Corrupting the Freshman

-Other Title Options:

If you were gay…

Tenimyu: The homo version

Living the gay life – IN SONG!

Tennis is not gay

Tennis players are a different story all together

Moby Dick

Disclaimer: had I won the legal battle to owning Prince of Tennis, not only would I be a VERY happy, happy woman, but the story would go faster. P

(A/N: really… what’s my excuse? Nada… shameless extensions of inside jokes, and such… totally corny… well… enjoy!

Chapter 1. The Woes of Ryoma Echizen

He should have trusted his instincts. He knew his day could not go right having woken up two hours late for class, spilt hot tea on his crotch, and thrown his beloved Himalayan cat Karupin out the window, into a careening car’s path, by accident.

Thank goodness cats had nine lives.

Unfortunately, Ryoma Echizen was the type of man (closer to a boy, really, as he was still in the wonderful awkward phase of being not a boy, not yet a man and – excuse me? Are those copyright hounds at my door? Please excuse me for a couple of seconds)

False alarm.

So as I was saying, Ryoma Echizen was the type of man-boy who liked to defy gravity, authority, the laws of physics, and, most importantly, whatever his common sense and instinct had to say.

Which is such a sad shame, because had he only heeded his instinct’s premonition-like advice to turn back and save his skinny, pretty ass, this story would have never happened, thus, perhaps, saving the reader the pain and grief of having to read such an account of poorly-written and pointless fiction.

But the point is, dear readers, that Ryoma, being the snarky freshman that he is, did not listen to his gut feeling. Instead, he remarked, in his own trademark manner:

‘Mada mada dane’

Normal people would have found something amiss had they realized that they were putting down and berating their own selves, but Ryoma wasn’t a normal person.

(Actually, he really is an alien sent unto earth in a space pod to escape the destruction of his home planet to a poor family in Kansas, but THAT, my folks, is another story meant for another occasion.)

Now where were we?

Ryoma noticed that something was off kilter as he passed the tennis team’s locker room.

The door had been left slightly ajar.

Having the curiosity of a cat (yet none of its nine lives), Ryoma opened the door all the way and saw that it looked like a tornado had just gone through the room. There was no apparent explanation why wrinkled Seigaku Regular uniforms were carelessly strewn all over the place along with tennis rackets and balls and… was that a pair of boxers?

Indeed it was.

Ryoma wrinkled his nose in distaste and would have left had he not heard something that children weren’t suppose to hear in an educational environment.

“Oooh…”

“Yeah… you’re so good...”

“Mmm…”

“Harder…”

He turned beet red when he realized the several tell-tale thumps and bumps accompanied the pleasured sounds. Horrified, he didn’t know what was worse – being in the vicinity of a group of people (that definitely sounded more than two people) doing the down and nasty, knowing that they were all guys, having ellipses follow every uttered sound in obvious misuse, or knowing that they were probably his teammates.

His teammates.

Teammates.

T-E-A-M-M-A-T-E-S.

Ryoma blanched.

Well, that was certainly the worst of the lot. Not even the overuse of ellipses or italics could top that!

Drawn to morbidly life-altering, traumatic, and mentally-scarring thoughts, he wondered just who it was. Was it the amiable Momoshiro who was an acclaimed guy’s guy (oh, in so many ways). Was it the sweet yet frightfully hyper Kikumaru? The mother-hen Oishi? The creepy and psychotic Inui? The not-as-creepy-but-certainly-just-as-psychotic-and-sadistic Fuji? The antisocial Kaidoh? Or –

- did he dare think of that possibility?

What if it was his beloved and respected buchou?

“Noooooo!!! Never!!!”

Silence.

The enticing sounds of sex (moaning, bumping, grinding, humping, thumping, pumping, house-party jumping, lumping, and oompa-loompa-ing) halted as they tried to discover the source of the intrusive noise.

Ryoma covered his mouth, although it was a tad too late. He should have waited until he was outside before crying out in clichéd horror.

“Mmm… what was that?” A voice feebly asked.

Oh sweet tennis balls and rackets that was Oishi’s voice!

“Hoi hoi! It was probably no one.”

Kikumaru-sempai?

“I think it sound like – “

“That was Echizen don’t you think?”

“Fshuu…”

“Oh… crap.”

Ryoma was hyperventilating. Why was he hearing Momo-sempai’s, Inui-sempai’s, Kaidoh-sempai’s, and Fuji-sempai’s voices all at once? Had he gone crazy? Was this some sick delusion due to his lack of nookie?

Ryoma decided that now seemed to be the perfect time to black out.

And so he did.

(A/N: Really… I still have no excuse. So I’ll end the first chapter here, smile at the blinking computer screen and hope that some good person decides to spare his or her time and review. I really enjoy feedback.