tofsla_fic: (Default)
homsan toft ([personal profile] tofsla_fic) wrote2014-02-21 11:11 am

Adjust (Kite/Rin)

Prince of Tennis, Kite/Rin, G
650 words



Rin swears, pushing his hair back from his face again; it's like a compulsive gesture, and it never seems to help any more than the previous attempt did. Kite can feel himself beginning to get annoyed by proxy and possibly because stupidity is contagious.

"What?" Rin snaps. He's staring at Kite. This, Kite is certain, is not the right way around.

He just frowns, presuming Rin will get the point.

"Oh, give it a fucking break," Rin says, and chucks his racket down, throwing himself after it to lie full-out on the court. "Too hot. No energy for this shit. What?"

It has been a long day, and probably the hottest of the year so far, so humid the tourists must be dropping dead on the beaches.

"Are you telling me you're annoyed by a little heat, Hirakoba-kun?"

"Yup."

"Would you like me to give your position to--"

"--someone else. Yeah, good luck finding anyone better. I can play another set against you now, heat and all. Wanna try me?"

"I thought you had no energy for 'this shit.'"

"Meant you." Rin opens an eye, peers up at him, shielding his face with a hand. "Tennis is fine."

Kite smiles.

Rin grins back up at him, sweaty and tired but irrepressible.

"We'll see about that," Kite says. "Get up."

By the gates, Kai groans. "Hey, you guys, we're done. You can keep your pissing match going for as long as you like, okay?"

Kite ignores him. Rin just waves to Kai and the others, pulls himself up to sitting and then practically bounces upright, raising an eyebrow at Kite, well?

"Ready when you are," Kite says. "And get a hairband, you idiot. That's not going to work."

Rin stops tugging his hands through his hair, faintly guilty.

"There's one in my bag somewhere."

"And you didn't use it because...?" Kite rolls his eyes and crosses the court, roots through Rin's bag until he finds the offending article, pink and sparkly and probably property of Rin's sister. Although one never can tell. "Never mind. I'll put it on you by force if I need to."

And Rin laughs. "Oh, sure, that's a threat."

Kai is gone, and the rest have trailed off after him. They're alone. Kite smiles slowly, challenging, and watches something of an expectant expression flicker across Rin's face.

"Yes," he says, "I rather think it is."

Another laugh, but a brief one. "Do your worst."

When his hand drags across the back of Rin's neck, catching stray strands of hair, Rin leans into it -- and the way Rin reacts to fingers on his scalp is approaching obscene. Who is meant to be winding who up here?

"I should do something terrible," Kite murmurs into Rin's ear, "and make you keep it like that for the rest of the day."

"And I should kick you in the balls," Rin mutters back. He doesn't stop shifting under Kite's hands, though, fidgeting around in a way which suggests a deliberate attempt to make this take longer than necessary.

Kite finally ties Rin's hair up loosely, letting it sit in a bunch high on his head, and steps away, extremely glad that they are alone. Rin checks with his hands, twitches at a few stray strands like the vain bastard he is, and crouches to grab his racket.

"Let's go," he says, and grins. "Maybe I'll kick your ass this time."

"Maybe you will," Kite says dryly.

He doesn't, of course. But unlike a few of the more sycophantic club members, it's not for want of trying, which is... sort of pleasant.

He's still adjusting to the idea that only certain kinds of win actually mean anything. He's not even sure if he really believes it, or if he ever will, or if this is just a doomed experiment.

How on earth did this happen in the first place?

But, watching Rin slouched on the court again, one hand tugging idly at his makeshift ponytail, it's maybe not all that surprising that he'd at least give the idea some thought.

Some people have a strange effect on the world around them, apparently.

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