RP Log: Tezuka and Fuji
When: The night of January 27, after Tezuka and Fuji talk on the roof of a random building in Tokyo.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Finally, Tezuka and Fuji get to really know each other in the biblical sense. This encounter was only ... what, 10 years in the making? Pshaw. (^_^;;; Longest foreplay ever. 10 years. *headdesks*)
The spy hadn't been there in forever, and he walked in slowly to take in the apartment once more. The space still looked pretty much the same except for minor changes. "I see you've unpacked."
"Mostly," Tezuka said, making sure the door was bolted. He watched Fuji look around the apartment. "Nothing's changed." Perhaps it was marginally cleaner. That was about the only change one might notice.
Nodding Fuji was about to drape his jacket over the hanger when he noticed it. "Nothing?" The spy smiled as he walked over to the photo frame that was no longer where it was before the glassed man moved.
One didn't actually mark the locations of all these things when one moved. And if Tezuka had placed Fuji's picture a little more prominently, who would have noticed? Except Fuji, he supposed. He merely looked at Fuji holding the frame, and gave the lightest of shrugs.
You actually cared. "You know, I would have helped you move in if needed." Fuji put the picture back, tested with his fingers to find no dust on the frame, and smiled lightly to himself.
"It wasn't necessary," Tezuka said, shaking his head. He watched Fuji finger the frame, and wondered what Fuji was thinking. He'd never really voiced questions of that sort after Fuji had answered him honestly the first time he'd done so in Harvard.
And Fuji was glad Tezuka learned the lesson. Some people took a few more lessons. Walking back beside Tezuka, Fuji took the dirty jacket from the man's arms. "I'll get this washed." He smiled. "I owe you one."
"You don't have to," Tezuka said, but he let go of it gratefully. He didn't like going to the dry cleaner's, and he hadn't needed to since becoming director. Hoshina had been efficient and motherly.
Though now that he wasn't the director, he didn't have anyone else to do the job. He nodded his thanks to Fuji.
Fuji was more than used to playing the 'nagging caretaker' role. Someone had to make sure Tezuka was actually eating when final exams time rolled around. Folding the jacket, he placed it by the door to make sure he'd remember when he leave. "Come on, let's get you warmed up." The spy turned to head into the kitchen, hoping there were still enough tea bags left over.
Privately, it amused Tezuka that Fuji was mothering him. "Yes, sir," he said, taking Fuji's jacket and putting it in the closet. When they opened it for Fuji's jacket, they would hopefully remember it.
If not, Tezuka would just have to go to the dry cleaner's himself sooner or later.
There were indeed tea bags, and some fresh food, too. Tezuka wondered if he should make some dinner, and attempt something that wouldn't make Fuji sick. "Would you like dinner?" he asked.
"Do you actually remember how to cook?" Tezuka had been so busy with his director work that Fuji wasn't sure the former director knew anything else. "... Or how to cook to begin with."
Stiffly, Tezuka gave Fuji a glare. "I can cook." He pulled down a pot, and filled it with water, setting it on the stove and turning on the fire before turning to Fuji. "It's limited, but I promise not to poison you."
"You wouldn't be the first one." The brunet chuckled as his leaned his forehead against the other man's back. "You smell nice."
"Thank you," Tezuka said, and he slipped his arms around Fuji, then kissed Fuji's forehead. You do too.
"Make yourself at home," Tezuka said, turning back to the stove. "It shouldn't take long."
Fuji nodded and returned to the living room obediently, sitting in his usual seat which was also his usual 'bed'. The furniture still felt the same. “Glad to see you again,” the spy whispered to the furniture as he gently caressed the surface.
It indeed didn't take long. Tezuka was soon out of the kitchen, gingerly carrying a large tray on which two steaming bowls sat. He set them on the coffee table before Fuji.
"Homey." The brunet remarked as he regarded the food with an amused look.
"Edible," Tezuka retorted, flushing. His cooking skills paled beside those of others, but he was at least able to make it edible. It rankled, not being able to do it well.
"Sit." The spy reached out and latched onto the other man's sleeve, but only tentatively. He still wasn't too sure about where they stood or even if they were even standing. So many things were unsure right now, all he could do was to take one step at a time.
Tezuka obeyed the request, sitting down next to Fuji, looking somewhat embarrassed. Fuji earned a better salary, took better pictures, cooked better food. What the other saw in Tezuka, Tezuka honestly didn't know. But he slipped an arm around Fuji anyway, and squeezed the other's waist.
Better salary only when combined. He'd better, considering what his cover was, and well... a few former hospital patients might disagree with the cooking. Edging towards Tezuka, the spy leaned against the taller man's shoulder, blowing a few strands out of his eyes.
Lifting a finger, Tezuka hesitated a moment, and then tucked Fuji's hair behind his ears for the first time.
"Eat before the soup gets cold," he said, quietly.
Playfully looking up at the other man, Fuji winked. "What's my reward?"
"A full stomach," Tezuka said, raising an eyebrow.
"That's it?" Fuji wrinkled his nose lightly.
"If I rewarded you for eating dinner, Fuji," Tezuka explained, gently kissing the tip of Fuji's nose, "you'd soon ask me to reward you for other things."
Tezuka's fingers stroked the small of Fuji's back lightly. "For coming back with me." His fingers smoothed light brown strands, gently stroking. "For staying."
Then Tezuka gently cupped Fuji's face, and turned it to him with a gentle look. "For being." He gave the other a light kiss.
Their fourth kiss. "I fail to see the downside, Tezuka."
"It wouldn't do to spoil you," Tezuka said, and he kissed Fuji again for the fifth time.
"Why not?" Fuji chuckled into their sixth. "Sa..." The spy quickly stopped himself. So what if Saeki spoiled him rotten? Saeki and Tezuka weren't the same person. Not to mention saying the other’s name while in the agent’s company was just bad taste. Still… Fuji wondered what the analyst was doing at the moment. "Same thing, I fail to see the downside."
So Saeki spoiled Fuji.
Tezuka's chest ached a little, and his breath caught in his throat. He gently broke the kiss, and nudged Fuji. "Someone has to be firm with you. Now eat."
"It doesn't have to be you?" The spy murmured, still lying against the other man. He behaved well enough when things became serious.
"Eat," Tezuka repeated, and he gently rubbed Fuji's back. "The soup will get cold." He let Fuji go, and picked up his chopsticks.
"Ahh." The spy relented... only slightly. Saeki not only spoiled Fuji rotten, he was spoilt so rotten that he might as well be a fossil.
Too much spoiling was bad for one's character, though the temptation to do so was strong. Tezuka sipped the broth, and watched out of the corner of his eye, hoping Fuji would find the taste ... if not to his liking, at least, edible.
Fuji pouted again. "Ahhh..."
With an inner sigh, Tezuka picked up Fuji's spoon, placed some noodles and soup on it, and gently blew on it. He silently fed it to Fuji.
The spy sipped at the soup with a smile. "That's better." Finishing the broth, he licked his lips lightly. "Although still with some room for improvement." And he meant the way of delivery, not the food itself.
Not understanding, Tezuka furrowed his brows. "Not enough salt?"
Fuji chuckled. "You'll know."
Not the salt, then. "Are the mushrooms not fresh?"
"They are, just...." The spy leaned in closer. "Efficiency."
Tezuka blinked, not comprehending.
"The food could be delivered in a more timely manner." The spy explained. "Like..." Their seventh.
Mushroom and chicken and udon and Fuji. Tezuka couldn't help but swallow even as his heart thumped. He pushed gently, breaking the kiss. "Fuji," he said, and then found himself speechless, because even mixed with mushroom and half-chewed noodles and salty chicken essence, Fuji still tasted like Fuji.
Fuji leaned forward to deepen the kiss slightly before pulling away. "Now..." He breathed as he pulled away, yet still close enough that their lips touched as he spoke. "Wasn't that more efficient?"
Damn the udon. Tezuka reached out, kissing Fuji again. The soup was fainter now, salty with a slight hint of mushrooms. Tezuka tightened his arms around Fuji, slowly exploring the other's mouth.
Tezuka tasted... clean, yet intense and rich. The spy sighed into the kiss. The other's arms were strong around him, and they supported him through the sudden weakness the spy felt at the kiss.
Fuji seemed to be leaning on him now, but Tezuka didn't mind. If nothing else, he had always been ready to support Fuji. He did so now, arms wrapping around the other tighter. Deepening the kiss, he tasted more of Fuji now, vaguely spicy, mostly sweet, and something else, something undefineable.
How he had managed to not know this was so close and had always been waiting for him? Tezuka wanted more.
"Tezuka..." Fuji breathed. His heart seemed to be going a hundred miles an hour. So long, he'd waited so long for this, to feel Tezuka's arms around him, the former director’s lips on his own. How he loved the man, even if Tezuka would never know how deep the affection went.
"Fuji," Tezuka breathed, breaking the kiss reluctantly to gently kiss and nibble the other's lips.
He wanted more, but only if Fuji did.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," Tezuka said, though his breath was slightly quicker and heavier than usual. If Fuji wanted him to stop, he wanted to know when he was still able to.
"I want anything you want." The spy answered, his breathing just slightly irregular. "I want... you." I always have, you just never noticed. "Anything I can give you... I would."
"Give me your company tonight," Tezuka said, and gently nibbled again, breath quickening with promise. He didn't dare ask for more. Even if Fuji left him tomorrow ... he would have had tonight. He kissed Fuji again, leaving the noodles as they were on the table.
"As you wish." Fuji breathed, wincing lightly at the bite, yet loving the feel of the other's lips and teeth and everything on him. It was only until later did he realize that those were the words that a certain analyst whispered to him whenever Fuji was behaving spoilt.
Kissing Fuji again, Tezuka took Fuji in his arms, and maneuvered them so that the photographer was now lying beneath him. He straddled Fuji, not letting himself become a weight on the other. His fingers worked at Fuji's shirt buttons, gently undoing them from the top.
Tezuka could feel his heart hammering in his throat, and he closed his eyes to regain his balance before breaking the kiss lightly, moving to gently nibble Fuji's jaw. He pulled back to undo the rest of the buttons, and paused. Fuji was beautiful, pale skin and fragile appearance hiding muscles and inner strength one didn't notice until one looked.
"I never noticed your beauty before," Tezuka said, breath catching in his throat. "How could I have been so blind?" He gently kissed Fuji's exposed skin, worshipping each part.
Fuji's breath hiked as he felt the cool air on his skin, but that only encouraged him to arch into the warmth of the other's lips on his body. "We've... both been blind." He moaned lightly as his hands found their way into the agent's hair, letting his fingers swim among the dark soft strands.
"You said you've always known." Tezuka sighed against pale skin, eyes closing at Fuji's fingers slipping into his hair. Fuji arching against him like this was both new and at the same time familiar. He'd never heard Fuji moan like this before, and he sucked lightly on the pale skin in response, not hard enough to mark skin.
The shirt was unbuttoned now, and Tezuka pushed it aside, letting it slide down to Fuji's sides for now. He kissed and licked the skin it exposed, loving the way Fuji tasted.
“Known and done what?” For a few moments Fuji panicked as his shirt was pushed aside, revealing the dark bite mark on his collarbone that Saeki would renew everytime they laid together. So often that the bruise was nearly permanent, an intense shade of purple against the pale skin.
It hadn't been visible before, and Tezuka hadn't paid attention to Fuji's collarbone, but when Fuji stiffened momentarily, Tezuka looked up to reassure the other.
He noticed the mark. Gently fingering it, Tezuka closed his eyes. "Do you like your men possessive?" he asked quietly.
Fuji contemplated his answer. Yes, he did like it when Saeki was possessive. He even went as far as to invoke the other's wrath so that he might see that jealousy boil. But, this was Tezuka, he would like what Tezuka liked, be what Tezuka wanted him to be. "Up to you."
Tezuka fingered the purple mark, silently, and then dipped his head to lick it, as if he was wiping Saeki's claim away.
The spy only pressed himself tighter against the other's lips. They felt like fire, burning and consuming him. "Tezuka..." The spy moaned the name again, hands tightening in the other's hair, pressing the lips firmer against his skin. The slender body adjusted to fit into every curve of the agent's body, almost as if wanting to melt into the other.
Feeling Fuji's body arch up against him and the other man's fingers tighten in his hair, Tezuka kissed the mark, and then held Fuji down, kissing a trail down to Fuji's pants, where he stroked the area where Fuji's pants met skin.
He hesitated, and then undid them, unzipping, gently kissing further down, pushing the fabric down lightly as he moved.
"Tezuka...!" The other's kisses was intoxicating, and the more the other gave, the more Fuji wanted them. But... "Tezuka... I... I'm not..." Clean, I've been with too many people... would you even accept a body like this?
"Shh," Tezuka said, temporarily abandoning his quest. He moved up, and gently kissed Fuji again, a quietly affectionate kiss that warmed his body. "I don't need to know. You don't need to tell me." I already know about Saeki.
He moved down again, and continued his move downwards, but then he moved to the side, kissing along Fuji's hipbones, then seeming to find a site particularly tasty, lingered. If Saeki was marking Fuji ... Tezuka would too.
Comforted by the kiss, the fingers in the hair turned into gentle caresses, touching Tezuka anywhere he could reach. "Tezuka..." The spy's heart swelled. He had dreamt about this for so long. So many nights since their school years he had wondered how the other man would feel against his own body.
And imagination had nothing on reality.
Nibbling, kissing, sucking on the spot he'd chosen, Tezuka pulled Fuji's pants down, gently working them off. He left his ministrations for a moment, and tugged them off, pushing them aside.
Sengoku had liked it when Tezuka did this, so Tezuka tried it on Fuji. He bent his head, and licked Fuji's cock, from root to tip, slowly; making sure Fuji could feel the pressure.
The spy let out a loud explosion of breath as he felt the other's tongue on him, immediately squirming from the touch. Yet not moving away. He was pretty much fully naked in front of the other man, and yet a part of him was embarrassed as if his mentality had regressed to when the two men had first met, trying to hide himself behind his arms.
Tezuka stroked Fuji's hips lightly, fingering the slight discoloration he'd caused earlier. "You're beautiful," he said, the affection plain in his voice as he watched Fuji squirm. "Please ... don't run from me."
"Tezuka..." Fuji's eyes were half-lidded as he looked back to the man on top of him. "I... won't run." I don't know what made you change your mind, I don't know what you see in me, or maybe that's why you rejected me in the first place. The spy pulled the other close, not wishing to give up possession of Tezuka's lips.
In response, Tezuka tongued Fuji again, and then sucked, gently at first, listening, until Fuji moaned, before slowly upping the pace. He stroked the other's pale skin, feeling the pulses beneath the surface, heard Fuji's breath quicken, knew Fuji's half-lidded eyes were on him.
"Tezuka... Tezuka... Tezuka..." The spy was gasping aloud, wrapping his legs around the agent in encouragement. "What do you want?"
"You," Tezuka said, and he sucked on the other again, hearing the change in Fuji's cries, feeling Fuji's legs around him. "Relax, Fuji." I'm here. Come.
No, not yet... "If you want me, Tezuka." Fuji moaned, savoring in the pleasure that the other man was bringing him, wishing to return the 'favor.' "Take me."
Well, then. Tezuka said nothing, merely tonguing Fuji again, and took the other deep into his mouth until Fuji's erection was pressing against the back of his throat. He sucked, and bobbed his head, beginning a slow relentless rhythm.
"Tezuka...!" The spy's body was crackling with excitement. "Tezuka... Not without you...!" He wanted to feel the other man, as close as possible. Fuji cried again. "Want you... in me..."
Giving Fuji a few more gentle strokes, as much a transition as anything else, Tezuka tried to remember where his lube was, and cursed himself for leaving it in the bedroom. He nuzzled Fuji, fingers circling the other as he released him from his mouth. "Wait here," he said, standing, wincing as cloth brushed against his own erection.
Fuji let out another sigh, part relieved that the almost painful stimulation had stopped, and part frustrated as the other man had gotten him quite hard. Despite knowing Tezuka had taken quite a few people to bed, the agent was much better than Fuji had anticipated.
It was torture walking to the bedside table with an erection demanding to be freed, and even more torture walking back--the cloth rubbed and teased until Tezuka moaned, stopped, and removed his own pants, dropping them next to Fuji's, kneeling now, gently stroking Fuji's thighs to allow himself to kneel between them.
Fuji gave a light smile as the other man returned, his breathing still slightly fast. Blue eyes appreciated the sight before him, even with the shirt hiding the agents (surely) defined torso.
Spreading his legs slowly and shyly when asked, the spy couldn't help but be a little nervous. Which was ridiculous considering how many people he'd been with over the years, both personal and work-wise, but right now, he felt like this was his first time.
Tezuka's heart was beating so quickly he wasn't sure this wasn't his first time either. He uncapped the little tube, and squeezed, the gel cool on his fingers. Taking the time to let it warm, Tezuka finally daubed it lightly around puckered skin, then gently worked a slick finger inside.
"Tez....!" The spy drew his breath sharply as he felt the penetration, arms reaching up to grab the armrest to stabilize himself. But not once did his eyes leave the man above him, drinking in a sight that he'd only seen in his dreams all these years.
"Shh," Tezuka murmured, and he worked a second finger inside slowly, feeling Fuji stretch and constrict around his fingers at the same time, feeling Fuji's eyes on him. He refused to be self-conscious. Fuji looked gorgeous, lying there in front of him, open and tense and waiting, _waiting for Tezuka_. The second finger slipped in, and then Tezuka squeezed a little more gel out, and slowly worked in a third.
"Tezuka... Tezuka...!" The brunet continued to wince, even as the pleasure started to show itself through the pain and discomfort of being stretched. I want to feel him, I love him, I want to see him lose control...
There was a spot in here somewhere, Tezuka knew. His cock twitched, but he paid it no heed as he gently stretched Fuji, and explored a little with his fingers, seeking that little rough patch he knew was inside somewhere.
The spy was moaning at every movement of the other's fingers inside of him, pleasure slowly gaining ground until the spy was writhing and moving atop the fingers... until a sudden brush-by caused him to freeze and cringe, mouth open in a silent scream. Tezuka...!!!
Bending his head down again, Tezuka found the spot he had been nibbling, and he sucked again, hard, fingers occasionally gently brushing that spot that made Fuji tense and freeze and cringe. Even if Fuji left him ... Fuji was _his_ tonight, and for as long as this--his mark--remained. He licked it, sucked again, and then bit his own lip, knowing if he didn't hurry, he might not last very long inside Fuji. The embarrassment would kill him.
The gel was cool and cold on his cock, and Tezuka sucked in a breath, removing his fingers from Fuji, moving up to kiss the other man. "Let me in," he whispered against Fuji's lips, and positioned himself before slowly pushing in.
"Tezuka..." Fuji arched, first away from the marking then into it. Raising his head enough to see the mark against his hip, all the while flinching and moaning from the constant stimulation to that raw spot.
"Anything you wa..." Blue eyes and mouth open, Fuji cried out again at the feel of himself being penetrated. "Tezuka... Tezuka... TEZUKA!!!"
"Fuji," Tezuka panted, a breathless gasp, thrusting all the way in, feeling his insides constrict and expand from the tight, tight fit and his name on Fuji's lips. It felt so good he had to stop when he was all the way inside, and he gathered Fuji into his arms, tightly, squeezing the other tightly, resisting the urge to mark Fuji's neck.
"Fuji," he managed, strained, "I ... won't last long."
Tezuka was a very tight fit inside of his body, his muscles clenching automatically around the other man's member. But it was not uncomfortable, in fact, it was arousing to no end that after all these time, Tezuka was finally in him. Fuji held desperately onto the former director, throwing his head back as he moaned in pleasure, feeling the other man buried inside of him fully.
"Tezuka... Tezuka..." The spy was kissing the Tezuka once more, urgently and needingly. "Take me."
Fuji's moans and cries and kisses were intoxicating, exhilarating. Tezuka couldn't stop the moan that emerged as he began, but he could at least try to make it good for Fuji. Even as he tried to angle his thrusts, biting his lips with the concentration of trying to hold it in, Tezuka reached down, thumb rubbing against the tip of Fuji's cock, and closed his eyes, thrusting again and again and again, as deep as he could.
The spy was only too eager to respond, giving himself full into Tezuka's pleasure. Rolling his hips and meeting the agent's thrusts, encouraging the other to take more from him, use his body for pleasure until it was too much. Hands gripping for dear life on the sofa's material, the pair began the dance of primal lust, with the former director's name never leaving Fuji's lips.
He'd meant to make this slow and loving and affectionate, but Fuji was pushing him, pulling him, dragging him out, forcing Tezuka to respond in ways that made his breath quicken even more until his pulse hammered in his head. Groaning, Tezuka thrust harder and faster, feeling his breath, ragged in his throat. He wanted Fuji to come first, but if he wasn't careful, he would.
And Fuji only pulled harder against the other's control, wanting to see the agent lose his layer of control. "Ah... Tezu...ka... ahhh..." The spy only tempted the other man harder as the pace steadily grew, his breathing a mess and his body only wishing to being the glassed man more pleasure than the moment before.
The other man felt so hard inside of him, and Fuji pratically impaled himself upon the delicious length. No matter how hard he tried to slow down, the simple fact that Tezuka was taking him was enough to make the spy take out almost every trick in his book to ensure that the agent would enjoy himself, greatly.
It was no use. Every time he tried to slow down, Fuji would tilt his hips, or draw fingers down his back, or grip Tezuka's sides tightly, causing him to cry out and increase his pace again.
"Fu-- Fuji, Fu--" Tezuka gasped, and then he cried out, fingers digging into Fuji's shoulders as he tensed and shuddered, and then came, eyes screwed tightly shut, gasping for breath.
He could feel Tezuka filling him up. The familiar sudden warmness inside of himself couldn't be mistaken. "Tezuka..." The spy continued to thrust against the other's member even as he came, wishing to prolong the orgasm as much as possible.
But it was also those final extra thrusts that tipped the spy's balance and threw him right into Tezuka's arms. His body wrapping tightly around the other man's, Fuji muffled his cry of the agent's name into the other's chest.
Tezuka would have paused, unable to continue, but Fuji was thrusting himself against Tezuka, and the orgasm was so painful and intense his cry trailed off, but he continued to gasp soundlessly, clinging to Fuji tightly now, and then he felt Fuji constrict around him. He winced and shuddered and dug fingers into porcelain skin, squeezing Fuji tightly, feeling the warm splatter on their chests, not caring, wrapping arms just as tightly around Fuji as he tried to at least cushion the other.
The force of the orgasm knocked Fuji into the next ten years and back, gasping for breath as his body finally relaxed and went slightly limp. The spy licked at the other man's moist skin. Tezuka tasted and smelled of sweat and sex.
He was only vaguely aware of Fuji's body relaxing, and Tezuka held the other tightly, panting, wincing from the sensitivity. He would never be able to do this again with anyone else, he thought, and then Tezuka realized it didn't matter, he didn't want to. I love you, he thought, and his arms circled the other, panting softly, brain trying to catch up.
And then he realized he had said that out loud.
Fuji's face would have paled if he was not flushed from the recent 'exercise'. He said it, he said it, he said it. The slender body instinctively wrapped itself around the other man still inside of him. He didn't want to answer in case Tezuka hadn’t meant it. The spy simply refused to push the other man in any way, intentionally.
Fuji's reaction had been both unexpected and expected at the same time. Tezuka's arms tightened around the other, and he buried his face in Fuji's damp hair. After a while, when he was sure Fuji wasn't going to say something, Tezuka spoke, quietly, much less breathlessly than before.
"I love you," he repeated, quietly.
"And you know I love you." The voice was still muffled by Tezuka's chest muscles. I've loved you for a long time, you just never noticed. He had no clue what had prompted the agent to speak those words, frankly even suspecting it was the heat of the moment, but… it warmed him to hear it still.
Gently kissing the top of Fuji's head, Tezuka would have stayed ... but it was getting uncomfortable in that position. He shifted, and then pulled out, a gasp at the sudden shift, unwilling to leave, knowing he needed to. With a soft nuzzle at Fuji's neck, Tezuka said, "I'll be right back."
He was as good as his word, with a damp towel from the bathroom to clean Fuji off.
Fuji was just unwilling as Tezuka when the other pulled out, but he allowed it, mostly because Tezuka wished it. However, the spy immediately snuggled up to the other man when he returned. "Thank you." The brunet sighed. For finally saying the words. He wasn't sure how long this would last, but Fuji more than wanted to stay there forever.
At least tonight, let me think about nothing but you. So if anything happens tomorrow... I can just say I was dreaming a very good dream.
Feeling himself snuggled, Tezuka moved a little, shifting to be more comfortable. "The bed is warm," he said, quietly, even as he pulled Fuji to him and gently stroked the other's hair. From this angle, the mark on Fuji's collarbone was clearly visible to Tezuka, but Tezuka ignored it.
Tonight Fuji was his, and no matter how many marks Saeki left on Fuji ... tonight, Fuji was here.
***
Fuji awakened with a startled twitch and immediately tensed. His eyes darted around the strange ceiling, strange room, wondering just where he was. Then he felt it, the strong arms holding him close to the still strange but not uncomfortable warmth.
Looking over his shoulder, he smiled at the peaceful expression of the other sleeping man. Tezuka looked so at ease and the spy couldn't help but wiggle gently until he was turned around so he might lightly kiss the agent's lips. He savored the lingering taste on his own mouth as he snuggled closer to the other and fell asleep once more.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Finally, Tezuka and Fuji get to really know each other in the biblical sense. This encounter was only ... what, 10 years in the making? Pshaw. (^_^;;; Longest foreplay ever. 10 years. *headdesks*)
The spy hadn't been there in forever, and he walked in slowly to take in the apartment once more. The space still looked pretty much the same except for minor changes. "I see you've unpacked."
"Mostly," Tezuka said, making sure the door was bolted. He watched Fuji look around the apartment. "Nothing's changed." Perhaps it was marginally cleaner. That was about the only change one might notice.
Nodding Fuji was about to drape his jacket over the hanger when he noticed it. "Nothing?" The spy smiled as he walked over to the photo frame that was no longer where it was before the glassed man moved.
One didn't actually mark the locations of all these things when one moved. And if Tezuka had placed Fuji's picture a little more prominently, who would have noticed? Except Fuji, he supposed. He merely looked at Fuji holding the frame, and gave the lightest of shrugs.
You actually cared. "You know, I would have helped you move in if needed." Fuji put the picture back, tested with his fingers to find no dust on the frame, and smiled lightly to himself.
"It wasn't necessary," Tezuka said, shaking his head. He watched Fuji finger the frame, and wondered what Fuji was thinking. He'd never really voiced questions of that sort after Fuji had answered him honestly the first time he'd done so in Harvard.
And Fuji was glad Tezuka learned the lesson. Some people took a few more lessons. Walking back beside Tezuka, Fuji took the dirty jacket from the man's arms. "I'll get this washed." He smiled. "I owe you one."
"You don't have to," Tezuka said, but he let go of it gratefully. He didn't like going to the dry cleaner's, and he hadn't needed to since becoming director. Hoshina had been efficient and motherly.
Though now that he wasn't the director, he didn't have anyone else to do the job. He nodded his thanks to Fuji.
Fuji was more than used to playing the 'nagging caretaker' role. Someone had to make sure Tezuka was actually eating when final exams time rolled around. Folding the jacket, he placed it by the door to make sure he'd remember when he leave. "Come on, let's get you warmed up." The spy turned to head into the kitchen, hoping there were still enough tea bags left over.
Privately, it amused Tezuka that Fuji was mothering him. "Yes, sir," he said, taking Fuji's jacket and putting it in the closet. When they opened it for Fuji's jacket, they would hopefully remember it.
If not, Tezuka would just have to go to the dry cleaner's himself sooner or later.
There were indeed tea bags, and some fresh food, too. Tezuka wondered if he should make some dinner, and attempt something that wouldn't make Fuji sick. "Would you like dinner?" he asked.
"Do you actually remember how to cook?" Tezuka had been so busy with his director work that Fuji wasn't sure the former director knew anything else. "... Or how to cook to begin with."
Stiffly, Tezuka gave Fuji a glare. "I can cook." He pulled down a pot, and filled it with water, setting it on the stove and turning on the fire before turning to Fuji. "It's limited, but I promise not to poison you."
"You wouldn't be the first one." The brunet chuckled as his leaned his forehead against the other man's back. "You smell nice."
"Thank you," Tezuka said, and he slipped his arms around Fuji, then kissed Fuji's forehead. You do too.
"Make yourself at home," Tezuka said, turning back to the stove. "It shouldn't take long."
Fuji nodded and returned to the living room obediently, sitting in his usual seat which was also his usual 'bed'. The furniture still felt the same. “Glad to see you again,” the spy whispered to the furniture as he gently caressed the surface.
It indeed didn't take long. Tezuka was soon out of the kitchen, gingerly carrying a large tray on which two steaming bowls sat. He set them on the coffee table before Fuji.
"Homey." The brunet remarked as he regarded the food with an amused look.
"Edible," Tezuka retorted, flushing. His cooking skills paled beside those of others, but he was at least able to make it edible. It rankled, not being able to do it well.
"Sit." The spy reached out and latched onto the other man's sleeve, but only tentatively. He still wasn't too sure about where they stood or even if they were even standing. So many things were unsure right now, all he could do was to take one step at a time.
Tezuka obeyed the request, sitting down next to Fuji, looking somewhat embarrassed. Fuji earned a better salary, took better pictures, cooked better food. What the other saw in Tezuka, Tezuka honestly didn't know. But he slipped an arm around Fuji anyway, and squeezed the other's waist.
Better salary only when combined. He'd better, considering what his cover was, and well... a few former hospital patients might disagree with the cooking. Edging towards Tezuka, the spy leaned against the taller man's shoulder, blowing a few strands out of his eyes.
Lifting a finger, Tezuka hesitated a moment, and then tucked Fuji's hair behind his ears for the first time.
"Eat before the soup gets cold," he said, quietly.
Playfully looking up at the other man, Fuji winked. "What's my reward?"
"A full stomach," Tezuka said, raising an eyebrow.
"That's it?" Fuji wrinkled his nose lightly.
"If I rewarded you for eating dinner, Fuji," Tezuka explained, gently kissing the tip of Fuji's nose, "you'd soon ask me to reward you for other things."
Tezuka's fingers stroked the small of Fuji's back lightly. "For coming back with me." His fingers smoothed light brown strands, gently stroking. "For staying."
Then Tezuka gently cupped Fuji's face, and turned it to him with a gentle look. "For being." He gave the other a light kiss.
Their fourth kiss. "I fail to see the downside, Tezuka."
"It wouldn't do to spoil you," Tezuka said, and he kissed Fuji again for the fifth time.
"Why not?" Fuji chuckled into their sixth. "Sa..." The spy quickly stopped himself. So what if Saeki spoiled him rotten? Saeki and Tezuka weren't the same person. Not to mention saying the other’s name while in the agent’s company was just bad taste. Still… Fuji wondered what the analyst was doing at the moment. "Same thing, I fail to see the downside."
So Saeki spoiled Fuji.
Tezuka's chest ached a little, and his breath caught in his throat. He gently broke the kiss, and nudged Fuji. "Someone has to be firm with you. Now eat."
"It doesn't have to be you?" The spy murmured, still lying against the other man. He behaved well enough when things became serious.
"Eat," Tezuka repeated, and he gently rubbed Fuji's back. "The soup will get cold." He let Fuji go, and picked up his chopsticks.
"Ahh." The spy relented... only slightly. Saeki not only spoiled Fuji rotten, he was spoilt so rotten that he might as well be a fossil.
Too much spoiling was bad for one's character, though the temptation to do so was strong. Tezuka sipped the broth, and watched out of the corner of his eye, hoping Fuji would find the taste ... if not to his liking, at least, edible.
Fuji pouted again. "Ahhh..."
With an inner sigh, Tezuka picked up Fuji's spoon, placed some noodles and soup on it, and gently blew on it. He silently fed it to Fuji.
The spy sipped at the soup with a smile. "That's better." Finishing the broth, he licked his lips lightly. "Although still with some room for improvement." And he meant the way of delivery, not the food itself.
Not understanding, Tezuka furrowed his brows. "Not enough salt?"
Fuji chuckled. "You'll know."
Not the salt, then. "Are the mushrooms not fresh?"
"They are, just...." The spy leaned in closer. "Efficiency."
Tezuka blinked, not comprehending.
"The food could be delivered in a more timely manner." The spy explained. "Like..." Their seventh.
Mushroom and chicken and udon and Fuji. Tezuka couldn't help but swallow even as his heart thumped. He pushed gently, breaking the kiss. "Fuji," he said, and then found himself speechless, because even mixed with mushroom and half-chewed noodles and salty chicken essence, Fuji still tasted like Fuji.
Fuji leaned forward to deepen the kiss slightly before pulling away. "Now..." He breathed as he pulled away, yet still close enough that their lips touched as he spoke. "Wasn't that more efficient?"
Damn the udon. Tezuka reached out, kissing Fuji again. The soup was fainter now, salty with a slight hint of mushrooms. Tezuka tightened his arms around Fuji, slowly exploring the other's mouth.
Tezuka tasted... clean, yet intense and rich. The spy sighed into the kiss. The other's arms were strong around him, and they supported him through the sudden weakness the spy felt at the kiss.
Fuji seemed to be leaning on him now, but Tezuka didn't mind. If nothing else, he had always been ready to support Fuji. He did so now, arms wrapping around the other tighter. Deepening the kiss, he tasted more of Fuji now, vaguely spicy, mostly sweet, and something else, something undefineable.
How he had managed to not know this was so close and had always been waiting for him? Tezuka wanted more.
"Tezuka..." Fuji breathed. His heart seemed to be going a hundred miles an hour. So long, he'd waited so long for this, to feel Tezuka's arms around him, the former director’s lips on his own. How he loved the man, even if Tezuka would never know how deep the affection went.
"Fuji," Tezuka breathed, breaking the kiss reluctantly to gently kiss and nibble the other's lips.
He wanted more, but only if Fuji did.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," Tezuka said, though his breath was slightly quicker and heavier than usual. If Fuji wanted him to stop, he wanted to know when he was still able to.
"I want anything you want." The spy answered, his breathing just slightly irregular. "I want... you." I always have, you just never noticed. "Anything I can give you... I would."
"Give me your company tonight," Tezuka said, and gently nibbled again, breath quickening with promise. He didn't dare ask for more. Even if Fuji left him tomorrow ... he would have had tonight. He kissed Fuji again, leaving the noodles as they were on the table.
"As you wish." Fuji breathed, wincing lightly at the bite, yet loving the feel of the other's lips and teeth and everything on him. It was only until later did he realize that those were the words that a certain analyst whispered to him whenever Fuji was behaving spoilt.
Kissing Fuji again, Tezuka took Fuji in his arms, and maneuvered them so that the photographer was now lying beneath him. He straddled Fuji, not letting himself become a weight on the other. His fingers worked at Fuji's shirt buttons, gently undoing them from the top.
Tezuka could feel his heart hammering in his throat, and he closed his eyes to regain his balance before breaking the kiss lightly, moving to gently nibble Fuji's jaw. He pulled back to undo the rest of the buttons, and paused. Fuji was beautiful, pale skin and fragile appearance hiding muscles and inner strength one didn't notice until one looked.
"I never noticed your beauty before," Tezuka said, breath catching in his throat. "How could I have been so blind?" He gently kissed Fuji's exposed skin, worshipping each part.
Fuji's breath hiked as he felt the cool air on his skin, but that only encouraged him to arch into the warmth of the other's lips on his body. "We've... both been blind." He moaned lightly as his hands found their way into the agent's hair, letting his fingers swim among the dark soft strands.
"You said you've always known." Tezuka sighed against pale skin, eyes closing at Fuji's fingers slipping into his hair. Fuji arching against him like this was both new and at the same time familiar. He'd never heard Fuji moan like this before, and he sucked lightly on the pale skin in response, not hard enough to mark skin.
The shirt was unbuttoned now, and Tezuka pushed it aside, letting it slide down to Fuji's sides for now. He kissed and licked the skin it exposed, loving the way Fuji tasted.
“Known and done what?” For a few moments Fuji panicked as his shirt was pushed aside, revealing the dark bite mark on his collarbone that Saeki would renew everytime they laid together. So often that the bruise was nearly permanent, an intense shade of purple against the pale skin.
It hadn't been visible before, and Tezuka hadn't paid attention to Fuji's collarbone, but when Fuji stiffened momentarily, Tezuka looked up to reassure the other.
He noticed the mark. Gently fingering it, Tezuka closed his eyes. "Do you like your men possessive?" he asked quietly.
Fuji contemplated his answer. Yes, he did like it when Saeki was possessive. He even went as far as to invoke the other's wrath so that he might see that jealousy boil. But, this was Tezuka, he would like what Tezuka liked, be what Tezuka wanted him to be. "Up to you."
Tezuka fingered the purple mark, silently, and then dipped his head to lick it, as if he was wiping Saeki's claim away.
The spy only pressed himself tighter against the other's lips. They felt like fire, burning and consuming him. "Tezuka..." The spy moaned the name again, hands tightening in the other's hair, pressing the lips firmer against his skin. The slender body adjusted to fit into every curve of the agent's body, almost as if wanting to melt into the other.
Feeling Fuji's body arch up against him and the other man's fingers tighten in his hair, Tezuka kissed the mark, and then held Fuji down, kissing a trail down to Fuji's pants, where he stroked the area where Fuji's pants met skin.
He hesitated, and then undid them, unzipping, gently kissing further down, pushing the fabric down lightly as he moved.
"Tezuka...!" The other's kisses was intoxicating, and the more the other gave, the more Fuji wanted them. But... "Tezuka... I... I'm not..." Clean, I've been with too many people... would you even accept a body like this?
"Shh," Tezuka said, temporarily abandoning his quest. He moved up, and gently kissed Fuji again, a quietly affectionate kiss that warmed his body. "I don't need to know. You don't need to tell me." I already know about Saeki.
He moved down again, and continued his move downwards, but then he moved to the side, kissing along Fuji's hipbones, then seeming to find a site particularly tasty, lingered. If Saeki was marking Fuji ... Tezuka would too.
Comforted by the kiss, the fingers in the hair turned into gentle caresses, touching Tezuka anywhere he could reach. "Tezuka..." The spy's heart swelled. He had dreamt about this for so long. So many nights since their school years he had wondered how the other man would feel against his own body.
And imagination had nothing on reality.
Nibbling, kissing, sucking on the spot he'd chosen, Tezuka pulled Fuji's pants down, gently working them off. He left his ministrations for a moment, and tugged them off, pushing them aside.
Sengoku had liked it when Tezuka did this, so Tezuka tried it on Fuji. He bent his head, and licked Fuji's cock, from root to tip, slowly; making sure Fuji could feel the pressure.
The spy let out a loud explosion of breath as he felt the other's tongue on him, immediately squirming from the touch. Yet not moving away. He was pretty much fully naked in front of the other man, and yet a part of him was embarrassed as if his mentality had regressed to when the two men had first met, trying to hide himself behind his arms.
Tezuka stroked Fuji's hips lightly, fingering the slight discoloration he'd caused earlier. "You're beautiful," he said, the affection plain in his voice as he watched Fuji squirm. "Please ... don't run from me."
"Tezuka..." Fuji's eyes were half-lidded as he looked back to the man on top of him. "I... won't run." I don't know what made you change your mind, I don't know what you see in me, or maybe that's why you rejected me in the first place. The spy pulled the other close, not wishing to give up possession of Tezuka's lips.
In response, Tezuka tongued Fuji again, and then sucked, gently at first, listening, until Fuji moaned, before slowly upping the pace. He stroked the other's pale skin, feeling the pulses beneath the surface, heard Fuji's breath quicken, knew Fuji's half-lidded eyes were on him.
"Tezuka... Tezuka... Tezuka..." The spy was gasping aloud, wrapping his legs around the agent in encouragement. "What do you want?"
"You," Tezuka said, and he sucked on the other again, hearing the change in Fuji's cries, feeling Fuji's legs around him. "Relax, Fuji." I'm here. Come.
No, not yet... "If you want me, Tezuka." Fuji moaned, savoring in the pleasure that the other man was bringing him, wishing to return the 'favor.' "Take me."
Well, then. Tezuka said nothing, merely tonguing Fuji again, and took the other deep into his mouth until Fuji's erection was pressing against the back of his throat. He sucked, and bobbed his head, beginning a slow relentless rhythm.
"Tezuka...!" The spy's body was crackling with excitement. "Tezuka... Not without you...!" He wanted to feel the other man, as close as possible. Fuji cried again. "Want you... in me..."
Giving Fuji a few more gentle strokes, as much a transition as anything else, Tezuka tried to remember where his lube was, and cursed himself for leaving it in the bedroom. He nuzzled Fuji, fingers circling the other as he released him from his mouth. "Wait here," he said, standing, wincing as cloth brushed against his own erection.
Fuji let out another sigh, part relieved that the almost painful stimulation had stopped, and part frustrated as the other man had gotten him quite hard. Despite knowing Tezuka had taken quite a few people to bed, the agent was much better than Fuji had anticipated.
It was torture walking to the bedside table with an erection demanding to be freed, and even more torture walking back--the cloth rubbed and teased until Tezuka moaned, stopped, and removed his own pants, dropping them next to Fuji's, kneeling now, gently stroking Fuji's thighs to allow himself to kneel between them.
Fuji gave a light smile as the other man returned, his breathing still slightly fast. Blue eyes appreciated the sight before him, even with the shirt hiding the agents (surely) defined torso.
Spreading his legs slowly and shyly when asked, the spy couldn't help but be a little nervous. Which was ridiculous considering how many people he'd been with over the years, both personal and work-wise, but right now, he felt like this was his first time.
Tezuka's heart was beating so quickly he wasn't sure this wasn't his first time either. He uncapped the little tube, and squeezed, the gel cool on his fingers. Taking the time to let it warm, Tezuka finally daubed it lightly around puckered skin, then gently worked a slick finger inside.
"Tez....!" The spy drew his breath sharply as he felt the penetration, arms reaching up to grab the armrest to stabilize himself. But not once did his eyes leave the man above him, drinking in a sight that he'd only seen in his dreams all these years.
"Shh," Tezuka murmured, and he worked a second finger inside slowly, feeling Fuji stretch and constrict around his fingers at the same time, feeling Fuji's eyes on him. He refused to be self-conscious. Fuji looked gorgeous, lying there in front of him, open and tense and waiting, _waiting for Tezuka_. The second finger slipped in, and then Tezuka squeezed a little more gel out, and slowly worked in a third.
"Tezuka... Tezuka...!" The brunet continued to wince, even as the pleasure started to show itself through the pain and discomfort of being stretched. I want to feel him, I love him, I want to see him lose control...
There was a spot in here somewhere, Tezuka knew. His cock twitched, but he paid it no heed as he gently stretched Fuji, and explored a little with his fingers, seeking that little rough patch he knew was inside somewhere.
The spy was moaning at every movement of the other's fingers inside of him, pleasure slowly gaining ground until the spy was writhing and moving atop the fingers... until a sudden brush-by caused him to freeze and cringe, mouth open in a silent scream. Tezuka...!!!
Bending his head down again, Tezuka found the spot he had been nibbling, and he sucked again, hard, fingers occasionally gently brushing that spot that made Fuji tense and freeze and cringe. Even if Fuji left him ... Fuji was _his_ tonight, and for as long as this--his mark--remained. He licked it, sucked again, and then bit his own lip, knowing if he didn't hurry, he might not last very long inside Fuji. The embarrassment would kill him.
The gel was cool and cold on his cock, and Tezuka sucked in a breath, removing his fingers from Fuji, moving up to kiss the other man. "Let me in," he whispered against Fuji's lips, and positioned himself before slowly pushing in.
"Tezuka..." Fuji arched, first away from the marking then into it. Raising his head enough to see the mark against his hip, all the while flinching and moaning from the constant stimulation to that raw spot.
"Anything you wa..." Blue eyes and mouth open, Fuji cried out again at the feel of himself being penetrated. "Tezuka... Tezuka... TEZUKA!!!"
"Fuji," Tezuka panted, a breathless gasp, thrusting all the way in, feeling his insides constrict and expand from the tight, tight fit and his name on Fuji's lips. It felt so good he had to stop when he was all the way inside, and he gathered Fuji into his arms, tightly, squeezing the other tightly, resisting the urge to mark Fuji's neck.
"Fuji," he managed, strained, "I ... won't last long."
Tezuka was a very tight fit inside of his body, his muscles clenching automatically around the other man's member. But it was not uncomfortable, in fact, it was arousing to no end that after all these time, Tezuka was finally in him. Fuji held desperately onto the former director, throwing his head back as he moaned in pleasure, feeling the other man buried inside of him fully.
"Tezuka... Tezuka..." The spy was kissing the Tezuka once more, urgently and needingly. "Take me."
Fuji's moans and cries and kisses were intoxicating, exhilarating. Tezuka couldn't stop the moan that emerged as he began, but he could at least try to make it good for Fuji. Even as he tried to angle his thrusts, biting his lips with the concentration of trying to hold it in, Tezuka reached down, thumb rubbing against the tip of Fuji's cock, and closed his eyes, thrusting again and again and again, as deep as he could.
The spy was only too eager to respond, giving himself full into Tezuka's pleasure. Rolling his hips and meeting the agent's thrusts, encouraging the other to take more from him, use his body for pleasure until it was too much. Hands gripping for dear life on the sofa's material, the pair began the dance of primal lust, with the former director's name never leaving Fuji's lips.
He'd meant to make this slow and loving and affectionate, but Fuji was pushing him, pulling him, dragging him out, forcing Tezuka to respond in ways that made his breath quicken even more until his pulse hammered in his head. Groaning, Tezuka thrust harder and faster, feeling his breath, ragged in his throat. He wanted Fuji to come first, but if he wasn't careful, he would.
And Fuji only pulled harder against the other's control, wanting to see the agent lose his layer of control. "Ah... Tezu...ka... ahhh..." The spy only tempted the other man harder as the pace steadily grew, his breathing a mess and his body only wishing to being the glassed man more pleasure than the moment before.
The other man felt so hard inside of him, and Fuji pratically impaled himself upon the delicious length. No matter how hard he tried to slow down, the simple fact that Tezuka was taking him was enough to make the spy take out almost every trick in his book to ensure that the agent would enjoy himself, greatly.
It was no use. Every time he tried to slow down, Fuji would tilt his hips, or draw fingers down his back, or grip Tezuka's sides tightly, causing him to cry out and increase his pace again.
"Fu-- Fuji, Fu--" Tezuka gasped, and then he cried out, fingers digging into Fuji's shoulders as he tensed and shuddered, and then came, eyes screwed tightly shut, gasping for breath.
He could feel Tezuka filling him up. The familiar sudden warmness inside of himself couldn't be mistaken. "Tezuka..." The spy continued to thrust against the other's member even as he came, wishing to prolong the orgasm as much as possible.
But it was also those final extra thrusts that tipped the spy's balance and threw him right into Tezuka's arms. His body wrapping tightly around the other man's, Fuji muffled his cry of the agent's name into the other's chest.
Tezuka would have paused, unable to continue, but Fuji was thrusting himself against Tezuka, and the orgasm was so painful and intense his cry trailed off, but he continued to gasp soundlessly, clinging to Fuji tightly now, and then he felt Fuji constrict around him. He winced and shuddered and dug fingers into porcelain skin, squeezing Fuji tightly, feeling the warm splatter on their chests, not caring, wrapping arms just as tightly around Fuji as he tried to at least cushion the other.
The force of the orgasm knocked Fuji into the next ten years and back, gasping for breath as his body finally relaxed and went slightly limp. The spy licked at the other man's moist skin. Tezuka tasted and smelled of sweat and sex.
He was only vaguely aware of Fuji's body relaxing, and Tezuka held the other tightly, panting, wincing from the sensitivity. He would never be able to do this again with anyone else, he thought, and then Tezuka realized it didn't matter, he didn't want to. I love you, he thought, and his arms circled the other, panting softly, brain trying to catch up.
And then he realized he had said that out loud.
Fuji's face would have paled if he was not flushed from the recent 'exercise'. He said it, he said it, he said it. The slender body instinctively wrapped itself around the other man still inside of him. He didn't want to answer in case Tezuka hadn’t meant it. The spy simply refused to push the other man in any way, intentionally.
Fuji's reaction had been both unexpected and expected at the same time. Tezuka's arms tightened around the other, and he buried his face in Fuji's damp hair. After a while, when he was sure Fuji wasn't going to say something, Tezuka spoke, quietly, much less breathlessly than before.
"I love you," he repeated, quietly.
"And you know I love you." The voice was still muffled by Tezuka's chest muscles. I've loved you for a long time, you just never noticed. He had no clue what had prompted the agent to speak those words, frankly even suspecting it was the heat of the moment, but… it warmed him to hear it still.
Gently kissing the top of Fuji's head, Tezuka would have stayed ... but it was getting uncomfortable in that position. He shifted, and then pulled out, a gasp at the sudden shift, unwilling to leave, knowing he needed to. With a soft nuzzle at Fuji's neck, Tezuka said, "I'll be right back."
He was as good as his word, with a damp towel from the bathroom to clean Fuji off.
Fuji was just unwilling as Tezuka when the other pulled out, but he allowed it, mostly because Tezuka wished it. However, the spy immediately snuggled up to the other man when he returned. "Thank you." The brunet sighed. For finally saying the words. He wasn't sure how long this would last, but Fuji more than wanted to stay there forever.
At least tonight, let me think about nothing but you. So if anything happens tomorrow... I can just say I was dreaming a very good dream.
Feeling himself snuggled, Tezuka moved a little, shifting to be more comfortable. "The bed is warm," he said, quietly, even as he pulled Fuji to him and gently stroked the other's hair. From this angle, the mark on Fuji's collarbone was clearly visible to Tezuka, but Tezuka ignored it.
Tonight Fuji was his, and no matter how many marks Saeki left on Fuji ... tonight, Fuji was here.
***
Fuji awakened with a startled twitch and immediately tensed. His eyes darted around the strange ceiling, strange room, wondering just where he was. Then he felt it, the strong arms holding him close to the still strange but not uncomfortable warmth.
Looking over his shoulder, he smiled at the peaceful expression of the other sleeping man. Tezuka looked so at ease and the spy couldn't help but wiggle gently until he was turned around so he might lightly kiss the agent's lips. He savored the lingering taste on his own mouth as he snuggled closer to the other and fell asleep once more.