And here it is. This is really FujiRyo, but it's nothing more than musing.

I think it sounds a little weird, but still. *swims in FujiRyo love* I need to get it out of my system before I start writing smut for them or something. x_x Which is all Fuji-muse has been pressuring me to write lately.

Now I shall flounce off to nurse my cheek and maybe do some studying. Heh.

It was strange, but he actually liked looking at Fuji's sleeping profile.

Three years after they started dating, filled with misunderstandings, minor break-ups and temperamental fits between two growing teenagers... it was almost impossible to believe that the both of them had travelled such a long way. And of course, Ryoma would rather die than admit that most of the misunderstandings, break-ups and temperamental fits were initiated by him.

It was his last year in senior high and he was actually looking forward to moving out of his home.

What he wasn't looking forward to was moving away from Japan. His father had plans-- lots of them, in fact, for him to return to America and start playing in the circuits. Well, just because his father had plans, it didn't mean he had to follow them. And it certainly didn't mean he had to appease the dirty old man either.

Currently, he was seeking a brief respite from the old man; tomorrow was Sunday, which meant no school, no tennis practice and definitely no homework. He was staying over at Fuji's apartment, something his parents knew about but declined to comment on. Nanjirou was constantly trying to practice selective amnesia when it came to Ryoma and Fuji's relationship. His mother was kinder about it, but that didn't mean she approved, either.

"Mreow~"

Cuddled up between Fuji and himself was Karupin, looking snug and warm right where it was. Karupin would follow Ryoma to Fuji's apartment during his visits, and Ryoma often swore that his cat was fonder of Fuji. The older boy would smile, then laugh in that incredibly soft voice of his before reaching down to cuddle Karupin.

Ryoma smiled, reaching over to stroke his cat almost idly. He turned his gaze back to Fuji's face, staring at the other's features intently.

To boy wonder, Fuji was an incredibly amazing person. Ohh he was annoying alright... but there was something incredibly amazing and special about him... something so different and beautiful...

Fuji was beautiful. That, he had to admit. And the reason for that beauty... it was difficult to explain. The prodigy was an extremely difficult person, to say the truth. He wasn't only stubborn; he was possessive, had a nasty sense of humour, and probably nursed an impressive competitive streak too. Such instances of Fuji's personality were often reflected on his face, but it would take someone who knew him well to read his expressions correctly.

Many years back, when he was still a young boy trying to define his dreams in tennis and in life, he chose to avoid relationships like the plague. It wasn't because he hated them, or was unfamiliar with what a relationship entail. He knew what relationships would want from him, and he was unwilling to give. He wanted to keep life simple. Let there be tennis and his cat. And TV console games, sometimes.

Everything else could wither away at somewhere else and he honestly couldn't be bothered. Girls were difficult to understand, but he soon realised that Fuji was even more so. It was strange how one person could perplex and intrigue him so intensely at the same time, but Ryoma could guess the reason why.

Fuji was the one who asked him out first. He was also the one who initiated their relationship. At times, Ryoma felt guilty about letting Fuji be the only one asking for more in the relationship; was he too quiet and did he lack the proper displays of affection? He liked Fuji too, but he couldn't explain his feelings and he certainly couldn't do anything, except to show Fuji what he wanted him to understand.

The older boy understood. Always. And that made him even more beautiful than before.

When Fuji wasn't passionate and vengeful, when he wasn't competitive and fiercely possessive, he was calm and peaceful, serene and quiet. He was like a lake; once he was disturbed or infuriated, the ripples of destruction would spread out unforgivingly, until his anger had ran out and everything was smoothed over again, returning things to their normal course.

Ryoma wanted to love this person.

This strong and beautiful person, who sought to always protect all that was precious to him. Who fought for what he believed was right and never backed down. Who loved him, and surely deserved his love in return.

Now, watching his sleeping profile, noting the way how he looked almost delicate and vulnerable in his sleep and knowing that he was anything but... Ryoma gave a small smile to himself. He continued watching his boyfriend until sunlight started streaming into the room, and the older boy's features were lit up with soft shades of pink and orange, making him glow in the morning light.

Ryoma reached over and very gently, very lightly brushed his fingertips over Fuji's left eyelid and cheek. When eyelashes started to flutter, he withdrew his hand in a hurry and closed his eyes in an attempt to pretend sleep. There was a soft yawn from Fuji and an even softer exhale against his face. Soft, dry lips brushed lightly over his brow, and one familiar arm reached over to curl around him warmly, secure in its gentle pressure.

There was a soft cough, and Fuji cleared his throat before leaning close to murmur in a slightly husky tone. Ryoma could almost hear the smile in his voice, soft and soothing despite its scratchiness.

"Good morning, Ryoma-san."