Drabble Request #5: Speaking Gestures
Requested by meiface. Randomly pulled this plotbunny out of the rabid pile of insane fluff using the line as a bait. Personally, I think it's a scrawny little thing that ate a good deal of brain cells but still didn't quite gain much to boast of... besides going waaaaaay over the word limit anyway. :P Hope this entertains~
Fandom: Prince of Tennis Pairing: Fuji/Ryoma Line: Touch me and die. Word Count: ~910 (yes. wtf. exactly)
Speaking Gestures by kasugai gummie
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Personal contact, gestures more intimate than the pre-requisite handshake, bodily impacts...
He avoided them all, as best he could.
It wasn’t something he did consciously, or even willfully. Staring apathetically at an unwanted hand on his shoulder, brushing off some random annoyance who’d gotten too close to comfort, or even taking the initiative to removing his self from that of a trespasser invading his personal space—all where merely innate mechanisms that had no ulterior drive behind them. Ryoma was just not what you’d call a touchy-feely type person.
“Our boy genius is still resisting human contact?”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say _that_ but...” A finger reached up to adjust a pair of obscure spectacles. “His behavior is both irrational and disruptive to my data collecting processes. Highly unreasonable and extremely inefficient,” Inui mumbled from behind his latest notebook, the visible portions of his forehead creased in a frown.
His companion tapped a slender finger to his cheek. “Would you mind doing me a favor if I corrected Echizen of his bad behaviors?” Fuji murmured thoughtfully, eyes trained on the lithe form beyond the green fence.
Inui slowly lowered the book from his face so that he could watch the predatory cast that slowly settled on the otherwise pleasant countenance. Only a favor, eh?
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Monday was dubbed Five Feet Awareness Day.
Fuji noted amusedly as his kouhai shifted unconsciously away from his insistent presence. For the entire day, he’d been making sure to press his advance and retain a distance of no less than five feet between him and the younger boy. As expected, Ryoma had continuously moved, wandering incessantly in response to Fuji’s tailing.
That was not surprising.
However, what WAS interesting was that the younger boy did not vocally object to his senpai’s questionable motives to following him wherever he went.
And, unfortunately for him, that was encouraging.
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Tuesday was dubbed Three Feet Awareness Day.
Ryoma frowned absently, picking up his pace and noticing that a rather persistent person still followed him through the crowded throng of tennis club members. He ducked behind the captain and skulked there, offering no explanation other than a mumbled greeting to Tezuka’s questioning gaze.
“Saa.”
Warning bells were clanging haphazardously in the back of his mind... But for what, he wasn’t quite sure.
The resulting feeling however, was making him edgy. And god knows what Echizen Ryoma did when he was edgy.
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Wednesday was dubbed Bodily Contact Day.
Blue eyes narrowed shrewdly as the distance between them closed rapidly... despite the other’s concerted effort to flee. He had told the younger boy once that he was amazing. Now was probably the most appropriate time to reiterate it had not been for his little game of Touch and Freak.
The painstaking dawning of realization was slowly worming its way into Ryoma’s psyche; the wary glares, the extra effort to avoid the infamous prodigy, the suspicion that hounded those burnished depths...
Fuji looked deep down inside for any spark of pity. He looked long and hard.
Finding none, he continued his little project.
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Thursday was dubbed The Official Touch and Freak Day.
Made highly aware of the body heat to his left, Ryoma shivered uncomfortably. Those damn bells hadn’t stopped since Tuesday and such extra annoyances always managed to bother him more effectively than others.
“Echizen.”
He resisted the little voice, which he’d later refer to as the Voice of Self-Preservation, and turned to face the speaker warily.
“Aa?”
“Can you pass me my towel?”
Their fingers remained in contact for a fraction of a second, giving and taking steady warmth. However, in Echizen Ryoma terms, it was a fraction too many. He wanted to tell the other to stop touching him, maybe say something along the lines of “Touch me and die” to get his point across. He did none of that though. Instead, pulling his hand away quickly, he attempted to ignore the knowing smile that graced his senpai’s face.
He failed.
Failed miserably as a matter of fact.
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Friday was dubbed Invade Echizen’s Personal Space Day.
And for good reason too.
The expression of “holy-shit-I’m-being-cornered” looked rather fetching on the boy, Fuji decided amicably. The vaguely traumatized visage was fairly reminiscent of the one Ryoma usually wore when things weren’t going his way. Laughing silently, Seigaku’s mind-game specialist proceeded to strip boy wonder of all pretenses of having what used to be the concept of “personal space.”
Besides, what normal teenager in his right mind, surrounded by other normal teenagers (some better looking than others) in their rights minds, would even stand a chance of remaining untouchable in environments such as the Seigaku boy’s locker room?
Not Ryoma, in any case.
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Saturday was dubbed Cop a Grope Day.
And for all the best reasons.
Things had gone delightfully as planned and the results rolled in smoothly.
Coincidentally, Ryoma had given up trying to avoid Fuji’s advances and even resigned himself to the other’s proposals of exploring the nuances of various gestures and the meanings behind them.
He wasn’t complaining much afterwards.
Not _too_ much anyway.
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Sunday was the day that Fuji called in his favors.
Inui gave his options a cursory weighing before complying with Fuji’s request and dialed a number that wasn’t suppose to be at his disposal.
It wasn’t a bad request per se—just highly unusual.
One would have never thought of Tezuka needing outside comfort.
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kasugai_gummie) wrote,
