893// Liquid Light
Title: Liquid Light
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Saeki, Fuji
Rating: PG
Notes: It's Saekiiiiiiiiiii. 8DDD
Saeki tore through the streets whooping like a madman, red jacket blazing out behind him as he wove between cars. This was how one rode a motorcycle, not like the way Ryou went, silent and unobtrusive but rather loud. The point was to bait the officers, get the adrenaline rushing, and then use well-developed knowledge of the territory to outrun them all.
He heard rather than saw the other bike coming. Like the cry of a swallow, and he risked a quick glance back to see blue-tipped "wings" that were in truth just Fuji's blazer streamed back in the wind. Only Fuji would ride like that, crazier than he, narrowly avoiding incoming traffic until they were now side by side. Only Fuji, because that man was the one who could read the wind, the genius in Seishun blue.
They finally pulled off at from the highways to ride parallel the coastlines of Chiba, before stopping at a stretch of sand that could barely be called a beach. Saeki flopped onto the ground anyway, panting, ignoring the way the grains dug into his skin, and soon after Fuji settled beside him. They grinned at each other in the twilight, feral looks, and then Fuji was handcuffing them together (but tossing him the key). "You should know better than to race me."
Saeki rolled his eyes to the darkness, tugging at the iron chain. "Yeah, sure, you go believe that. I kept up with you fair and square." And it took all of his tricks to do it, but he wasn't going to admit to that. "So how's Yuuta? I hear he didn't bother following his good brother into Seishun and went into... 'journalism', wasn't it?"
"The manager of their team is an incompetent fool." The words were spat out with a measure of bitterness. Saeki never had gotten used to how much Fuji's mask shifted when it came to his younger brother. "Teaching those techniques, sending them out to watch other groups just to gain and sell information," and suddenly, Fuji's tone changed to sugary sweetness. "Well, I'm sure he'll learn the error of his ways, don't you think?"
Saeki found himself hard-pressed to disagree. He didn't like Mizuki himself, but the man's services were useful, especially for teams like his that weren't so fortunate as to have data specialists. Nonetheless, common sense told him it was better to keep his mouth shut. He released the handcuffs on his end (just in case), and tossed them over to Fuji's side. "So you think a guy like me could get his hands on your sister's amazing pie?"
There was a brief silence as Fuji considered, though most of it was spent muffling his laughter. "I think if you're not planning on propositioning her, I could provide you with some."
"Maybe you should offer some pie to that captain of yours," though Saeki found his curiosity piqued when Fuji lifted a finger to his lips in the universal gesture of secrecy. "Did you?"
"Who knows?" and though Fuji's expression screamed that he had, Saeki knew better than to trust that. "Shall we get going then? Try to keep up, hm?"
"Try? I will."
The streetlights blurred to white rivers as they sped down the road.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Saeki, Fuji
Rating: PG
Notes: It's Saekiiiiiiiiiii. 8DDD
Saeki tore through the streets whooping like a madman, red jacket blazing out behind him as he wove between cars. This was how one rode a motorcycle, not like the way Ryou went, silent and unobtrusive but rather loud. The point was to bait the officers, get the adrenaline rushing, and then use well-developed knowledge of the territory to outrun them all.
He heard rather than saw the other bike coming. Like the cry of a swallow, and he risked a quick glance back to see blue-tipped "wings" that were in truth just Fuji's blazer streamed back in the wind. Only Fuji would ride like that, crazier than he, narrowly avoiding incoming traffic until they were now side by side. Only Fuji, because that man was the one who could read the wind, the genius in Seishun blue.
They finally pulled off at from the highways to ride parallel the coastlines of Chiba, before stopping at a stretch of sand that could barely be called a beach. Saeki flopped onto the ground anyway, panting, ignoring the way the grains dug into his skin, and soon after Fuji settled beside him. They grinned at each other in the twilight, feral looks, and then Fuji was handcuffing them together (but tossing him the key). "You should know better than to race me."
Saeki rolled his eyes to the darkness, tugging at the iron chain. "Yeah, sure, you go believe that. I kept up with you fair and square." And it took all of his tricks to do it, but he wasn't going to admit to that. "So how's Yuuta? I hear he didn't bother following his good brother into Seishun and went into... 'journalism', wasn't it?"
"The manager of their team is an incompetent fool." The words were spat out with a measure of bitterness. Saeki never had gotten used to how much Fuji's mask shifted when it came to his younger brother. "Teaching those techniques, sending them out to watch other groups just to gain and sell information," and suddenly, Fuji's tone changed to sugary sweetness. "Well, I'm sure he'll learn the error of his ways, don't you think?"
Saeki found himself hard-pressed to disagree. He didn't like Mizuki himself, but the man's services were useful, especially for teams like his that weren't so fortunate as to have data specialists. Nonetheless, common sense told him it was better to keep his mouth shut. He released the handcuffs on his end (just in case), and tossed them over to Fuji's side. "So you think a guy like me could get his hands on your sister's amazing pie?"
There was a brief silence as Fuji considered, though most of it was spent muffling his laughter. "I think if you're not planning on propositioning her, I could provide you with some."
"Maybe you should offer some pie to that captain of yours," though Saeki found his curiosity piqued when Fuji lifted a finger to his lips in the universal gesture of secrecy. "Did you?"
"Who knows?" and though Fuji's expression screamed that he had, Saeki knew better than to trust that. "Shall we get going then? Try to keep up, hm?"
"Try? I will."
The streetlights blurred to white rivers as they sped down the road.