Popsicle, a prince of tennis fanfic

Title: Popsicle

Part: 1/1

Author: Laree McKenzie

Fandom: Prince of Tennis

Pairing: Momoshiro x Ryoma, Implied Tezuka x Fuji

Rating: PG13

Archive: http://i-wai.us/~yaoi-junkie

Warnings/Notes: Shounen-Ai content within, and a bit of innuendo, so be warned. I don't own Prince of Tennis, but I do believe that the boys should be started young when it comes to yaoi *snerk*. Remember, boysluts are best ^_~

He wanted to move. He wanted to get up and go to the school cafeteria to buy a cold bottle of mineral water that he could press against his throbbing forehead, but he just didn't have any energy to do so. He couldn't even be bothered to try and fan himself with his binder anymore. That would take far too much of an effort, and would be useless in the long run. Momoshiro had already pretty much resigned himself to the fact that he was being slowly roasted alive by the relentless heat of the sun.

Sweat was trickling down the back of his neck in rivulets. In fact, he seemed to be covered all over in a thin sheen of perspiration. It made him itchy and was a most uncomfortable feeling. The air was so thick with humidity that he had to struggle for every breath that he took, and everywhere he looked things seemed hazy, unfocused. He was probably going to pass out soon. That would be a blessing. At least then he'd be unconscious. Plus the school clinic was air-conditioned, not that he thought that that would help very much.

The bench that he was seated on shifted slightly as someone pushed aside Momoshiro's tennis bag and damp towels, then finally plopped down beside him with a soft sigh. He took no notice of it. He was busy running his fingers through his hair, trying to get the gelled up locks to stand upright in their customary spikes.

Great, the heat has even affected my hair. My crowning glory… he thought mournfully to himself. He gave up when the damp locks stubbornly kept falling limply back into place.

This was bad. He was being roasted alive, his hair was wilting, and he was sweating copiously, which would no doubt lead to death by dehydration. What a crappy ending for a guy like him that had always planned on going out in a great blaze of glory.

Thank god Captain Tezuka had had the sense to let them all take a few minutes break. Tezuka could be a slave driver at times, especially before the big competitions, but he did know how to take care of his players.

The other members of the Seigaku Tennis Club were scattered all about him in various states of complete lethargy. Captain Tezuka would have appeared as cool as always, had it not been for the way he was constantly taking off his glasses and wiping at the sweat beading on his forehead. Fuji's smile was looking a little strained as he toyed idly with his tennis racket. Kaido was scowling as he wiped at his face with his bandanna, Eiji was completely silent when usually he would be chattering away to Oishi, and Kawamura had covered as much of himself as possible with the towels that he'd soaked in ice water. Not a bad idea that, Momoshiro decided after a bit of thought.

He briefly considered getting up to do as Kawamura had, but dismissed the idea. There was no way that he was getting off that bench any time soon. He just couldn't be bothered anymore. Let him fry.

Something cold and damp landed on his lap. Needless to say, it surprised him. He swatted it away from him and jumped to his feet with a startled yelp, his previous sluggishness completely forgotten. He spun around to see what it was that had touched him, his eyes landing on a seemingly innocent, plastic wrapped package now lying on the floor.

Everyone was now looking at him. They probably thought he'd managed to sweat all his brains out or something. He wouldn't have been a bit surprised if that truly were the case.

"If you didn't want it, you could have just given it back to me." Came the soft, rather monotonous reprimand.

The second year blinked. He turned his attention to Echizen Ryoma, who was apparently the one that had made himself comfortable on the bench beside him just a while ago. He also probably had something to do with that 'thing', judging from his remark. "What is it?" Momoshiro asked, gesturing to it and frowning down at it suspiciously.

The younger boy had a long-suffering look on his face as he replied. "You've never seen a popsicle before? That's funny, because I could have sworn I've seen you eating them a couple of times in the past." This was what he got for trying to be thoughtful. He wondered why he even tried with Momoshiro-sempai. It got him nowhere.

Momoshiro had pounced on the fallen package as soon as he'd heard the word 'Popsicle' so Ryoma's sarcasm had gone completely unnoticed. He was also far too busy tearing the package open to notice when the kid rolled his eyes at the sight of him attacking the bright orange Popsicle with great fervor. "Thanks, Ryoma. I really appreciate it." His words were rather hard to make out, what with all of the satisfied slurping.

Maybe he wasn't going to melt into a little puddle of Momo-goo after all! He could have hugged the younger boy right then, he was that grateful. The only reason that he didn't was because he knew the standoffish first year would not appreciate being hugged in public.

The others were looking on enviously, all obviously wishing they had their own Popsicle to help alleviate the heat, so he made quick work of it, just in case anyone should get any ideas in their heads. Desperate men tended to do desperate things. One of them just might try to grab the icy treat from him in a last ditch effort to survive. Kaido was the most probable candidate to take such an action, Momoshiro therefore kept his eye on the scowling boy as he ate.

Ryoma watched all of this silently. He flashed him a look of immense disgust, not that the older boy even had the decency to notice. Momoshiro was acting like a starving pig, scarfing it down like that. Then again, he'd seen the older boy eat before so this shouldn't have come as much of a surprise.

He remembered his own relief when he'd devoured his first Popsicle of the afternoon. Unlike the others, he'd had enough sense to make a beeline for the school cafeteria as soon as Tezuka had given them a ten-minute break.

He'd experienced pure bliss as the icy treat had melted in his mouth, as he'd run his tongue along its smooth, cool surface. He couldn't remember ever having so thoroughly enjoyed anything as much as this. The feeling had been indescribable.

Licking his now parched lips, Ryoma fumbled around in his shorts pocket for his remaining Popsicle. He hadn't intended to give one to Momoshiro, he'd used his own money after all, and so he'd fully intended to eat all three that he'd purchased himself. But the older boy had looked so pathetic just sitting there, looking as though he were about to pass out and slide off the bench at any second.

He put Momoshiro out of his mind as he carefully peeled away the wrapper. This one was cherry-flavored, his favorite. That was why he'd saved it for last.

His throat was beginning to feel rather dry again, and any second now Captain Tezuka was probably going to call them back out onto the courts for another hour of torture.

He'd always loved tennis, nothing in the world could compare to the feeling that he got when he had a racket at hand and was facing a strong opponent, but he'd had enough for the afternoon. He highly doubted that Tezuka would care if he told him that, though. The older boy liked to push them as far past their limits as he possibly could, and he'd probably tell them that playing in weather like this was good for building up stamina or something.

A bit of the melted ice trickled down the popsicle stick onto his hand. The flavored ice water felt incredibly good against his overheated skin as his tongue darted out to lap it up. He didn't intend to let a bit of the popsicle go to waste. He let out a soft, contented little sigh. Delicious.

Meanwhile, all that remained of the older boy's popsicle was the stick, which Momoshiro was still sucking on, savoring the lingering flavor. He was just about to thank Ryoma one last time for saving his life, when he caught sight of what the younger boy was up to.

The kid wasn't doing anything particularly out of the ordinary, so Momoshiro couldn't understand why his jaw suddenly dropped open in amazement, the stick falling to the ground completely forgotten. His eyes simply bugged out as he watched Ryoma take the tip of the popsicle into his mouth, and swirl his tongue over it in apparent enjoyment, trickles of the melted popsicle dripping slowly down his chin. He wiped at the sticky liquid with his fingers, slowly drew the Popsicle out, and popped his fingers into his mouth to take its place.

By then, Momoshiro had to make a conscious effort to remember to breathe.

The fact that he was staring raptly at the first year as though he had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world did not escape the attention of Tezuka, who followed his example and fixed Ryoma under his gaze, wondering what it was that had so captivated the spiky haired boy.

Suddenly, Tezuka was feeling incredibly hot under the collar. Suddenly he couldn't move, he was rooted to the spot, and it had become even harder to breathe than before. He wasn't listening to Fuji talking anymore, the ever-smiling third year's voice seemed distant, as though it were coming from a long way off.

Tezuka was completely entranced as the boy took even more of the popsicle into his mouth, sucking on it rhythmically, his smooth white throat working, a look of intense absorption in his eyes as he used his free hand to swipe at the damp locks of his dark hair.

The Captain of the Seigaku Tennis Club gulped as he clenched his hands into fists by his sides. He licked his lips and darted a quick look at Momoshiro. He was gratified to see that he wasn't the only one reacting to Ryoma like that. Momoshiro looked even worse. As though he were having some sort of epic inner battle within himself. Plus he was beginning to breathe funny. Momoshiro sounded like he usually did after Tezuka made him run twenty laps around the courts.

Fuji had been right when he'd commented that Momoshiro seemed awfully fond of his young partner. He'd been smiling meaningfully up at Tezuka when he'd said that, as the two of them had watched the pair walk off to where the second year kept his bike. Now he understood what the guy had meant by that seemingly innocent comment.

Oh god, Momoshiro shut his eyes tight, counting to ten in his head in an effort to compose himself, and to block out the sight of Ryoma and that offending popsicle. It was just as well that he didn't know what Tezuka was currently thinking about, because he would have beaten himself up even more over it if he had. I am such a pervert. Don't do this, Takeshi! He's just a kid! You can't think about a kid in such a way! And a boy kid too! The voice in his head was beginning to sound slightly panicked.

Even so, Momoshiro just couldn't help himself. He'd never had much willpower to begin with, and after a few seconds, he risked another glance at the first year. He caught him just in time to see Ryoma slide the popsicle out of his mouth. The way that the boy's lips encircled the length of the cherry-flavored popsicle to the very last second, as though he didn't really want it out of his mouth, was strangely alluring.

"Ryoma?" His voice came out strange, even he could tell. It felt as though his mouth had gone completely dry. Was the kid doing it on purpose? Was he drawing that popsicle in and out of his mouth like that because he knew how suggestive it would look and was trying to make a point about how dirty minded he was or something?

The thing was that Momoshiro seriously doubted this. All of Ryoma's gestures seemed so innocent, not at all premeditated, which was quite frankly what made them even more fascinating. Ryoma didn't know what he was doing to him, or to anyone else that might be watching. He's too young to understand, the spiky-haired second year berated himself, so you just stop thinking that way. He's. Too. Young. "Hey, Ryoma?" He repeated when the younger boy did not respond.

"Yeah, Momo-sempai?" Ryoma sounded innocent enough, completely guileless. He pressed the popsicle against his parched lips as he looked up quizzically at his senior. Once in a while, his pink tongue darted into sight as he took another lick of the icy treat.

Momoshiro began to flap the front of his shirt back and forth in an effort to cool off. It was so hot! The cooling effect that the popsicle he'd consumed only moments before had worn off completely, and he wasn't entirely sure if only the heat of the sun was to blame for that.

He almost moaned when the younger boy ran his tongue up the whole length of the popsicle, eyes still fixed on him, waiting for his reply. He didn't know how much more he could take of this. He doesn't mean it that way…he doesn't mean it that way…He told himself over and over again, like it was some sort of strange mantra. What kind of perverted mind turns a perfectly innocent popsicle into a phallic symbol anyway? He cleared his throat, before he spoke again. "Better finish that up." He advised him, "Captain Tezuka is probably going to order us back on the court soon…"

"Yeah. Better finish that," Fuji spoke up suddenly, surprising Momoshiro and Ryoma both. The third year was still smiling, but Momoshiro hadn't missed the way that the older boy's foot had darted out and kicked at Tezuka's ankle once Fuji had realized what it was that had captivated him so. Apparently, Fuji had a bit of a jealous streak in him. "Otherwise, you might get into trouble." His words were apparently directed to Ryoma, but his eyes were fixed on Tezuka, who was now beginning to look slightly uncomfortable.

The first year watched disinterestedly as Fuji-sempai gestured for Tezuka to follow him before stalking off towards one of the deserted courts. The captain did so obediently, looking slightly apprehensive, for some reason. "What was that all about?" Ryoma asked Momoshiro. He didn't particularly mind the fact that Fuji had diverted the attention of their captain from practice, but it was strange to see Tezuka following someone around like that.

"Fuji-sempai's right, you know?" Momoshiro said. If he told the kid that underneath that completely in control exterior, Captain Tezuka was actually just a whipped man ordered around by his seemingly sweet uke, then Ryoma would probably have a lot of questions about ukes and semes and the general mechanics of the boy-boy relationship. He didn't think he would be able to handle such questionings, so he didn't even try to answer the kid's question.

Ryoma raised an eyebrow at this. "About what?"

"About the fact that you could get yourself into trouble if you carry on like that." Momoshiro informed him. He waggled his finger at Ryoma like a mother would while scolding a child that had been caught doing something naughty. He decided right then and there that he would have to keep a closer eye on the kid. Just to look out for him, of course. Ryoma was his teammate after all.

He plucked the popsicle from Ryoma's hand, taking no heed of his protests whatsoever, and dumped it in a nearby rubbish bin. Good riddance, he thought to himself. The popsicle made a soft squelching sound as it landed on top of a half eaten sandwich and a rotting apple core. He remembered Captain Tezuka, and the evil look on Fuji-sempai's face as he'd walked off. He felt awfully sorry for the captain. "In fact, you could get other people in trouble too. No more of that for you, Ryoma. They're bad for you. Believe me."

Without further explanation, Momoshiro ushered the boy off towards the school canteen. He needed a nice, cold drink, and Fuji-sempai was probably having a long discussion with Captain Tezuka about his roving eye.

Beside him, the younger boy was unwrapping something. The spiky-haired second year didn't give it any further thought until he saw what it was that Ryoma was holding: a big, bright red lollipop that he popped into his mouth and began to suck on with great relish.

Momoshiro shook his head. He was convinced that there was some sort of plot against him and his heterosexuality. He closed his eyes and let out a low sound of anguish that attracted the attention of Ryoma, who spun the lollipop stick about so that the candy swirled around in his mouth.

He is just a boy, Momoshiro reminded himself as he shoved his hands deep into his shorts pockets and tried to ignore the sounds of Ryoma enjoying his candy, he is just a boy…

The End of the Beginning ^_~

Heeheehee…A stupid, pointless little ficlet that just had to be written. *shrugs* I'm sorry I wasted thirty-minutes or so of your life ^_^.

Comments, Corrections, Flames and all that would be appreciated since this is my first PoT fic.

Laree