For the 30_kisses challenge.
#7, Superstar. Tezuka/Ryoma, and this is, oh god, so much fluff. WHY AM I SO EMBARRASSING. 978 words.
Ryoma maintained a sulky silence all the way back to their hotel room. Tezuka let it last until they were safe behind closed doors, then remarked while changing out of his suit, �It�s flattering of you to be jealous after nearly four years.�
Ryoma said, �Hmmph,� and sat down on his side of the bed. �I don�t like the way girls look at you.�
Tezuka smiled. �Maria Sharpova looks at everyone that way. She meant nothing by it.�
�Did you have to ask her to dance?� Ryoma asked sullenly.
�We were seated side by side. It would have been rude not to,� Tezuka said gently, sitting next to him. Ryoma placed a hand on his knee.
�Well, I don�t like it,� he said. �Every year we come to this thing and it�s the same thing, those women fawn all over you.�
Tezuka, ignoring the point that the same thing could easily be said of all the women who routinely crowded around Ryoma, placed his fingers against Ryoma�s cheek. �Are you saying you want to come out before Wimbledon?�
Ryoma pouted. �No.� He scooted closer and leaned his head on Tezuka�s shoulder. �Not right before. Maybe�maybe right after.�
In spite of his best efforts, Tezuka�s smile grew bigger. �What would you do, hold a press conference?�
�Maybe.� Ryoma slipped a hand under Tezuka�s shirt and ran it lazily over Tezuka�s chest. �It�d be more interesting than just winning. The news people would have something new to talk about.� Tezuka allowed himself to be pushed back against the mattress. Ryoma leaned over him. �They could chase you around instead of me.�
�They wouldn�t pay less attention to you,� Tezuka retorted, reaching up to unbutton Ryoma�s shirt. Ryoma, instead of helping, made the task more difficult by wriggling closer and pushing Tezuka�s shirt up to hum kisses over his stomach. �They would pay more to both of us. The press has an infinite ability to multiply.�
His voice was light, but Ryoma still looked up in concern. �So you don�t want people to know?� he asked. �Not ever, Buchou?�
The last word slipped out, and Tezuka was sure Ryoma hadn�t meant to say it. It was something he only called Tezuka anymore during moments of extreme intimacy.
Tezuka blinked up at him, and for a moment focused on deliberately undoing the rest of the buttons on Ryoma�s shirt, sliding it over his pale shoulders. Ryoma returned the favor, and laid his head on Tezuka�s bare chest.
�I don�t think you�re ready to take on the dual role of youngest Grand Slam champion in history and poster-child for gay athletes,� Tezuka said carefully.
Ryoma snuggled closer, and Tezuka threaded fingers through his hair. �But I�ll have you to help me,� Ryoma said with a yawn. �It�s not like anything could happen to mess us up.�
Tezuka kissed the top of Ryoma�s head. �You would have new responsibilities, duties you never asked or expected�about things that have nothing to do with tennis.�
Ryoma shrugged as best he could while lying stretched out against Tezuka.
�You�ve always been able to ignore other people�s opinions,� Tezuka continued, thinking �able to ignore� was the understatement of the evening. �But it would become harder, much much harder. I don�t know if you realize just how much would change.�
Ryoma stilled and went silent for a moment. Tezuka continued to stroke his hair, concentrating on the rise and fall of Ryoma�s stomach against his.
�Well,� said Ryoma after another moment. �I do a lot of interviews and get my picture on the cover of
The Advocate, and lots of fans start to hate me because I�m suddenly a fag, and I have to watch how I act because how I behave will reflect badly on the world of tennis and gay people everywhere. Is that basically it?�
Tezuka�s hand slowed. �Yes,� he said blankly. �More or less.�
�And in exchange I get to take you as my date to these stupid banquets so I don�t wind up having to talk to people I barely know while I watch you spend the whole night being molested by the Williams sisters?�
�Yes,� Tezuka responded, as something warm and dear surged through him, swelling his chest. �Though I may still occasionally ask women to dance.�
�You shouldn�t," Ryoma scowled. �You�re terrible at it.� He looked up at Tezuka. �It doesn�t seem that bad,� he said. �It doesn�t matter how much changes, only
what changes.�
Tezuka�s hand stilled where he touched Ryoma's hair. �I suppose,� he said cautiously.
�Our friends already know,� Ryoma continued, �and our families. I�d rather have to do some stupid interviews where I talk about how great you are then wind up in a tabloid because somebody snapped pictures of us having sex on a beach.�
�We will never have sex on a beach.�
�It was just an example.�
�Or anywhere someone might have hidden a camera.�
�Geez, you�re so boring.� Ryoma flopped over on his back and quickly slipped out of the rest of his clothes. �What am I doing with a guy like you?�
�Waiting for Atobe to make it to a Grand Slam final, clearly,� said Tezuka wryly. He reached across Ryoma, who was burrowing under the covers, and turned out the light. �Goodnight.�
�Ryoma caught his hand in the dark and said, suddenly very close to Tezuka, �I don�t think it�ll be bad at all. Coming out with you.�
�Think about it before you come to a decision,� Tezuka replied. He could feel Ryoma�s nod against his shoulder.
�Buchou?� Tezuka opened his eyes. �I hope we win.�
Tezuka laced their fingers together. �We can�t both win.�
In the dark Ryoma�s eyes shone. �But we can get close,� he said. �I want you to be the last person I play.�
�Goodnight, Echizen,� Tezuka answered, and slept with Ryoma�s hand tucked in his.