[fic] Reunion
Title: Reunion
Words: ~1,300
Prompt: Through Fire & Flames, 7_days
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji, implied, slightly, maybe.
Rating: PG
Notes: I swear, it's kind of tangentially related to the prompt. A little bit.
Tezuka woke up to a blinding ray of sunlight under a bright red comforter that he had never seen before, freezing cold where the comforter didn't cover his skin even though he knew that it was the middle of summer. He rolled over to face away from the sun, rubbed his eyes groggily, and froze when he heard the gentle tapping sound right behind him. The tapping continued and he rolled onto his other side to see Fuji, who wore an amused smile and a light blue dress shirt that clashed badly with the red sheets and the still blinding light. He tapped a rolled up manila envelope against the bedside table, but stopped when he saw Tezuka looking at him.
"Fuji?" He asked, blinking at the sunlight that shone right in his eyes.
"Broken right arm, two broken ribs, sprained left shoulder, sprained ankle, and a very large bruise on your back." Fuji listed calmly, then added as an afterthought, "Not even from tennis."
"What are you doing here?" Tezuka moved an arm to push himself upright and realized that Fuji was right-it was broken and set inside a large and clumsy cast.
"Don't worry, it's just your right arm," Fuji told him. "You'll still play fine."
"How did you get in?"
"I told your housekeeper that you would be expecting me." Fuji's voice was amused. "She let me in easily enough."
"Glasses," Tezuka ordered, not so much taking everything in a stride as much as simply not processing anything that was happening.
Fuji handed them to him. "You're welcome, Tezuka."
Tezuka nodded his thanks but didn't put the glasses on. He was still seeing spots and figured that glasses wouldn't help him see past them. "I haven't seen you in years."
"I've seen you, though," Fuji said dryly. "Your face has been pasted on every billboard in the area at least once."
"Public relations... they hired someone," Tezuka said by way of explanation though he didn't know why he had to explain.
Fuji shrugged. "We figured as much."
"Who?" Tezuka's eyes finally adjusted to the light. He put the glasses on.
"The team."
"Team?"
Fuji winced. "She said you were pretty drugged. I guess it wasn't an understatement."
"Drugs."
"Pain medicine." Fuji leaned forward and tapped Tezuka's arm. "Remember?"
"Actually, no." Tezuka turned back onto his back. "How did-"
"You ran into a moving car."
Tezuka turned his head over to stare at Fuji.
"It was about to run into a woman and you pushed her out of the way," Fuji explained.
"Oh."
"You don't remember."
"Vaguely."
"It's probably just as well." Fuji sat on the bed with a sigh. "I don't even know if you've changed, I've seen you so much."
"You..." Tezuka's eyes traced the curve of Fuji's neck and the way his smile was just a bit strained, then made their way to his hair which was a shade darker than Tezuka remembered but still cut in the same style. "You haven't changed at all."
Fuji's eyes widened briefly in surprise. "Really."
"Yes."
Fuji bit his lip. "Then you must not remember me very well," he said calmly.
Tezuka shook his head. "If I had to decide who would be most likely to break into my house and be there the first time I woke up disoriented in years, I would have chosen you."
"I didn't break in," Fuji reminded him.
"Nonetheless."
Fuji chuckled. "How flattering."
Tezuka smiled and they lapsed into the comfortable silence that they had always surrounded themselves with, years before. Tezuka leaned back into his pillow to watch Fuji, still comfortably nestled in drowsiness and his warm cocoon of blankets.
Fuji had put his arms behind himself and was leaning on them, head thrown back and eyes closed. He breathed deeply and steadily, basking in the sun that had blinded Tezuka moments before.
The housekeeper broke the relaxed silence, bustling in with a tray of food. "Oh? He's up?"
Fuji straightened himself up and smiled at her. "Yes."
"About time, too." She handed the food to Fuji briskly. "Make sure he eat some of that. You know where the pain medicine is?"
"Yes."
Tezuka thought that Fuji's smile was very disarming, and apparently the housekeeper thought likewise.
"Ah, well, that's good." She looked at him. "H-how long did you say you needed him for, again?"
"Not very long," Fuji promised. "Just some catching up."
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, completely thrown off kilter. "He just shouldn't be... shouldn't be..."
"Pushing himself too hard, I know." Fuji must have turned his smile up a notch, because the housekeeper looked like she was about to faint.
"I-oh, it's good that you know."
"I've had injuries before too," Fuji said. "Granted, nothing as severe as this, but it should apply all the more so, right, Takamura-san?"
"Ah, yes." She nodded and headed unsteadily towards the door. "If you need anything, I'll be right outside."
Fuji's smile waned when she left and Tezuka wondered if Fuji had always known how to use that smile as a weapon. "That was impressive," he murmured.
Fuji leaned back and closed his eyes again. "My ex taught me that."
"Your ex?"
"Well, I learned because of him anyways."
"Ah." Tezuka didn't press for more, though he would have liked to.
Fuji opened his eyes and looked at him. "You're curious," he accused.
"It's not my business."
"You're right," Fuji said softly. Still, he continued, "Atobe and I broke up a few months ago anyways."
"Atobe."
"Mm." Fuji's eyes closed.
The bright squares of sunlight on the floor grew smaller as the sun rose and the warmth of the blankets grew uncomfortable. Tezuka shifted a little and Fuji stood up. "You're not allowed to get up, I think," Fuji informed him.
"It'll be fine," Tezuka promised.
"Your housekeeper will kill me," Fuji disagreed. "What did you need?"
"Never mind."
Fuji shook his head.
"You're not just here to visit," Tezuka said, partly to change the topic but mostly because he knew it was true.
"No." Fuji smiled wryly. "I'm in the news industry now, did you know?"
"It doesn't suite you," Tezuka commented.
"Why not?"
"It's too... concrete." Tezuka shrugged. "It just doesn't seem like something you would do." Because there were no boundaries for him to push. Because he was limited by what others could do and find. Because the potential for greatness couldn't be greater than the imagination.
"I like it," Fuji said.
Tezuka didn't respond to that.
"Anyways, I just thought you should see this." Fuji picked a packet off of Tezuka's bedside table. "Here."
"Thank you." Tezuka looked at it, puzzled. The manila envelope was thin and difficult to open with just one hand.
"Just... a heads up." Fuji looked away. "I'm sorry, I tried to keep them from publishing it but it should be the cover story in a week or so."
The envelope opened and Tezuka pulled out the sheet inside. It was a plain, white sheet of paper with a large picture of Tezuka to the right and bold, black letters on top. Two Time Wimbledon Winner, Tezuka Kunimitsu, Gay? Tezuka looked back up at Fuji, who shrugged.
"I thought you would want to know what was coming."
"Why would you-"
"We're friends," Fuji said simply. "Or we were, at least, right Tezuka?"
Tezuka looked away. "Thank you."
"It was nothing." Fuji flopped down to lay right across Tezuka's legs. "Sorry."
"Hmm?"
"Nothing." Fuji smiled wryly. "Can't change it now, anyways."
Tezuka nodded and skimmed through the article. It was almost impressive, how much time and effort must have gone into it. They had managed to find every one of his ex-boyfriends and talk to all of them. Tezuka doubted even he could find them all again. It was also slightly disturbing how much they knew of his life.
"I suppose I should tell my parents, then."
"Probably." Fuji got up reluctantly. "I'll get going, then."
"You don't have to leave."
"I have a meeting, actually." Fuji smiled. "I'll see you around, Tezuka."
"Mm. You too."
Fuji laughed. "I might hold you to that."
Tezuka doubted that he would, but maybe he could find Fuji, then.
Words: ~1,300
Prompt: Through Fire & Flames, 7_days
Pairing: Tezuka/Fuji, implied, slightly, maybe.
Rating: PG
Notes: I swear, it's kind of tangentially related to the prompt. A little bit.
Tezuka woke up to a blinding ray of sunlight under a bright red comforter that he had never seen before, freezing cold where the comforter didn't cover his skin even though he knew that it was the middle of summer. He rolled over to face away from the sun, rubbed his eyes groggily, and froze when he heard the gentle tapping sound right behind him. The tapping continued and he rolled onto his other side to see Fuji, who wore an amused smile and a light blue dress shirt that clashed badly with the red sheets and the still blinding light. He tapped a rolled up manila envelope against the bedside table, but stopped when he saw Tezuka looking at him.
"Fuji?" He asked, blinking at the sunlight that shone right in his eyes.
"Broken right arm, two broken ribs, sprained left shoulder, sprained ankle, and a very large bruise on your back." Fuji listed calmly, then added as an afterthought, "Not even from tennis."
"What are you doing here?" Tezuka moved an arm to push himself upright and realized that Fuji was right-it was broken and set inside a large and clumsy cast.
"Don't worry, it's just your right arm," Fuji told him. "You'll still play fine."
"How did you get in?"
"I told your housekeeper that you would be expecting me." Fuji's voice was amused. "She let me in easily enough."
"Glasses," Tezuka ordered, not so much taking everything in a stride as much as simply not processing anything that was happening.
Fuji handed them to him. "You're welcome, Tezuka."
Tezuka nodded his thanks but didn't put the glasses on. He was still seeing spots and figured that glasses wouldn't help him see past them. "I haven't seen you in years."
"I've seen you, though," Fuji said dryly. "Your face has been pasted on every billboard in the area at least once."
"Public relations... they hired someone," Tezuka said by way of explanation though he didn't know why he had to explain.
Fuji shrugged. "We figured as much."
"Who?" Tezuka's eyes finally adjusted to the light. He put the glasses on.
"The team."
"Team?"
Fuji winced. "She said you were pretty drugged. I guess it wasn't an understatement."
"Drugs."
"Pain medicine." Fuji leaned forward and tapped Tezuka's arm. "Remember?"
"Actually, no." Tezuka turned back onto his back. "How did-"
"You ran into a moving car."
Tezuka turned his head over to stare at Fuji.
"It was about to run into a woman and you pushed her out of the way," Fuji explained.
"Oh."
"You don't remember."
"Vaguely."
"It's probably just as well." Fuji sat on the bed with a sigh. "I don't even know if you've changed, I've seen you so much."
"You..." Tezuka's eyes traced the curve of Fuji's neck and the way his smile was just a bit strained, then made their way to his hair which was a shade darker than Tezuka remembered but still cut in the same style. "You haven't changed at all."
Fuji's eyes widened briefly in surprise. "Really."
"Yes."
Fuji bit his lip. "Then you must not remember me very well," he said calmly.
Tezuka shook his head. "If I had to decide who would be most likely to break into my house and be there the first time I woke up disoriented in years, I would have chosen you."
"I didn't break in," Fuji reminded him.
"Nonetheless."
Fuji chuckled. "How flattering."
Tezuka smiled and they lapsed into the comfortable silence that they had always surrounded themselves with, years before. Tezuka leaned back into his pillow to watch Fuji, still comfortably nestled in drowsiness and his warm cocoon of blankets.
Fuji had put his arms behind himself and was leaning on them, head thrown back and eyes closed. He breathed deeply and steadily, basking in the sun that had blinded Tezuka moments before.
The housekeeper broke the relaxed silence, bustling in with a tray of food. "Oh? He's up?"
Fuji straightened himself up and smiled at her. "Yes."
"About time, too." She handed the food to Fuji briskly. "Make sure he eat some of that. You know where the pain medicine is?"
"Yes."
Tezuka thought that Fuji's smile was very disarming, and apparently the housekeeper thought likewise.
"Ah, well, that's good." She looked at him. "H-how long did you say you needed him for, again?"
"Not very long," Fuji promised. "Just some catching up."
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, completely thrown off kilter. "He just shouldn't be... shouldn't be..."
"Pushing himself too hard, I know." Fuji must have turned his smile up a notch, because the housekeeper looked like she was about to faint.
"I-oh, it's good that you know."
"I've had injuries before too," Fuji said. "Granted, nothing as severe as this, but it should apply all the more so, right, Takamura-san?"
"Ah, yes." She nodded and headed unsteadily towards the door. "If you need anything, I'll be right outside."
Fuji's smile waned when she left and Tezuka wondered if Fuji had always known how to use that smile as a weapon. "That was impressive," he murmured.
Fuji leaned back and closed his eyes again. "My ex taught me that."
"Your ex?"
"Well, I learned because of him anyways."
"Ah." Tezuka didn't press for more, though he would have liked to.
Fuji opened his eyes and looked at him. "You're curious," he accused.
"It's not my business."
"You're right," Fuji said softly. Still, he continued, "Atobe and I broke up a few months ago anyways."
"Atobe."
"Mm." Fuji's eyes closed.
The bright squares of sunlight on the floor grew smaller as the sun rose and the warmth of the blankets grew uncomfortable. Tezuka shifted a little and Fuji stood up. "You're not allowed to get up, I think," Fuji informed him.
"It'll be fine," Tezuka promised.
"Your housekeeper will kill me," Fuji disagreed. "What did you need?"
"Never mind."
Fuji shook his head.
"You're not just here to visit," Tezuka said, partly to change the topic but mostly because he knew it was true.
"No." Fuji smiled wryly. "I'm in the news industry now, did you know?"
"It doesn't suite you," Tezuka commented.
"Why not?"
"It's too... concrete." Tezuka shrugged. "It just doesn't seem like something you would do." Because there were no boundaries for him to push. Because he was limited by what others could do and find. Because the potential for greatness couldn't be greater than the imagination.
"I like it," Fuji said.
Tezuka didn't respond to that.
"Anyways, I just thought you should see this." Fuji picked a packet off of Tezuka's bedside table. "Here."
"Thank you." Tezuka looked at it, puzzled. The manila envelope was thin and difficult to open with just one hand.
"Just... a heads up." Fuji looked away. "I'm sorry, I tried to keep them from publishing it but it should be the cover story in a week or so."
The envelope opened and Tezuka pulled out the sheet inside. It was a plain, white sheet of paper with a large picture of Tezuka to the right and bold, black letters on top. Two Time Wimbledon Winner, Tezuka Kunimitsu, Gay? Tezuka looked back up at Fuji, who shrugged.
"I thought you would want to know what was coming."
"Why would you-"
"We're friends," Fuji said simply. "Or we were, at least, right Tezuka?"
Tezuka looked away. "Thank you."
"It was nothing." Fuji flopped down to lay right across Tezuka's legs. "Sorry."
"Hmm?"
"Nothing." Fuji smiled wryly. "Can't change it now, anyways."
Tezuka nodded and skimmed through the article. It was almost impressive, how much time and effort must have gone into it. They had managed to find every one of his ex-boyfriends and talk to all of them. Tezuka doubted even he could find them all again. It was also slightly disturbing how much they knew of his life.
"I suppose I should tell my parents, then."
"Probably." Fuji got up reluctantly. "I'll get going, then."
"You don't have to leave."
"I have a meeting, actually." Fuji smiled. "I'll see you around, Tezuka."
"Mm. You too."
Fuji laughed. "I might hold you to that."
Tezuka doubted that he would, but maybe he could find Fuji, then.