Prince of Tennis, Tenisu no Boifrendo

Title: Tenisu no Boifrendo [OT5]
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating/Warnings: Did I write a G OT5? I should just kill myself.
Summary: Tezuka is sure that his boyfriends are making fun of him, but he can’t exactly put his finger on how.
AN: Mousapelli’s Birthday Theme 8: Lavender

Tenisu no Boifrendo

“What are you two up to?” Tezuka asked, crossing his arms.

“Up to?” Fuji asked, smiling widely, just a glimmer of blue evident under his eyelids.

“Kunimitsu, you wound Ore-sama,” Atobe added, straightening his tie in the hallway mirror. His lavender tie. Which matched his very lavender suit. Which matched Fuji’s very lavender silk shirt and trousers.

“Are you making fun of me?” Tezuka narrowed his eyes.

“We’re just going to work,” Sanada said from behind him, and Tezuka almost relaxed in the presence of the only other mostly sane person in the house, until he turned around and saw that Sanada also was wearing an entirely lavender suit.

The final straw was when Ryoma grumbled a “You’re in the way, Sanada-senpai,” and squeezed past him to reveal his lavender tennis warm-up suit.

“Morning, buchou,” he said casually, tapping his purple-grip-taped racket against his shoulder as Tezuka stared down at him.

“Nobody,” Tezuka said through gritted teeth, “is going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on here.”

” ‘Mitsuko,” Fuji purred, making Tezuka twitch, “is something wrong? I thought you said you liked me in this shirt.”

“I did,” Tezuka said, “but…”

“And you know these are the only pants I own that match it.”

“It’s spring festival today,” Sanada reported when Tezuka turned his way, “and they told me I wasn’t allowed to wear black.”

“What’s your excuse?” Tezuka asked Ryoma, looming over him.

“Che, I didn’t know I needed your permission to wear clothes,” Ryoma rolled his eyes, “but I’m playing in a charity tournament this afternoon, and this is their uniform.” Ryoma twisted so Tezuka could see the gold logo on the back, which read “SUPER LUCKY LAVENDER CLASSIC 2006” and sparkled just a little.

“I see,” Tezuka sighed, then turned to Atobe.

“Ore-sama wears this every day.” Atobe was still focused on his reflection, and Tezuka sighed in defeat as the others all nodded. Sanada patted his shoulder soothingly, and Fuji leaned up to kiss his cheek. Ryoma jabbed him in the rear with the handle of his racket.

“Carry on then,” Tezuka sighed, picking his briefcase up off the floor and heading out the door with a final, suspicious look over his shoulder. Three of his boyfriends smiled at him winningly.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Sanada and Ryoma started stripping off their jackets with expressions of utter disgust, Ryoma peeling the decal Fuji had printed for him off the back of the jacket and slapping it against the hallway wall.

“He’s going to kill you when he sees his car, you know,” Sanada remarked.

“Wait until he opens his briefcase.” Fuji smiled, unbuttoning the lavender shirt to reveal a much more flattering white one underneath.

“Ahn?” Atobe finally looked up from the hallway mirror. “Are you three playing some kind of joke on Tezuka?”

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