Title: The Green-Eyed Wench, Stage Name: Jealousy
Author: SVZ
Fandom: TeniPuri
Pairing: TezuRyo and Atobe/Fuji
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own TeniPuri.
Notes: Inspired by Kish. Much love to her. Although I tried to be serious (for what, a total of five seconds?), this turned out to be crack as I tried to milk all the cliches I could.

The Green Eyed Wench, Stage Name: Jealousy

Ryoma feels an irrational wave of jealousy wash over him when he sees Buchou conversing with the Monkey King with only the chain-linked fence separating them. Their voices are low and Buchou’s expression looks entirely too thoughtful, distracting him from the match at hand.

He almost misses his serve because of it.

As always when paired up against Fuji, they’re ordered to stop before things got good, making Ryoma wonder if they’ll ever finish a match.

“Good game, Ryoma-kun.” Fuji smiles, handing Ryoma his water bottle while nodding in Tezuka’s direction. “They seem to be having an interesting conversation, ne?” He laughs when he sees Ryoma’s expression turn dark at the remark and claps a hand on Ryoma’s shoulder. “They’re probably discussing something team-related.”

Ryoma doesn’t reply. He watches Buchou and Atobe with narrowed eyes. Finally, Atobe gives a firm nod, saying in a voice loud enough for him to hear, “Reservations. Eight o’clock. Don’t be late, Tezuka,” before stepping inside his limo and driving off.

Ryoma looks at Fuji out of the corner of his eye and sees Fuji staring at the Tezuka with wide open eyes.

“Ne, Fuji-sempai, are you busy after practice?” he asks, already knowing Fuji’s answer.

“I don’t have any plans.”

“Would you like to see a movie?” Ryoma asks, eyes glinting.

“But Ryoma,” Fuji demurs, eyes just as sharp. “It’s a school night.”

“I’ll bring you back early and I’m sure Tezuka wouldn’t mind if you copy his math homework before class tomorrow.”

“Then it’s a date,” Fuji settles, smiling. He doesn’t say a word when Ryoma slips his hand into his and they make their way towards the locker room.

Tezuka is left staring at the backs of the two retreating figures, ultimately feeling very very confused and perchance even a bit lonely.

The movie, for lack of a better word, sucks. Ryoma regrets shelling out a week’s allowance for watching such rot, but he suppose it was worth it once he quickly realizes Tezuka is sitting two rows behind and four to the left.

Fuji and Ryoma make a big show of holding hands and whispering sweet nothings to each other (more like, Ryoma tries his best not to snort while Fuji quotes highly questionable love poetry with creative metaphors). Their reflexes; sharpen by tennis and looming threats of Inui Juice comes in handy when an annoyed patron of the fine art of Horribly Cliché Cross-dressing Zombie Movies tosses his jumbo tub of overpriced popcorn at them. Predictably, it misses and the poor fellow makes an enemy of a red-handbag wielding woman with a dead animal hat. A scuffle ensues, much to Fuji’s amusement.

Ryoma heaves a sigh as he tries to drag Fuji out of the theater.

“But I want to see what happens next,” Fuji protests, gesturing at the movie screen. “Look, his brain is being sucked out through bendy straws and there’s still the mystery of who killed the alien chief.”

“The butler did it,” Ryoma deadpans, pulling on Fuji’s arm. He winces when he sees a theater employee with a flashlight heading towards the scuffle behind them. Not good. Although the horrified expression on Buchou’s face is sort of funny. But granted, Ryoma supposed he would probably look the same way if an irate grandmotherly woman straddles a man and wallops him repeatedly with her handbag occurred at his very feet. “Come on, I can probably download this entire movie online. I’ll burn it on a CD for you. Let’s go.”

“If you insist,” Fuji sighs. “Where to, next?”

“McDonalds,” Ryoma says, as though it were obvious.

“Such a romantic.” Fuji sighs again. “Lead the way.”

Ryoma rolls his eyes. He’s beginning to think that Fuji and the Monkey King were made for each other. Drama queens. Both of them.

“Remind me never offer to pay for your food again,” Ryoma says to Fuji with wide eyes. “Never again. You’re lucky I stole my dad’s credit card.” For someone so slender, Fuji can sure pack away a lot of hamburgers. Ryoma wonders how he could have possibly missed Fuji’s black hole for a stomach from all the Seigaku victory parties.

Fuji shrugs. “Fine. Keigo usually pays for me anyway.” Ignoring Ryoma’s expression of disgust at the mention of Atobe’s first name, Fuji checks his watch and smiles apologetically. “I’m expected at home. Thanks for the meal, Ryoma-kun. See you at school tomorrow and don’t forget to download the movie!”

“Sure, Fuji-sempai.” Ryoma winces and adds “illegally obtain ‘When Crossing Dressing Alien-Zombies Hybrids Attack Part IV’ “to his to do list. Out loud, he says, “Buchou, you can stop hiding behind the newspaper now.” He looks directly at the booth in front of him.

Tezuka coughs, folding the aforementioned newspaper and laying it at the table. “How long have you known?”

“Since you came in and ordered.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“You ordered Earl Gray tea with lemon. At McDonalds. And your waitress kept finding excuses to come by your table to refill your already full cup. Another girl walked right past you and was so busy gawking that she walked directly into a garbage can.”

“…Oh.”

“Not to mention your newspaper was upside down.”

Tezuka clears his throat. “I’m under the impression that you’re upset with me, Echizen. You went out on a date with Fuji to make me jealous.”

Ryoma nods, glaring at Tezuka as though Tezuka had been going around molesting cats.

Tezuka feels rather ill at ease. “Echizen… did I do something wrong when I spoke with Atobe?”

Instead of answering his boyfriend directly (ex-boyfriend Ryoma reminds himself), he scowls and asks him pointedly, “Shouldn’t you get ready for your date with him?”

Tezuka blinks several times. “I don’t think I understand,” he says, slowly. “My date with whom?”

Ryoma looks Tezuka strangely. “With Atobe. Eight o’clock, remember? Reservations? Most likely at some expensive restaurant with snooty French wait staff and an unpronounceable name?”

Tezuka stares at Ryoma for a minute before taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples. “Echizen,” he begins slowly. “I don’t have an arranged date with Atobe.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t. Atobe managed to get me a reservation at a highly exclusive restaurant for tonight for us.”

“Us?” Ryoma’s beginning to feel like a parrot.

“Us. You and me.” Tezuka puts his glasses back on. “I’m not sure what you heard… but I intended to ask you out for dinner after practice today.”

“Oh.” That makes a lot of sense, Ryoma realizes. He feels as though pieces of a puzzle were finally clicking into place. “Oh shit. I need to call Fuji-sempai,” he adds, seeing Tezuka’s confusion. “He’s pissed as hell at Atobe.”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” Tezuka comments. “He said he was going home, right?”

“Right,” Ryoma nods. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“He moved in with Atobe last week. Atobe’s probably, er, explaining the entire situation to him right now.”

In other words, Atobe and Fuji are probably engaged in some hot sex right now, Ryoma’s brain supplied. The mental images that came with the sudden revelation caused Ryoma to shudder.

“Anything wrong?” Tezuka asks, a flicker of concern crossing over his features.

“No, nothing. Erm… we still have time,” Ryoma says, glancing at his watch and trying to rid himself of the horrible, horrible mental images of Fuji and Atobe and the two of them together and naked and worst of all, having sex. “We can probably still make the reservations. What's the name of the place, anyway?”

“La Pitchouli de Loulou,” Tezuka answers with a passably decent French accent. “We’ll probably have to change out of our school uniforms to be admitted though.”

Well, at least he was right about the unpronounceable name part, Ryoma thinks. “Er, Buchou… tell you what? How about we take a rain check on the reservation and I'll come over to your house. We have dinner there. Like how Fuji-sempai and the Monkey King are having dinner.”

“My grandfather and my parents are out of the country tonight,” Tezuka says, puzzled, also purposely ignoring his boyfriend's impolite reference to Atobe.

“Exactly,” Ryoma beams, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Oh,” Tezuka says, blinking a few times. ”Oh.”

Tezuka quickly fumbles for his wallet to pay for his cheque. Moments later, Ryoma’s hand is in his as they make their way towards Tezuka’s house for some nice, hot, make-up sex.

--fin--

Notes: Much thanks to Kish and Lauren for humoring me and reading excerpts of this over. Horribly unbeta'ed, constructive criticism and comments much welcomed. Feel free to point out typos!

(Originally posted on LJ 2-25-06)