Ryoma wandered through the hallways of the Atobe mansion which was unusually quiet. Even though the five inhabitants were generally quiet men (unless Atobe was in diva-mode or Syuusuke was wreaking havoc, or there were sexy-time afoot) the rooms were still filled with the sounds of television, computers, maids' hushed conversations and the common aura of loudness that comes with a people filling its rooms.

No, this was the kind of silence that was unnerving, to put it lightly. Really, Ryoma is worrying. Ryoma nearly never worries, but then, he does know who he is dating. He also knows that they are devious, plotting freaks who cannot and should not be trusted. It's part of what makes them great tennis players and lovers.

So, as previously established, the house is quiet. The maids seem to have been dismissed- which is strange, because Atobe never dismisses all of them at one time. Something huge must be going down.

Ryoma can only deduce, being the clever, observant young man that he is (also, he knows his boyfriends, this fact has not changed in one paragraph's time), that this 'something' is connected to him. That's one of the few reasons that he would not be aware of the mysterious lack of people in their home. That's the only logical reason. Well, logical by normal standards. But, again, since when have those men been logical? It could be that they just forgot to inform him of some crucial information.

It's around this train of thought that Ryoma realizes he thinks in italics. Like, a lot. See? It's habitual, but he really needs to stop it, because it's kind of gay.

Then Ryoma thinks that the 'not-gay' ship sailed a long, long time ago. Like, back when he decided it was totally okay and dandy to bend over for not one, but four men on a more than regular (re: daily, at least) basis. Ryoma also realizes he's kind of a whore.

Throughout all of these earth shattering (okay, not so much) realizations, Ryoma notices that he has come to he has come to their shared bedroom door. Which is locked. It's never locked. Seriously, never (and again with the damn italics, shit) locked. Even with all the shameless, gay, kinky, blasphemous and other naughty adjectives sexy-times that go on behind that door, which their lucky to even remember to close through their lust-clouded haze, so it is never, ever locked.

That fact is even more suspicious than the lack of noise and boyfriends.

Upon the discovery of all this evidence of evil, bad, cannot-possibly-bode-well circumstances, Ryoma does the only logical thing-

"Open this door, Syuusuke! Keigo, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I know I won't like it. Kunimitsu! I will declare celibacy for an undetermined amount of time if that's what it takes to get into that room. I mean it, Genichirou." Ryoma shouts, banging his fist against the door.

He hear the sound of shuffling and a few curses before the door is flung open, revealing a smiling Fuji, smirking Atobe, a guilty-looking Sanada and a…stoic-looking Tezuka.

Ryoma goes for the easiest target.

"What were you doing in here Gen-kun? And why didn't you want me to find out?" Ryoma asks, pouting. He's going for the 'upset uke that may possibly ban sex if not compensated' look. He succeeds.

Sanada bows his head and his gaze darts fleetingly to the drawer in the bedside table. "Uh…Ryo-chan, I can…uh…" Ryoma thanks Kami for his smaller stature, which without, he would never have caught the small eye movement on his taller boyfriend's face.

Ryoma stifles his smirk, slipping into the room and around Genichirou. He casually makes his way to the table. And the Atobe not so subtly moves directly in front of it.

Ryoma moves left, Atobe follows. Ryoma swoops left, feints right and darts left, Atobe follows.

Ryoma glares up at his lover," Move."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't? I'm sure I can persuade you," Ryoma licks his lips. Sexily, might I add?

"I can't." Atobe's resolve is obviously weakening.

"Saa, Kei-chan, why are you being so evasive? I'll show you what we were doing, ne, Ryo-chan?" Syuusuke says, his lips flickering into a smirk quickly before morphing back into the sweet, innocent smile it usually forms.

Ryoma huffs," Che, fine."

Syuusuke gently bumps Atobe out of the way, allowing access to the drawer. He opens it and pulls out what appears, at first, to be a bunch of papers, but a closer glance reveals to Echizen that it is actually a pile of pictures. Not terribly old, but definitely not new photographs.

"Really? Photos? That's the big surprise? Photos? No conspiracies for kinky bondage or a romantic date followed by a tennis match and then ruthless sex?" Ryoma asks. (Okay, maybe he's kind of a freak too.) Ryoma sighs and turns to leave the room.

Fuji, obviously filing away Ryoma's suggestions for later perusal , holds out the pile to the younger male.

"Ryoma, maybe you should take a look at them? They might bring back some fond memories." Fuji says saccharinely.

Ryoma stops at the door and turns around, eyeing Fuji suspiciously.

"What do you mean by 'fond memories'?" Ryoma inquires.

Fuji cocks his head, holding out the stack of photos.

Ryoma takes them unsurely, glancing around at his other lovers, who seem vaguely amused, except Atobe, who seems outright smug and amused.

Ryoma glances at the topmost photo. Then does a double-take and triple-and-quadruple-takes, by the tenth look, it finally registers that the baby in that picture, is indeed him. The second photograph is of him as well, holding his first tennis racquet, and one of him with Ryoga, and another of him in only a diaper, and is that him in the bathtub? Naked? His boyfriends were hiding from him to look at these?

"Ryo-chan, you were quite an adorable child." Atobe taunted.

Ryoma glared, two twin patches of pink flaring on his cheeks, even Tezuka was smirking at this point.

"Shut up, Keigo." Ryoma spat out between gritted teeth.

"What was that, Ry-o-ma?" Fuji asked, enunciating every syllable in his name.

Ryoma looked up again; his boyfriends were converging on him with varying dark look in their eyes. Looks which did not comfort him or bode well for his ass. He was dating bigger freaks than he thought.

"Who is the freak, Ryoma?" Tezuka whispered, his lips grazing the shell of Ryoma's ear.

"Never…mind…"Ryoma trailed off, allowing the photographs to escape his grip and flutter to the ground as he was swept toward the bed by his lovers.

Total. Freaks. But, the sex was good, so he wasn't going to complain. Yet.

But Ryoma was so going to get up after the others were passed out in post-coital bliss in order to dispose of the horrid, embarrassing, incriminating pictures.

Damn italics.

A/N: That…was way longer than I intended. But hopefully good.

Also, most of Ryoma's realizations were based on the authoress' tendencies to portray him as an effeminate whore. At least, that's the implication I was shooting for. Yay.

Happy late Christmas and almost new year, everyone! (Well, technically it is New Year's Even. Or, eh, eve morning? I dunno.)

Yeah, the freaks was a kind if ripped off from that one OT5 story, Wasabi Flavored Kisses by Shadow-of-Roses. It's an older fic, but classic, in my opinion. I'm sure most everyone has read it, but if you haven't…go, read! (It's not a new find though.)

Uh, this is a really long author's note, so I'm gonna end it before it gets to an embarrassing length!

Hope you enjoyed reading! Happy assorted holidays!