Disclaimer: Konomi's characters, not mine.
Pairing: Pillar Pair (Tezuka/Ryoma)
Warnings: BL, mentions of kissing. Drabble.
Author's Note: For clinck's TezRyo revival!
Tezuka Kunimitsu was a man of will, a man of propriety, and man who knew lines and never crossed them. As the captain of the Seishun Gakuen Boys Tennis Club, he knew every possible meaning of inappropriate with almost inconceivable clarity and avoided each one with the strictness of a military general. Tardiness, laziness, horseplay, cheating, violence, smoking, badmouthing, bad sportsmanship-- none of it had any place in his club, and the odd transgressor could be seen running twenty or thirty laps around the courts. Of course, he was fair, moral, understanding; in fact, Tezuka cared a great deal about the members of his team, and about the team itself as a whole, but in his eyes, rules were rules and they were not to be broken.
But then Echizen Ryoma came along and ruined everything, because Echizen Ryoma simply was an exception to the rule, in every aspect of his being. Still, once the turmoil had died down and Echizen was instated as one of the Regular members and the second years stopped complaining and whining about it, Tezuka was fairly certain that, with that bump in the road smoothed over and done with, things could go back to the way they had been, and anything else inappropriate could be avoided. He poured his energy into practice, into working and struggling and improving and into winning, and perhaps it was in this complete immersion into pursuing his goal that he let things slip.
Because Tezuka hated inappropriateness, but kisses, hot and wet and desperate and rushed in the locker rooms before, after practice were inappropriate, and phone emails, late at night, with no message other than a family name meant to say "I'm thinking about you," were inappropriate, and gazes, long and intense, on one member of the club for hours when he was the captain, when he was responsible for all of them, god dammit, were so entirely inappropriate. And yet here he was, guilty of all of these transgressions and so much more, a repeat offender, and with no one but himself to blame. How could he fault Echizen, after all, when he waited with bated breath for the last of their teammates to leave the locker room after practice, anticipated the email responses whose only message was "Buchou," and yet was so much more, every one of which saved to his phone, when he couldn't help but watch every one of the freshman's moves, every one of his games like they were works of art? It was wrong, he told himself, because Echizen was a member in his club, and he was his captain and an upperclassman on top of that, and he was practically taking advantage of the boy, when one thought about it.
But he didn't want to think about it, couldn't think about it, because the moments he spent with his arms wrapped tightly around that small, growing frame were such perfection that Tezuka couldn't find it in himself to really and truly believe this was wrong. There was no way he could ever take advantage of Echizen when the boy was so astute, so intelligent, and Tezuka didn't see him as a first year, or as an underclassman, or as a subordinate, but as tennis player, a force of his own, growing, learning, improving with each passing day. And even when Tezuka pressed him against the lockers, they were equals, always equals, with the same footing on the same ground. Ryoma simply emitted some radiance, some warmth that permeated Tezuka's body and made the rigidity in his nature melt just a little, and though Tezuka knew he shouldn't allow this, knew he was breaking his own rules, and though he couldn't begin to comprehend why, he couldn't bring himself to believe that he was doing something wrong.
And then, one afternoon, as they were parting ways after practice, Echizen stopped, looked up at him, and very simply said, "I love you."
And it was in that moment that Tezuka realized that, perhaps, some things transcended rules.