Categories > Anime/Manga > Prince of Tennis > Glow
Glow
by Charis
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is not mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: The first line kind of snowballed. Yuushi is a sexy bastard (and a total sap), and I like him with Atobe more than I ever expected to (why is stuff with that pairing so hard to find?). And I will now have to hand in my "I don't do yaoi" card. hides The last line sucks majorly.
He falls in lust easily, quick and bright as the heat lightning which sears across the summer sky. The joining, when it comes, is like those nights, dark and damp and hot enough to burn, but though it may feel like an eternity, it is gone in a flash. Such reaction is transitory, and while he is fifteen and his hormones run high and lusts are common, when there is nothing more, the emotion does not linger.
Love does. He has always known this: hopeless romantic that he is, he reads of first loves that persist even across years and distance, and sighs quietly at the thought. In the storybooks and movies, there are two types of endings, one tragic enough to make him cry, and one which makes him smile through the tears. He knows that, most often, neither is true.
He falls in lust with his doubles partner, who is lithe and quick and foul-minded and inventive. They're good together, on and off the court. Sometimes, he thinks that he should be able to love the redhead, at least with the kind of passion that a junior high boy brings to such things. In the stories, fifteen is more than old enough for true romance, even if the development may take years. Romeo and Juliet were younger. But though he reads, in the sudden gentling of Gakuto's touch or the hooded look from beneath pointed bangs, something that might be more than lust, there is no answering in him, and he says nothing even as he sees the damage done.
He plays singles at Nationals.
He's realised the problem by then: his heart, all unnoticed, has already tangled itself up in another. The aphorism speaks of loving the one you're with if you can't be with the one you love, but in such matters he has never been pragmatic. To do such a thing would be false, and love is the one place where he cannot brook lies. And so he tells himself, yes, I love him, as he sits watching, until the near-coma of post-match exhaustion becomes natural sleep. I love him, he thinks, even if he turns out to be lost to me, and it occurs to him that perhaps it is a strange thought for fifteen, but it is like a story.
When Atobe begins to stir, Yuushi closes the book and leaves it behind on the chair.
- finis -
by Charis
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is not mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: The first line kind of snowballed. Yuushi is a sexy bastard (and a total sap), and I like him with Atobe more than I ever expected to (why is stuff with that pairing so hard to find?). And I will now have to hand in my "I don't do yaoi" card. hides The last line sucks majorly.
He falls in lust easily, quick and bright as the heat lightning which sears across the summer sky. The joining, when it comes, is like those nights, dark and damp and hot enough to burn, but though it may feel like an eternity, it is gone in a flash. Such reaction is transitory, and while he is fifteen and his hormones run high and lusts are common, when there is nothing more, the emotion does not linger.
Love does. He has always known this: hopeless romantic that he is, he reads of first loves that persist even across years and distance, and sighs quietly at the thought. In the storybooks and movies, there are two types of endings, one tragic enough to make him cry, and one which makes him smile through the tears. He knows that, most often, neither is true.
He falls in lust with his doubles partner, who is lithe and quick and foul-minded and inventive. They're good together, on and off the court. Sometimes, he thinks that he should be able to love the redhead, at least with the kind of passion that a junior high boy brings to such things. In the stories, fifteen is more than old enough for true romance, even if the development may take years. Romeo and Juliet were younger. But though he reads, in the sudden gentling of Gakuto's touch or the hooded look from beneath pointed bangs, something that might be more than lust, there is no answering in him, and he says nothing even as he sees the damage done.
He plays singles at Nationals.
He's realised the problem by then: his heart, all unnoticed, has already tangled itself up in another. The aphorism speaks of loving the one you're with if you can't be with the one you love, but in such matters he has never been pragmatic. To do such a thing would be false, and love is the one place where he cannot brook lies. And so he tells himself, yes, I love him, as he sits watching, until the near-coma of post-match exhaustion becomes natural sleep. I love him, he thinks, even if he turns out to be lost to me, and it occurs to him that perhaps it is a strange thought for fifteen, but it is like a story.
When Atobe begins to stir, Yuushi closes the book and leaves it behind on the chair.
- finis -
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