Title: Sunrise Routine
By: Lucifer Hisaki
Disclaimer: I don't own Tenipuri or we be seeing orgies upon orgies of yummy yaoi smex
Theme/Challenge (both number and theme title): 2 - Blurry of Lj Comm 40baisers
Fandom: Tennis No Oujisama/Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Atobe Keigo/Fuji Syuusuke/Echizen Ryoma/Sanada Genichirou/Tezuka Kunimitsu
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1138
Summary: Post AtWBA, no spoilers save for part 1. They all might be blurs in his vision but they were his blurs
Notes: For the 1st month anniversary of creation! Hope you all enjoy!


Sunrise Routine
By Lucifer Hisaki


Blinking his eyes open, Kunimitsu groaned a bit and turned to the side. The sun wasn't even out yet and his biological clock already rang. Despite what many may think, Tezuka Kunimitsu was not a morning person. He just conditioned himself to wake up early.

Draping an arm over his eyes, he slowly began to move away from the bed warmers to his left. His glasses were on the night stand to his right but he didn't go out to reach for them. Sitting up a bit more, he braced himself on his left elbow and looked at the sleeping quartet still dozing in the pre-dawn. The edges of his lips quirked upwards just a tad as he used his right hand to brush away some stray strands of hair out of the eyes of the shortest.

He didn't have the perfect 20/20 vision and without his glasses he won't be able to decipher what colored line tennis balls to hit. He could only see blurs of color and smudged lines. Keigo once commented to go ahead and buy contacts, Syuusuke and Genichirou sided with the diva. Ryoma just stayed silent but he knew that the youngest didn't want him to get the contacts.

His glasses were just who he was. It may be a liability in tennis sometimes but he grew to appreciate it. He wouldn't be Tezuka without them. He would just be Kunimitsu. Ryoma still wanted his Buchou.

Syuusuke understood to an extent on why Kunimitsu didn't buy the contact lenses. He just didn't comprehend how much the former Seigaku Buchou grew attached to his glasses. Genichirou just shrugged the issue and like Keigo didn't understand why he never went for something that might improve his game.

Ryoma understood how much Kunimitsu was only Kunimitsu with his glasses. Ryoma may be unpredictable but he disliked drastic change most of all. It had something to do with losing his father at age 15. Ryoma was completely lost and had almost died because he lost his father and his ambition in tennis. Kunimitsu's blood just grew cold at the memory of the cold body in his arms. Shaking his head, he dispelled the memory and watched as the emerging rays of sun started to flood the windows.

Genichirou was still asleep but the only awaked member knew that he would stay that why until roughly half an hour after sunrise. He would be followed by Syuusuke and then usually Keigo. Ryoma was last unless he was forced to wake up by any of his lovers or their morning romping.

That would be Keigo's fault… and Syuusuke's. Kunimitsu had nothing to do with it even though he would always have a morning boner in this bed. There was a reason that cold showers were invented after all.

Laying there as the sun took its time to begin the morning, the room for once was quiet and peaceful. No moaning at all and if he played his cards right, then there won't be until after noon.

Kunimitsu looked at the blurs of colors he knew were his lovers' faces. Genichirou had the darkest skin color, a bronze olive that he developed during his training in the sun despite him still wearing a cap. Ryoma had a light olive skin tone; it wasn't white or too dark. It's not quite tan and not too pale. It was just something in between that no one he met seemed to have. Syuusuke was a healthy pinkish pale that did not want to tan no matter how long he stayed outside taking care of his cacti or taking pictures. Keigo's skin had a slight tan to it. His was a little darker than Syuusuke's and a little light than Kunimitsu's own lightly tanned olive skin.

Just at the tops of those skin tones was a different type of rainbow. Each were vastly different from the rest. Kunimitsu had a light brownish tea and in his opinion was the most normal of the rest. With a head of ever changing copper tones, Syuusuke slumbered as he tightened his hold on his human pillow. A deep ebony midnight donned the tallest person's head as he snored softly into his feathered pillow. Keigo had a color that Kunimitsu knew he would never name. It fit his personality, eye catching and flamboyant.

Looking down at the last and the smallest of the group, Ryoma was a head of a deep emerald black. He couldn't tell if it was dyed or natural on first sight but after many tumbles in the sheets, it was natural. Which was odd considering hardly anyone else in his family had that same hair except for Nanako-san.

Here, watching his other lovers sleep and dream, Kunimitsu knew he was home. It was the tranquil of morning and the warmth of other living bodies. The sun continued to filter in through the windows and some of the frost melted on the panes. Karupin, the devil cat, was not to be seen. Personally, he thought that maybe that neko might be in Keigo's personal closet again sharpening its claws, again.

They all might be blurs in his vision but they were his blurs, although they did get on his nerves more often than not. He found love in the arms of not one but four people he cherished and always will for the rest of his life, no matter how short that may be considering the amount of stress he gains from them alone.

A rare smile appeared slowly like the dawn as he sat upright to gaze on each person individually. With no rush, he slipped out from under the covers and padded down into the bathroom to start his morning routine of personal hygiene.

Once he was done, he walked into his own closet and removed a small box from behind some old jackets from his school years. It was a plain box with no adornment save for some Celtic knots on the side. He couldn't see it though; his glasses were still on the night stand. He did see the blurs of silver and gold on a deep blue velvet cloth that incased the box. He caressed the soft cloth with his thumb reverently and absently traced the lines of Celtic knots.

He knew what was inside. He only bought it some days before. It was perfect.

As he dressed in some sweats, he put back the box in its hiding place. He only took it out in the morning, a ritual since he retrieved it. Taking one last look at the four on the bed, he closed the door and left a couple words on an imaginary breeze.

"Happy Anniversary, itooshi-tachi."

There will be time for celebration later as he left the front door behind, unlocked and ran his morning jog.


Post Notes: This came out so much easier than the last Tezuka introspection.

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