshiro’s silences had always been the most eloquent part of his speech; they said everything when he couldn’t find the words.

“Well you know they say all long distance relationships are doomed to failure.” The joke was weak cover against the honesty in his voice.

His breath caught and Echizen relaxed, expression smoothing into careful disinterest, shoulders rolling forward, a study in indifference.. His head bowed, obscuring bright eyes and hands crept unseen into pockets, a carefully constructed wall of apathy blocking Momoshiro out.

Echizen grunted his reply and rolled to his feet, pivoting and shuffling for the door to unearth his things.

“Echizen…”

Echizen ignored him, digging through the jumble of shoes next to the door, needing to get out. His throat was beginning to tighten

“Oi, Echizen…Ryoma!”

The rising desperation in Momoshiro’s voice startled him, head turning automatically to the call. Eyes wide, he lurched back as Momoshiro stalked forward. He flinched as Momoshiro punched the wall hard- right next to his head-gaze fixed on the impression left by Momoshiro’s fist.

“What the hell.” Momoshiro stared down at his lover, blocking Echizen’s escape with his arm as he loomed forward; jaw clenched and shoulders stiff.

“I’m going home.” Echizen shrugged carelessly, moving to duck under the strong arm. “See you, Momo.”

“Wait, wait. So that’s all you came here for? To tell me, ‘Oh by the way I’m going to America, see you?’” the hand on the wall dropped, catching on the fabric of Echizen’s shirt, fingers tightening to hold him.

Staring up at Momoshiro dispassionately, Ryoma stayed silent as anger pinched the other boy’s features into a grimace. The burn in his throat was worse with the growing need to yell, the scraping sensation moving inward until it felt like someone was attempting to hollow him out. He closed his eyes briefly, fighting for one more calming breath. Reaching up to tug his shirt free, a minute frown crossed his face as he struggled with the strong grip.

“Let me go.”

“No, not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.” Momoshiro’s voice rose, straining each word with desperate anger.

“I thought I was breaking up with you to go to America.” Bitter anger sharpened the otherwise flat tone.

“I was joking.” Momoshiro shouted, shaking his fist in frustration.

“Were you.” Echizen grunted as he was nearly jerked off of his feet. “Stop shaking me you idiot!”

The motion stopped, Momoshiro not releasing the shirt, the two men glaring at one another.

“Everything’s a joke to you, isn’t it?” Echizen reached up, hand curling around Momo’s wrist. “Does that go for me too?”

For a moment the anger dissipated, replaced by disbelief and shock. “Ryoma-“

“If you don’t care then I guess I’ve got no reason not to go.”

“When did I say I didn’t care?” Momoshiro growled, pulling more tightly on the cloth. “You’re the one who acts like you don’t care!”

“You seem pretty happy to be rid of me.”

“Happy?” Momoshiro’s voice rose in outrage.

“Maa, should be glad for one thing. Now there’s nothing to worry about leaving behind.” Ryoma smirked bitterly.

“You always fucking do this! You just shut me out, act like you don’t care. Then walk away. You just run away!”

“I don’t run away.” Pride stung, Echizen’s hand tightened, nails digging into Momoshiro’s skin.

“Then what were you just doing, huh?” Momoshiro’s face loomed close, their noses practically touching.

“I am leaving.” The smaller boy wrenched himself free, wincing as the shirt nearly ripped. “Bye Momo, I’ve got packing to do.” Perversely satisfied, Ryoma did not acknowledge the obvious hurt and disillusionment that Momoshiro felt.

“Like hell you are.” Momoshiro lunged, groping for anything to hold onto. “This isn’t over.”

Opening the door, Echizen sidestepped the larger man. “Yeah actually. It is. Goodbye.”

“God damn it! Get back here, Ryoma. We aren’t done here!” A series of curses followed Echizen’s descent as his lover attempted to find his shoes and come after him.

Echizen sighed, leaning heavily against the railing of an overpass. He watched the cars speeding past, the sunlight bouncing off of the hoods, making him squint.

“What’s wrong with me?" he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t get mad like this…” A bitter laugh shook the slumped shoulders. “Only Momo.”

Almost since the day they’d met, before friendship had become attraction, Momo could incite honest and emotive reactions that Echizen did not give easily or often. Even more amazing than the ability to coax a smile and even laughter from him was Momoshiro’s way of sparking anger or passion.

Despite the fact that Momoshiro was better at pushing buttons than a four year-old in an elevator, Echizen wasn’t prone to fighting. A disagreement on places to go, what they would do, which movie to see, even positions during sex, small spats regular and easy to resolve were a reality he’d long accepted. They were both stubborn; it only figured that they’d have petty disputes over mundane inanities. But a real fight? Echizen couldn’t think of a time when an argument had left him feeling like he’d managed to fall down and scrape himself on the inside. This feeling- this unnamable, unwelcome emotion- made Echizen’s stomach lurch and his chest tighten.

He wanted to see Momoshiro- his familiar smile and unshakable optimism- but was afraid that wasn’t what he’d find. With everything that he'd said, he'd made one thing clear and that had been his decision to go to America. It had been years since the last time he'd considered leaving Japan, and Momoshiro's reaction had been so different then. Remembering the cheerful acceptance, the suggestion that Echizen only wanted to get away; anger constricted his throat with a shout of frustration. Did going to school overseas really mean they had to break up?

Echizen sighed again, head falling forward, grinding the heel of his hand against his eye. The irony was that he wasn't even sure he wanted to leave at all. His parents had gotten so excited about the acceptance letter, his father assuming for his son again. They were already talking and making plans to move back, never asking him what he wanted. The night before coming to his lover's dorm he'd gotten into a fight with his father over the stupid letter.

It wasn't that he didn't want to go to CSU…the problem was indecision: follow his family's wishes or stay in Japan with his friends and his boyfriend. Huffing in irritation, Echizen realized how much he'd wanted Momoshiro to give him a reason to stay. Now, with everything he'd said he wasn't even sure Momo would want to give him one. Reaching up he tugged his cap lower in frustrated confusion, running fingers over the brim. His stomach growled, only furthering his frustration.

Uselessly he wished he were back at the dorm with Momoshiro taking a nap after lunch. Pushing himself back up, he crammed his hands back in his pockets, shuffling back across the overpass. A bland stare swept the street attempting to pick out familiar direction.

"Che," glaring dully at the jumbled streets, Echizen continued to amble forward. He hadn't come wandering this far on his own before, and in most cases his partner usually acted as a guide in the unfamiliar areas of the city. His stomach growled again, a grimace twisting his face as he scanned building-fronts and peered down streets.

"Ryoma!"

Echizen frowned, ducking his head, pulling his cap lower. Cursing himself for acting so cowardly he walked on. Wanting to call out, and afraid of the reaction, he wasn't sure how ready he was to face Momoshiro.

"Ryoma! God damn it, Ryoma, where are you!"

The call traveled up the street adjacent to the one Echizen walked down, heading for the intersection. The thought of Momoshiro rampaging through the city streets looking for him made Echizen smile a little, letting go of some of the pain, anger, and guilt.

"Only Momo…" he thought fondly, slouching towards the intersection.

He smirked when Momoshiro sprinted past him, totally missing him, dodging around people on the sidewalk.

"Oi, Momo!" he called.

Whirling around, Momo glanced around wildly. When he finally spotted Echizen his mouth was set in a flat line as Momoshiro jogged towards Echizen. Standing in front of him Momo frowned, taking a minute to catch his breath.

"You stupid idiot!" He shouted shocking several bystanders who paused to watch with wide eyes.

Echizen flinched imperceptibly, shoulders hunching upwards in defense. Momoshiro was more than a little obviously still angry.

"You don't know your way around here! I was positive you'd get lost and you forgot your wallet you dumbass!" A fist landed on Echizen’s crown rattling him slightly, Momoshiro never pulled his punches.

"That hurts you moron." Rubbing his head irritably, Echizen glared sullenly.

"Good." Momo grabbed Echizen’s hand firmly, pulling him along the street. "You're such a bastard, leaving without letting me have my say!"

"Fuck…still mad."

"You bet your ass I am!" Momoshiro glared down angrily. "You can be one callous bastard, you know that? How could you think I wanted you to leave?"

"All you said was congratulations, like it didn't matter one way or another." Unable to hide his disappointment, Ryoma frowned – Momo’s flippancy had stung.

The look he received was more than a little incredulous. "What?"

"You acted like you didn't care that I could be going overseas."

"Ok first- are you going or aren't you? Second, what would my opinion matter?" Throwing up a hand for emphasis, Momo continued to pull him along. "We both know that if you want something, you go for it. No ifs, ands, or buts."

"That's not true." Ryoma’s simmering anger was evident. "You're saying I don't care what you think."

"Well in the end, how much does my opinion matter?" Momoshiro glanced back at him as they approached the dorm. Echizen blinked, he was positive he'd wandered farther than this. The momentary distraction left him with enough pause to achieve true indignation.

"A lot actually, you bastard" Echizen said, attempting to tug his hand free.

Momoshiro snorted. "So if I asked you to stay?"

Echizen scoffed- Momoshiro’s confidence was grating. "You are such an ass!" Planting his feet firmly on the steps of the dorm, Echizen stoutly refused to move.

Yanking hard, he managed to jerk Momo back a few steps. Twisting around, mouth open, Momoshiro swallowed what he'd been preparing to say. Breath leaving him; he was left speechless by the frank emotion on the normally reticent face. After the flash of open pain and anger, Echizen turned, lowering his head to hide his expression. Suddenly feeling like the ass his lover had accused him of being, Momoshiro shuffled his feet awkwardly, unable to just let Echizen go.

Closing his eyes, the small fist tightened in the warm grasp of his lover's hand. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was being.

"Will you stay?"

Silence met the question, each second numbing Momoshiro a little more, his hand slowly loosing his grip. The fist curled tight against his palm relaxed, fingers stretching out to return the fading grasp.

"I don't know." Echizen looked imploringly at his lover, hoping he understood.

Their eyes met and Momoshiro's heart ached a little at the honest indecision, but he smiled and nodded in sympathy to the uncertainty. "So what's California got that I haven't?"

"Intelligence." A hesitant smile was returned, Echizen's hand slipping free as he began to shuffled up the stairs.

"Hey!" The protest was weak considering the size of Momoshiro's grin. "Was that really necessary?"

"Yes," he tried the door, tugging the knob futilely with a frown. "Now feed me, I'm hungry."

Sighing in an exaggeratedly put upon manner, Momo rummaged around for his keys to open the door. His melodrama was met with a flat look; Echizen was clearly unimpressed with the hardships Momo endured for the sake of his lover. Chuckling he playfully shoved the small body aside to open the door, as Echizen ducked under his arm to get inside before him like an impatient cat. Shuffling in, Echizen nudged his shoes off and shucked his jacket, heading for the couch, sliding across the cushions in a luxurious stretch. Pillowing his chin on crossed arms he watched his partner make his own way inside, toeing off shoes and tossing his jacket carelessly over the nearest available piece of furniture before making his way to the small kitchenette that was crammed- almost as an afterthought- into the corner. No further prompting was necessary, Momoshiro filed through the shelves of his pantry and refrigerator searching for something edible.

"You'd better not be making that gross curry."

Lifting his head to give the boy on the couch an incredulous look, Momoshiro straightened, a box of curry powder in hand. "What if I was feeling curry?"

"Get over it." Echizen smiled, at the familiar banter. The mild argument about the relative predictability of Momoshiro’s taste buds, followed in its usual pattern until his lover eventually gave in, setting the box back onto the shelf and choosing a dish they both agreed on.

Wondering at how comfortable the little spat had been, Echizen speculated how much of it Momo had instigated on purpose. More grateful for the touch of normalcy than he would admit, Echizen sat up to watch his lover cook. Staring at the broad back, as Momoshiro moved around his pathetic excuse for a kitchen, Echizen realized that today's fight wouldn't be the last. They hadn't settled anything, not really. His lover's understanding and patience would be necessary for Echizen to make the best decision. Sadly Momoshiro wasn't known for his patience, and he wouldn't always be able to understand. There would be more disagreements, and they’d likely only get more heated. Biting his lip, Echizen began to wonder if they would really be okay, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of ceramic settling on the table.

"Thanks." Automatically he reached out, taking the hashi and food offered.

"Hey Ryoma, I've been thinking…"

Taking a bite of noodles, Echizen looked up into to meet Momo’s troubled eyes- surprised by his uncertainty.

"Do you think we'll be okay?"

He blinked at the question; reluctant to admit he’d just been asking himself the very same thing. Slurping the last of the soba he chewed for a moment, glad the mouthful gave him another couple seconds. Maybe things would change, maybe they’d be separated, and maybe they could even break up. Maybe, but only if they let it happen. They were both stubborn.

He smiled, small and reassuring. "Yeah, we'll be ok."


Glossary:

Hashi: the eating utensils of choice in Japan, aka chopsticks

Kotatsu: a table in Japanese culture used during the winter, it has a quilt attached and a heater underneath to keep the legs warm.

Maa: A general sound of acknowledgement