Author: Hi everybody, this is my first fanfic ever! It turned out to be a one-shot, though.
Ryoma: Because she's too lazy to write anything longer than that.
Author: *glares* Well, even if that's a fact, please read and review!
Ryoma: Criticism is welcome as well, cuz that's all a story like this will get.
Author: Shuddup. Anyways, let's continue, shall we? =D Enjoy!
We Are Our Differences
Atobe sighed as he lay down on the triple king sized bed, staring at the ceiling. It had been their differences that had brought them together, him and Echizen Ryoma. A smile graced his lips as he relaxed, remembering the times that their unique personalities had pushed them together instead of apart.
Echizen slid into the booth, skimming through the menu even though he had already memorized what he wanted long ago. Atobe, on the other hand, took his time reading each choice and description, while skipping over the price.
"What the heck is this? A strawberry parfait with syrup, but no actual strawberries? This is not fit for ore-sama's exquisite taste preferences. Ryoma, ore-sama is positive he could bring you to a much more dignified restaurant-"
"Shut up and order something."
Echizen motioned for a waitress to come, who fixed her hair and tied her apron around her waist extremely, EXTREMELY tight before sauntering over and giggling.
"How may I help you, fine gentlemen?" She flipped her hair, leaning on the table in a supposedly seductive way.
"One slice of Brazilian chocolate cake, please." Atobe lay his cheek on his left palm, winking. "Nothing less than the best for ore-sama."
"And for you, sir?" The waitress continued fluttering her eyelashes at Echizen.
She looked disappointed at the lack of reaction, but nodded and walked away, constantly staring at him from across the room while waiting for the chef to prepare their orders.
Echizen sighed. What more did she want? More flirting and pointless conversation? Well, sorry, but there's an Atobe Keigo right next to me who doesn't mind flirting with freaking EVERYBODY even when his freaking boyfriend is sitting right next to him.
Atobe nudged him in the side.
"Ryoma, ore-sama knows you love my astounding presence, but could you please move so ore-sama could use the restroom."
Ryoma sighed, sliding out of the seat and waiting for Keigo to get out before sitting back down again. Keigo's brush of his hand over the waitress's waist didn't escape his attention, but after months and months of it, he didn't quite care anymore.
Heh, might as well see what's so great about flirting anyways. Just to see Keigo's reaction.
Ryoma smiled, a glint of sadism flashing across his eyes before he stretched, making sure that his shirt rode up just so his chiseled abs and slim figure were noticeable.
"Sir, would you like some company?"
(A/N: I don't think waitresses are allowed to do that... but what the heck.)
The waitress leaned on her hip in a way that disgusted him, but he flashed a sickeningly bright smile.
"I would love to have you accompany me until he gets back. And Ryoma's just fine, by the way."
Out of the corner of his eye, Ryoma could see Keigo returning. He leaned on his elbows, making sure his face was closer to the waitress's.
"So, Ryoma then-"
"Ehem. Ore-sama demands his seat back this instance. What type of service is this, for ore-sama's seat to be occupied merely because he left for a moment?" Keigo towered over her, his eyes glaring a steely grey.
The waitress jumped, smoothing down her skirt and apologizing hastily before scurrying away.
Ryoma rose his eyebrows.
But flinched when he felt a strong, muscular arm sliding around his waist and sliding him closer.
"I saw her making elevator eyes at you from across the restaurant, Ryoma, and I don't think I need to remind you that you are mine, and mine only." The ghost of Keigo's breath brushed across Ryoma's neck.
"Mada mada dane, Keigo."
Keigo, clad in his dark violet shirt embossed with gold, spun his tennis racket in his hands are he sauntered past the tennis courts. After winning both of his matches in love games, he was satisfied and ready for rest.
"That guy looks sooooo gay." Snickers burst out from beneath a shady tree, where a group of three nasty looking teenage guys lay.
Keigo paused midstep, tilting his head up to look as if he were pondering the statement itself.
"Hmmm, ore-sama does suppose he is rather happy. But ore-sama also supposes that those pleabians over there won't be when ore-sama puts all of their families out of business." A smile graced his lips as he continued walking.
The boys were left speechless, but, being the idiots that they were, decided to continue lying there, waiting for another victim.
After playing single against three other people, Ryoma left the court bored out of his mind. Grabbing a Ponta from the nearest drink machine, he approached his usual napping place, and much to his exasperation, found the three guys.
"Hey guys, another gay brat trying to order us around."
"Mada mada dane." Ryoma tapped his tennis racket against his knee, and while gulping down the rest of his drink, continued walking on the grassy pathway.
"A coward, too. Look at that, he's not even putting up a fight." The older looking one of the gang laughed menacingly. Until three tennis balls were drilled into each of the boy's heads, leaving them clutching their bloody noses.
"Hmmph." Ryoma hesitated from putting his racket back in his bag and tilted down his cap. "Not enough power. 'Shoulda broken their noses. Mada mada dane."
A/N: I hate it when people use derogatory terms...
Ryoma stood in Keigo's room, holding his favorite tennis t-shirt.
"What? Ore-sama will never drink that disgusting purple gunk! It's not even grape, it's a mass of sugar and water and gross chemicals and food coloring and..."
"Keii-go..." Ryoma dragged out each syllable of his name and made a ripping motion with his hands. The shirt began to stretch as he clenched it between his fists, slowly pulling the material in opposite directions.
"Ryoma..." His eyes widened as he saw the shirt that Ryoma was holding. "Ore-sama will never recover from this blow to his dignity..."
As soon as a choking sound became apparent, Ryoma dropped the shirt and approached his boyfriend. Keigo sat on the bed, staring into the empty can.
"I. Will. Kill. You. That was the most digusting thing ore-sama has ever forced down his throat."
And Ryoma stood, clutching his side laughing, as he lifted the camera and looked at the picture he had taken.
….One day later...
"Saa, thanks for the blackmail, Echizen."
"No problem, Fuji-senpai. As long as you put it to good use."
Not an hour later, a picture of Atobe Keigo's dumbfounded face and an empty Ponta can had circulated through the school.
Keigo looked up as the door to his room opened, his boyfriend entering through the door. He patted the space on the bed next to him, indicating for Ryoma to come sleep.
There was one similarity between them, one that would never change.
"Love you, Ryoma."
"Mada mada dane."
He never noticed Ryoma's next whisper of words as he turned to get more comfortable.
I love you too, Keigo.
So, how was it? Please read and review... I haven't figured out a good writing style for this story yet, and Keigo and Ryoma are both OOC... sorry for butchering their personalities! I also apologize for how rushed and choppy it seems... But thanks for giving it a try and I hope you enjoyed it!