Happy Santa_Smex, Argentinaskies!
To: argentinaskies
From: cmere
Title: Rematch
Recipient's name: argentinaskies
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Fuji/Yuuta
Warnings: Incest
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Konomi Takeshi. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Thank you so much to my amazing betas for all the help and hand-holding.
When Fuji thinks of the reasons he plays tennis, the one he always comes back to is Yuuta. He does enjoy it, enjoys winning, enjoys pushing people to their limit, forcing them to rise to meet his level and watching them fail in the end. He likes the team and the way everyone seems to feel bonded based on their shared experiences running laps as the sun goes down or doing five hundred more racket swings in the scorching heat, sweat prickling at all their temples as they pant together. It's very nice.
However, what's nicest of all is knowing that Yuuta needs him. And as long as Yuuta hasn't beaten Fuji at tennis, he will always need him.
--
After Yuuta first left for St. Rudolph, Fuji missed him.
Yuuta called home three times a week at the request of their mother; he never wanted to talk to Fuji. He came back for dinner or to spend the night on weekends sometimes, but Fuji missed having him there to talk to all the time, to brush his teeth with, to drag to the courts when he was bored or antsy. When Fuji first called Yuuta, a couple months after he left, he didn't think it would become a regular thing. And when Yuuta hung up on him after the first call ("What do you want?" "Just to see how you are." "I'm fine." "Yuuta-") Fuji didn't think Yuuta would want to talk to him at all. But when he called back a few days later, they talked for two minutes and fifty-four seconds (that's what the display on Fuji's phone said, at least), and when he called a week after that, they talked for even longer. And soon Fuji realized that Yuuta was looking forward to his calls as much as Fuji looked forward to calling him.
Fuji hasn't called Yuuta now for two and a half years and he's not sure what drives him to do it again. It might be because he misses Yuuta or it might be because he misses how it used to make him feel. Either way, after Seigaku's first practice of Fuji's last year of high school, the urge to call Yuuta is so overwhelming that he picks up his phone, presses number two on speed dial, and hopes.
Yuuta picking up right away is the last thing he expected.
"What do you want?" Yuuta says by way of greeting, but it doesn't have any bite. Fuji feels the tension bleed out of him a little.
"I just want to talk," he says, almost whispering. It sounds true, even to him.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"How's your team this year?" Fuji says, because it's the first thing he can think of.
"Are you trying to spy?" Yuuta demands.
"We have Inui for that," Fuji replies with a little smile, before he remembers that Yuuta can't see him. "I'm just curious to know what you think of them."
"I…they're fine."
"Are you the best?"
"Mizuki-san will always be better than me," Yuuta says quickly.
"How will you beat me if you can't beat him?" Fuji can almost hear Yuuta's glower.
"I'll beat you." Yuuta's voice is low and serious.
"I hope we get to play each other this year," Fuji says. "In a real match. I've always wanted to."
"So you can prove once and for all how much better you are than me?" Yuuta doesn't even try to hide his bitterness and Fuji hates, again, that that is what Yuuta thinks he wants-to win.
"It's never been about that," Fuji says quietly. "You know that. I just don't ever want to let you win."
"You better not ever."
"I wouldn't."
Yuuta doesn't respond and Fuji doesn't say anything else. Each silent moment that goes by makes Fuji feel a little more nervous and he loses track of how long they stay there like that, listening to each other breathe. He can't bring himself to speak; he doesn't even allow himself to move, and he's struck by how-if this first conversation is anything to go by-it would be so easy to fall back into how they were before. He pictures Yuuta sitting at his desk, staring at the wall. He pictures Yuuta lying in bed with the sheets tangled around his legs like always, feet poking out the bottom. Fuji closes his eyes and imagines Yuuta down the hall from him, not so far away after all.
"Yuuta-kun, are you awake?" Fuji finally hears in the background.
"Yes!" Yuuta says, and hangs up without saying goodbye.
--
Fuji doesn't know if he wants to call back, so he doesn't. He goes to school and he goes to practice and he eats dinner with his family and everything is fine. A week later, he lets Eiji, Momo, and Echizen drag him to the street courts. Yuuta is there with some of his teammates. Fuji watches him for a moment from farther off, before he's realized Fuji is there. He's laughing as someone Fuji doesn't recognize waves his racket around, clearly telling a story. Fuji hasn't seen him in weeks. He looks happy.
Echizen and Momo are already walking over and Yuuta spots them.
"Echizen!" Yuuta says with a grin. "I heard you were back! Want to play? I still need to pay you back for years ago. Didn't think I'd ever get the chance!"
"Sure," Echizen says, sounding like he doesn't care either way. Eiji looks over at Fuji a little nervously, like he's not sure how Fuji is going to react, and it propels him to walk forward. Eiji has never known the truth, but he knows that something about Yuuta makes Fuji different.
"Hi, everyone," Fuji says calmly as he approaches. "Hi, Yuuta."
"Aniki," Yuuta says, and he blushes. Fuji smiles.
"I'll ref your game," Fuji says.
"Let's go," Echizen replies, and Yuuta nods.
Fuji is glad for the excuse to see Yuuta play up close. He doesn't really have a chance, but he puts up a decent fight. Echizen's talent exploded while he was in America and it seems unlikely that anyone will be able to beat him again-except maybe Tezuka. But Fuji knows that has a lot less to do with talent and a lot more to do with Tezuka.
In the end, Yuuta doesn't even win a single game, and he looks frustrated as they shake hands over the net, brow furrowed and mouth drawn in a tight line.
"I want to play Echizen next!" says one of Yuuta's teammates that Fuji doesn't know. Echizen shrugs. He looks like he could play five or six more matches without much effort.
"You played well," Fuji says as Yuuta walks by him off the court. Yuuta shakes his head.
"I'll never beat that guy," Yuuta says.
"Most people won't," Fuji says.
"Even you?"
"Who knows," Fuji says. "We'll probably never finish a game." Yuuta looks at him and they lock eyes briefly, but Yuuta looks away. "You should come home for dinner tonight," Fuji suggests on a whim. Yuuta rarely comes home since he started high school; he claims he's too old to miss his family and none of the other boys go home except for holidays. Even Yumiko's pies haven't been able to lure him back since he had left early for the start of the school year.
"No."
"Mom's making-"
"I have to go," Yuuta cuts him off. "I'll…I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Yeah," Fuji says. He realizes his fists are clenched and he relaxes them, watches Yuuta walk away.
--
"How was dinner?" Yuuta says conversationally when Fuji calls that night without knowing if he really should or not. It makes him feel like he did the right thing.
"Great," Fuji says. "You missed out."
"I do miss Mom's cooking," Yuuta admits.
"You could come back more often. It's not like you're banned from the house except for holidays."
"I know," Yuuta says.
"Mom misses you."
"I know."
There's a pause and then Fuji launches into a story about the interesting bird he saw walking home from school today, because he can't deal with the silence right now. They say good night after twenty-seven minutes and thirteen seconds of conversation and Fuji's cheeks hurt from smiling. It's not something he's felt in a while.
--
Fuji calls back the next night without planning to, and it scares him a little. When he hadn't been talking to Yuuta, he had been able to forget how addicting it was, but every night Fuji finds himself calling and when Yuuta answers, his entire body feels light. And Yuuta answers, which makes Fuji think it makes him happy too. He likes imagining Yuuta checking the clock more and more as it approaches 9:30, wondering if Fuji is going to call or not. He likes that when he does always call, Yuuta sounds just a little relieved, even with how hard he tries to hide it.
Their conversations get longer and longer and yet they don't run out of things to talk about. Sometimes it reminds him of when they were little and they would talk on walkie-talkies from their rooms after they had gone to bed, but he doesn't tell Yuuta that. Sometimes he closes his eyes and pretends that Yuuta is there with him, sitting on the end of the bed, that he came home just to see Fuji. He doesn't tell Yuuta that, either. Sometimes Fuji thinks about all the things they don't say to each other, the things that fall into the void between them, and he wants to change it, but he can't risk losing this again. Every night he feels like he's winning matches that were actually hard for him to win.
The night before the start of the prefectural tournament, Fuji calls Yuuta and they don't really talk at all. He can hear how tense Yuuta is in the clipped tone of his voice; he knows how badly Yuuta wants St. Rudolph to make it this year. Fuji rambles a little and Yuuta barely responds, so he stops. They're both quiet.
"Are you asleep?" Fuji asks after minutes have passed.
"No," Yuuta says, his voice scratchy and low.
"Do you want to hang up?" Fuji asks. There's a pause.
"No," Yuuta says, finally. Fuji smiles a little.
"Okay."
Fuji doesn't remember falling asleep, but he wakes up at 5 a.m. with the phone mashed into his face. It's out of battery. He leaves it there and closes his eyes again.
--
The next day, Fuji runs into Yuuta in front of the master tournament schedule, where he finds out that Seigaku is playing Yamabuki and St. Rudolph is playing Fudoumine.
"They'll be tough to beat," Fuji says casually, as though he and Yuuta had been in the middle of a conversation.
"We can do it," Yuuta says fiercely. "We're strong this year."
"I hope you do," Fuji says, pointing. "Then we can play you next round."
"So confident that you're going to make it?" Fuji looks sideways at him and Yuuta blushes.
"We've got Tezuka at full strength and we've got Echizen back," he says. "We're unbeatable this year."
"We'll be able to win," Yuuta says.
"I'll look forward to playing you," Fuji replies.
They lock eyes for a moment, and then Yuuta turns and walks back toward his team. Fuji feels a flare of rage at the sight of Mizuki, but he represses it.
He walks back toward the other Seigaku regulars feeling more excited than he can remember about a tournament.
--
"I'd like to play Yuuta in the match," Fuji says purposefully to Tezuka at practice, after St. Rudolph have beaten Fudoumine, just barely.
"Is that okay?" Tezuka says, considering him. They're watching Ryoma warm up with another freshman who shows a lot of promise. Ryoma blows a smash past him and then rolls his eyes. Fuji sees him sneak a glance at Tezuka the one moment Tezuka is looking at Fuji.
"I think so," Fuji says. "I think he's ready."
"Are you ready?" Tezuka asks.
Fuji had never even considered the possibility that he was not.
--
The night before Seigaku meet St. Rudolph in the second round of the prefectural tournament, Fuji calls Yuuta. They talk about school and home and how their days were. They don't talk about tennis, but Fuji knows they're both thinking about it. All the things they avoid are building up inside Fuji and suddenly, he can't stand it anymore.
"What are you doing, Yuuta?" Fuji asks.
"Nothing. I'm in bed."
"Is your roommate there?"
"No, he's out in the common room."
"Yuuta?" Fuji's heart is pounding in his chest so hard it's almost painful. He usually thinks his ideas are pretty good, but this one has failed him before.
"What?"
"Do you ever think there are things you can say in the dark that you can't say normally?"
Yuuta is silent for a moment. Fuji doesn't say anything either. He can hear Yuuta breathing, a little faster than usual.
"Aniki," he says, voice tight.
"Do you?" Fuji persists.
"Like what?" Yuuta says, and Fuji exhales.
"Like if I told you right now that I missed you."
"Do you miss me?"
"Yes."
Yuuta is silent again. The distance between them feels thick and throbbing with tension. He imagines Yuuta lying in his own bed in his dorm room, thinking about what to say, what to do. Thinking about Fuji. Thinking about how he feels about Fuji. Thinking about last time. The silence stretches on to the point where Fuji doesn't know if Yuuta is even going to respond, if Yuuta somehow hung up without him noticing.
"I miss you too," Yuuta finally mumbles, and hangs up.
The tightness in his chest causes Fuji to realize he doesn't know if that's even what he wanted to hear.
--
The next day, Fuji wakes up well before his alarm and stares at the ceiling. Seigaku will play St. Rudolph in the tournament today. He gets up before anyone else is awake and goes outside to hit a tennis ball against the side of the house, an urge he can't remember having since he was young. He doesn't play tennis for himself.
"Practicing?" Yumiko asks when he returns inside to the smell of breakfast. "That's not like you."
"You can never be too prepared," Fuji says with a smile.
Yumiko drops him off at the courts. Fuji hasn't discussed Yuuta with Tezuka again, but he sees Fuji Syuusuke next to Fuji Yuuta in the Singles 3 slot and a thrill goes through him. It's the first time he's ever been nervous before a match. He asks Tezuka to warm him up because Tezuka is the only one who knows how scared he is and the only one who would never bring it up, and that's exactly what he needs. Fuji's not scared of losing; he's scared of winning, and what that will mean to Yuuta. But he can't hold back. After St. Rudolph lose the two doubles matches against Momo-Kaidoh and the Golden Pair, Fuji finally stands across the net from his little brother and spins his racket for the serve.
Fuji wins it and he immediately feels a pit form in his gut. It only grows larger when his first serve is a no-touch ace and it burns like acid until he takes the match, 6-1. Fuji gave Yuuta the game in a moment of weakness. He has improved vastly, but it's not enough. Fuji watches him storm off the court toward the locker room, ignoring Mizuki and all his teammates, and he follows before he can stop himself.
"Yuuta," he calls as he rounds the corner of the building. It's quieter on this side, hidden and away from the courts. No one is around.
"Go away," Yuuta says, but he stops. His voice is shaky. Fuji gives him a minute so that he can pretend he wasn't crying, then approaches him.
"Yuuta," he says, softer. Yuuta turns around to face him and Fuji wraps his fingers around Yuuta's forearm because he can.
"I will beat you one day," Yuuta says, sounding frustrated and small. And Fuji kisses him.
Afterwards, Fuji isn't able to remember very many specifics of what happened; he had been wanting it for too long to feel anything but sheer adrenaline while it was happening. He remembers that Yuuta didn't even try to push him away, just curled his hand around Fuji's neck so hard Fuji thought it might break, and kissed him back. He remembers that Yuuta groaned into his mouth when Fuji shoved his knee between Yuuta's thighs. He remembers how Yuuta felt, his entire body shaking against Fuji's as Fuji's hand slid down his shorts. He remembers that Yuuta said, "Aniki," and breathed a puff of hot air onto Fuji's neck.
Fuji calls his brother that night and for the first time ever, it goes straight to voicemail. Fuji could tell himself that Yuuta's battery died or that he's on the other line with someone else, but no matter how good he's gotten at fooling everyone else, he's never been able to fool himself. He goes to bed with this phone cradled against his chest and lies awake, wondering if he made a mistake. If it was worth it.
--
"Yuuta?"
"Mm?"
"Do you ever feel like there are things you can say in the dark that you can't say normally?" Fuji curls up on his side and clutches his pillow to his chest.
"Are you really in the dark right now?" Yuuta scoffs.
"Aren't you?" Fuji says. Yuuta doesn't reply. Fuji weighs his options for a moment, and then says, "I want to say something."
Silence.
"Yuuta," Fuji breathes, and he feels the air between them, the imaginary line connecting their phones, tense so suddenly it he thinks it might snap in half. "Do you know what I want to say?"
"Don't say it," Yuuta says immediately. "Aniki, don't."
"Do you think saying it out loud will make it more true?"
"I'm going to hang up," Yuuta says, but he doesn't. Fuji doesn't say it; he doesn't say anything. It feels like it's going to spew out of him any second, but it doesn't. It hovers in the air somewhere between them, heavy and silent, crushing Fuji's chest until he feels like he can't breathe. It shouldn't have to be this hard, Fuji knows, but that doesn't help at all.
"Yuuta, I-"
"Aniki," Yuuta cuts him off, and his voice cracks on the word. He coughs. "You can't call me anymore. Please don't call me anymore," he adds over the protest that dies in Fuji's throat.
For the first time ever, Fuji hangs up before Yuuta. He stares at his dark room, at nothing, and still, the words won't leave his mouth.
The next night, he doesn't call back.
--
Fuji wakes up in the morning with an unsettling sense of hopelessness. Yuuta doesn't answer that night, or the next. Sometimes his phone is on and sometimes it's off but Fuji gets accustomed to the artificial-sounding woman telling him to leave a message. He always hangs up before she's done.
After a couple weeks, Fuji stops trying and pointedly does not think about what happened. Sometimes when he crawls into bed and turns out the light his fingers physically ache to reach for the phone, but he forces himself not to. Sometimes he goes and sits in Yuuta's room, but never for long.
St. Rudolph was disqualified in the prefecturals after losing to Seigaku, but Mizuki and some of the others show up at the Kantou regionals to watch. Yuuta is not among them.
"Fuji-kun," Mizuki says smoothly, approaching him seemingly out of nowhere while Fuji stands with his team. "Might I interest you in-"
"How's Yuuta?" Fuji cuts him off. He's glad to note that he sounds as dismissive and unconcerned as always. His throat feels dry.
"He doesn't want to see you," Mizuki says, trying to sound equally unconcerned and failing. Fuji can picture him practicing in front of a mirror, making faces at himself that he thinks are cool. "You really messed something up, huh?"
"Tell him I said hi," Fuji says, and turns back to his team.
--
Seigaku wins the Kantou tournament and has a celebration party at Kawamura sushi late into the night; even though Kawamura isn't on the team anymore, he comes to watch as many matches as he can and always offers to host the parties. The room is loud and excited and as Fuji watches Momo reenact the dunk smash that won him his game, he forgets to feel maudlin.
He walks home with Tezuka after 2 a.m. and only then checks his phone. There's a text message from Yuuta and he almost stops in the middle of the sidewalk. Tezuka glances at his falter, but doesn't say anything.
Fuji saves it for when he's safe in the confines of his bedroom. The message says, "rematch tomorrow?" Fuji stares at it for a long time.
--
He's ten minutes early to the courts and Yuuta is already there, serving against the backboard. Fuji pulls out his racket and enters the half-court. Yuuta blasts one forward and Fuji does the same.
"Aniki," Yuuta says, turning to face him. Fuji serves again, then meets his eyes.
"Do you want to play?" Fuji asks.
"Not really," Yuuta says, and Fuji's glad.