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Ice Cream	By : KoalasRock Category: Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama > General Views: 2406 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis (Tennis no Ohjisama), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-On a hot summer day...
- 1
Disclaimer: As much as I’d love to own Prince of Tennis and turn it into the Yaoi show of my dreams, I cannot. For I do not own the rights to do so. In any case, I don’t own Prince of Tennis.

A/N: I have just realized how eloquently I speak and write during the wee hours of the morning where I am neither asleep nor awake but in a rather drone-like mode. And this was how this fic came to be.

Inspiration: Seeing the word ice cream on a random story.

Warnings: Mild shounen-ai. (If you are dense, squint if you must.)

--FSTK--

It all started one fine summer afternoon when there was nothing to do but laze around in the blistering heat of the sun or in the confines of an air-conditioned room. For Tezuka Kunimitsu it was the latter. His mother had insisted on installing a centralized system in their suburban home and Tezuka was glad that he did not object. Not with the heat outside hot enough to melt ice in seven seconds.

He knows this why? Because he and Inui had tried. The ice melted in exactly 7.06 seconds upon touching the concrete sidewalk. It then proceeded to boil after a few more seconds.

“It melted.” Tezuka muttered.

“Iie data.”

As the situation demanded, they promptly ran back inside Tezuka’s house and enjoyed an afternoon of watching comedy and vaudeville shows on TV, with the rest of the tennis club of course. It was fun and all but our favorite buchou did enjoy his peace. So after about two hours of noise, he had thrown them out the door with a curt goodbye.

Except for one.

“Fuji,” Tezuka said sternly, “What are you still doing here?”

Fuji smiled at him and flipped the TV to the Discovery Channel. There was a documentary about the mating of earthworms showing. Fuji set the remote down.

“Fuji.”

Tezuka did not like repeating himself. And Fuji knew that obviously.

“Hai, Mit-chan?”

Tezuka’s left eye twitched. “Why are you still here?”

“Because I’m bored.”

Tezuka sighed. “Then go find someone else to be bored with.”

Fuji turned to him and pouted. “You don’t want to spend time with me, Mit-chan?”

There is something seriously wrong with that nickname… Tezuka thought.

“Fuji, I would like some peace after having the whole tennis club over for two hours.”

Fuji’s pout turned into a frown and he headed for the door.

“Aa. Sou… I shall take my leave then.” Time for the guilt trip!

Fuji bowed slightly and said, “I apologize for being a bother. It won’t happen again, Tezuka-buchou.”

Tezuka groaned inwardly. He only uses that name when he’s sad. I hate being nice.

He took a deep breath and grabbed Fuji’s arm lightly, “Syuusuke. I’m sorry. Stay.”

Inner Fuji grinned like a madman. I win.

Fuji turned back with an unsure look on his face. Now for the kicked puppy-look…

“Ano… Are you sure, Kunimitsu? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

The said man sighed and replied, “It’s fine. Do you mind staying in my room while I get more snacks?”

Fuji shook his head and smiled. “Arigatou, Mit-chan.”

Tezuka suppressed the urge to snap at him for using the forbidden nickname but this was Fuji he was talking about. Whatever Fuji wants, he almost always gets, in whatever means necessary. And I mean, whatever means necessary.

As Tezuka disappeared through the hallway, Fuji made sure to take his time in reaching his room on the second floor. Their buchou’s house was relatively normal, with potted plants on the side tables, warm colors on the walls and family pictures by the stairwell. Fuji paused his gait at the foot of the stairs where one of the said pictures hung.

He reached out a tentative hand and stroked the frame with a genuine smile. Encased in the brown border was a picture of Tezuka as a little boy no more than six years old in a dreadful black suit his mother had more or less forced him to wear. His expression was that of mild annoyance but it was obvious he did not say anything in fear of invoking his mother’s wrath.

Always the prim and proper one, weren’t you, Buchou?

Fuji pulled out a small digital camera from his khaki shorts and snapped a quick photo. Tezuka’s steps echoed throughout the empty house and the tensai flew over the stairs without a sound in a matter of seconds. Fuji opened the door to the room and silently sat himself on Tezuka’s bed.

“Sorry I took long. The dispenser was acting up again.”

Fuji inclined his head to show he heard but was engrossed in the picture frame on the nightstand. It was a stolen shot from one of his better cameras, the Nikon ones, when he and Tezuka met up in a café. Tezuka’s hands were wrapped around his mug while Fuji’s head titled, looking at him intensely.

“I didn’t know you kept this.”

Tezuka sipped his tea and offered no reply.

“What do you want to do?” Fuji asked excitedly, bouncing lightly on Tezuka’s bed.

Tezuka shrugged his shoulders lightly, “I don’t know. You’re the one who’s bored.”

Fuji’s eyes glinted.

Uh-oh. I don’t like that look.

Fuji, out of complete air, pulled out a big white box with red, blue and yellow dots on it.

I knew it.

“Let’s play Twister!”

Dear God.

“Okay, Mit-chan, left foot blue!”

--FSTK--

Tezuka lied flat on his back while Fuji stretched languidly beside him.

“Wasn’t that fun?” Fuji asked, his voice serene like he hadn’t played thirty-minutes of Twister with physically impossible positions. Or so Tezuka used to think.

Tezuka took deep breaths. “It wasn’t very comfortable.”

“Of course it wouldn’t be, Mit-chan!” Fuji said happily, “It is Twister after all.”

Fair point.

Fuji turned his head to look at him and asked, “What do you want to do now?”

Tezuka shrugged once again. I’m too tired to think.

This time Fuji really grinned.

“Then let’s go bake a cake!” he announced, “I think your mom still has all the ingredients from the carrot cake we made the other day.”

Tezuka knew better than to complain.

“Upsy daisy, Kunimitsu! It’s time to call forth your inner Martha Stewart!”

I should really learn to stop shrugging.

--FSTK--

“Fuji. I don’t think you should open the—”

Too late. Boom. Splat.

“---oven.”

Tezuka sighed for the umpteenth time, “I told you we shouldn’t have placed that much baking soda.”

Fuji pulled out their destroyed cake from the oven and grinned.

“At least we didn’t burn the kitchen.”

Yeah, okaa-san would kill me if that happened.

Fuji dug his fork through the mess and held it up for Tezuka.

“Want to taste?”

The ‘cake’ on the spoon bubbled menacingly.

Tezuka turned a light shade of green. “No thank you.”

I think this isn’t quite what Martha Stewart imagined.

--FSTK—

An hour later.

“Syuusuke.”

“Yes, Kunimitsu?”

“What in heaven’s name do you think you’re doing?”

Fuji’s lips were glossed with lipshine and his cerulean eyes were lined in black liner. Quite flattering on him actually. If only he wasn’t a guy.

“Do I look pretty, Mit-chan?”

Tezuka wanted to say yes but his pride would not let him. It absolutely refuses to.

So he settled for: “Fuji, please take mother’s make up off your face.”

“Hai!”

--FSTK—

Fuji had, however, refused to wipe off the eyeliner with the reason that you had to remove it with baby oil or cold cream unless it would just smudge all over your eyes and make you look like you had eye bags. And besides, it made his blue eyes stand out. There was no way he’d pass up an opportunity to look ‘pretty’. Not that he wasn’t already, but still.

“What are we going to do now?”

Tezuka’s voice roused him from his thoughts. He had tired of trying to make Fuji stop doing crazy things after failing with each attempt.

Fuji paused for a moment and bit his lip. Tezuka thought he looked like a girl, more so than usual. This revelation of his caused him to blush and banish the thought completely out of his head. It was inappropriate to think such things while in a public park. Where people could see him, Tezuka Kunimitsu, blush. It was not a very manly thing to do. Not at all.

Fuji’s eyes wandered over the entirety of the park and declared, “I want ice cream.”

“We had ice cream at home,” Tezuka’s voice cracked just a bit, “Please tell me we did not just walk an hour and a half to get to this park for ice cream.”

Fuji pouted once more. And it still worked. Tezuka really needed to work on his Resist Fuji’s Cute Pout shield. It seemed to be failing him often, especially on this day.

“Fine. Let’s go get ice cream.”

Fuji held back a laugh. You are so easy to manipulate, Ku-ni-mit-su.

They approached the ice cream vendor quickly, hoping not to be last in line. There were at least ten other people but the line went fast. Everyone else was finishing his or her ice cream quickly so that the sun would not succeed in melting it. Then finally it was their turn.

“I’ll have chocolate,” Tezuka told the man, “Fuji? What about you?”

A devious smile suddenly formed on the tensai’s face.

“Well,” he said sweetly, “I’d like to order…”

--FSTK—

It was amazing how the vendor managed to get Fuji’s cone right.

“Never underestimate the skills of a pissed ice cream vendor.” Fuji said, licking his ice cream like a cat.

Tezuka licked some chocolate of his hand and asked, “Did you really have to order…all that?”

Fuji looked up at his tall cone.

“You mean my chocolate, strawberry, blueberry, mint chocolate chip, vanilla, brazo de Mercedes, cheese and ube ice cream with sprinkles chocolate syrup and chocolate shavings ice cream?”

Ube? Cheese? Nani?

“…yes.” Tezuka replied vaguely.

“Of course.” Fuji answered without hesitation.

A few minutes passed by then Fuji said quietly, “Look. The sun is setting.”

Fuji dragged him over to grassy spot facing the sunset and sat down. Tezuka followed in suite. The sun was slowing hiding behind the horizon. He turned his head towards the man beside him and allowed himself a small smile. The sunlight was bathing Fuji’s face in a golden glow and making his eyes shine brightly.

Tezuka grasped Fuji’s hand in his contentedly.

Ice cream really does taste much better with someone to share it with, even if they are slowly driving you to the point of insanity.

--FSTK—

Note from The Furry Yellow-Striped Koala:

Amazing what one can do when one is running on nothing but endorphins and chicken.

Review as you see fit!

Esu-chan (End Type: 2:17 AM, October 30, 2007)
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