fic - Alone Time
Title: Alone Time
Pairing: TezukaFuji
Rating: PG 13
Genre: a bit of fluff, a bit of humor
Wordcount: ~4,890
Warning: Spoilers and a lot of parentheses (I haven’t been using parentheses in a while)
Summary: Since his arrival from Kyushuu, Tezuka doesn’t seem to be able to get the alone time he deserves.
Disclaimer: Tezuka Kunimitsu is a property of Fuji Syusuke. Gone With the Wind is Margaret Mitchell's.
A/N: Super belated happy birthday, a1y-puff. A rather long fic written purely to entertain, which should have been posted a month ago. Geh. You know the epic tale of my PC. (Those who don’t… well, it died and wouldn’t let me finish this fic. It’s all good again now.)
Alone Time
The sun was prickling hot and the air was annoyingly sticky when Tezuka arrived in Tokyo from Kyushuu on a Sunday afternoon. Despite the day’s heat and his exhaustion, he decided to head straight to the venue where the first matches for the National tournament would be drawn. Heads turned when he entered the auditorium; some of the captains and vice-captains gave him a friendly welcome; some, mostly the ones he didn’t know, were more hostile (one even dared trip him); Oishi very characteristically exclaimed in a mixture of surprise, relief and excitement. After the matches were decided (Seigaku did not have an opponent for the first round of elimination), however, Tezuka did not linger in the auditorium to answer Oishi’s questions nor to respond to Atobe’s remarks. His head pounded painfully, and he craved rest and quiet, which his fellow tennis players could obviously not give him. Before he left, he had to force a promise from Oishi to keep his arrival a secret; the mere thought of his teammates’ calls and text messages already made his head crack in pain.
Unfortunately, hours later, as he sat on the edge of his bed, his luggage still unpacked because of the headache, he realized that there was no way his arrival could be kept secret. (True that Oishi could be trusted with secrets, but then Oishi told Kikumaru everything, and, in turn, Kikumaru told everyone else. Then there was Inui’s uncanny ability to acquire information and equally uncanny ability to share them.) Members of Seigaku tennis club flooded his phone with Welcome back, Captain! text messages; most of the regulars called him to tell him things he already knew; Atobe dared call to tell him that Hyoutei was going to make sure they would crush Seigaku when they get the chance to play against each other (and swore he was going to crush Tezuka fair and square now that Tezuka’s injury was healed); to his surprise, he even got a short message from Rikkaidai’s Yukimura saying I’m glad I’ll see you in the Nationals. He was never such a phone person (he only used it when absolutely necessary), and this headache made him even more curt. But out of politeness, he replied to all the text messages (effectively numbing his thumbs) and received the calls - albeit very briefly.
One message (it arrived a little after sundown, just when his mother was calling him for dinner), at least, was more welcome than the rest, and it eased his growing impatience after what felt like his 1098440th text and 15453th call. It was brief and not overly special, though, no emoticons, no overt expression of welcome: Dad arrived this morning, and he wants us to have a special dinner so I can’t call right now. But I promise to call later. Welcome back! Tezuka did not smile, but the lines on his forehead relaxed as he replied that he would wait for the call but the sender should not bother to call if his family arrived home too late (after all, sleep was important for tennis players). And, so uncharacteristically, he rambled on about Atobe’s warnings and Yukimura’s text.
Looking as though he never had a headache (really, if he had more drops of romantic blood in him, he would have confessed that a simple text relieved his headache), he went down to dinner. His mother served unacha, telling him with a knowing smile that she knew he missed his favorite food. He thanked his mother politely, and confessed to himself that he did miss her cooking; the rationed food in the university hospital, though a lot more palatable than most hospital food, just couldn’t compare with his mother’s cooking. After the meal, he excused himself and climbed up the stairs and went back to his room. He dropped to the swiveling chair behind a lacquered wooden desk and grabbed a classic novel that he hadn’t brought with him to Kyushuu (Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas) and attempted to read it. But he couldn’t keep still. He moved about, first crossing his left leg over the right. After reading a couple of pages, he uncrossed his legs and glanced at his phone, sighing dismally as if the phone were at fault for not ringing yet. Then he swung his right leg over his left, slouched at first but leaned forward after a minute and uncrossed his legs again.
When the phone finally rang, Tezuka immediately set the book aside and reached for his phone. “Hello,” he said so quickly that his eagerness could be easily mistaken for terseness.
“Tezuka, hello!”
Tezuka frowned when he thought he heard the wrong voice. He checked the name on the phone screen and sighed. “Oishi,” he said flatly.
“I thought I’d call to tell you what has been going on in Seigaku so we won’t have to discuss tomorrow,” Oishi explained, sounding as good-natured as usual.
“I think a written report would be better,” Tezuka said frankly. “Could you please write one for me? You may hand it in on Tuesday.”
“I already started one, actually, but there are things that can’t be explained in a paper so I’d rather discuss them now and Inui wanted me to talk to you about the training regime he proposed.”
“Very well,” Tezuka said in resignation. But as Oishi trailed on, Tezuka listened only with one ear because he already knew what Oishi was talking about, that Echizen had a secret match with Sanada, that Fuji nearly got blinded by Kirihara, etc. His fingers kept flipping the Count of Monte Cristo, and his eyes kept glancing at the wall clock, whose hands seemed to be moving slower than usual.
“That’s it, I think.” Tezuka suppressed a relieved sigh when he heard this an hour later. “I’ll hand in the report first thing in the morning. Good night!”
“Ah,” was all Tezuka said before dropping the phone.
Carrying the book to bed, Tezuka went on reading and waiting for the phone to ring. Some pages into the novel, however, his eyes started to droop. Twenty minutes later, his phone rang but he was already too deep in sleep to hear.
oOo
Dropping to the bench inside the clubroom, Tezuka unzipped his bag and took out a racket and a lime green ball. He tossed the ball into the air and swung his racket, making the ball hit the wall across him. It bounced off with a heavy thud, but just as Tezuka tried to catch it, a hand snatched it in mid-air. When he looked up, a sunny face greeted him with a smile.
“Missed tennis, haven’t you?”
Fuji sat left of Tezuka and threw the ball, catching it with his right hand. “How about a warm up game with me?”
Fixing Fuji a steady gaze, Tezuka nodded.
Fuji’s smile grew wider as he returned the ball to Tezuka. He let his hand stay curled against Tezuka’s for several seconds before taking it away and resting it on his knees. Still feeling the lingering heat of Fuji’s fingers against his, Tezuka tightened the grip on the ball.
“I called last night, but the line was busy. I tried calling again but no one answered,” Fuji said thoughtfully.
A faint line of annoyance crossed Tezuka’s forehead, but it disappeared almost immediately, hinting his resignation. “Oishi called. After that I read a book and…” he paused, pressing his lips, not quite wont to admit what happened. “I must have fallen asleep.”
At that, Fuji covered his lips and chuckled. “You fell asleep,” he remarked. His face was lit with amusement. When Tezuka glared at him, he chuckled even louder.
“I was tired,” Tezuka reasoned.
Fuji grinned and raised his hand to pat Tezuka’s kneecap. “I’ll just call tonight. You know, Dad just appeared yesterday without earlier notice and declared that he’ll be staying for a few days.”
Tezuka’s eyebrows quirked up. “No problems, I hope?”
“No,” Fuji said with a shake of his head. “He just had a business trip in Okinawa and decided to drop by to give us a pleasant surprise.” At this moment, Tezuka felt a warm, gentle touch on his forearm. “You have a busy day ahead of you.”
Tezuka shifted in his sear to meet Fuji’s eyes. “Yes, I do.”
Biting a teasing smile, Fuji bit his lower lip and nodded. “Of course you won’t get careless.” The slow, sultry manner in which he said the words made Tezuka’s breath hitch.
“I won’t,” Tezuka replied firmly. He started forward, tugging at Fuji’s elbow, pulling Fuji closer. His eyes shut in his anticipation, but flew open when Fuji pulled away.
In response to Tezuka’s unspoken question, Fuji said at the corner of his lips, “Someone’s coming.”
With the obvious effort of one who was trying not to lose patience, Tezuka exhaled loudly and composed himself.
“Good morning, Oishi,” Fuji said happily, waving a hand as the door opened and Oishi entered with a very purposeful air about him.
“Good morning,” Oishi said brightly. He occupied the space on Tezuka’s right side and pulled out a folder from his tennis bag. He flipped it open to check the contents through, and, satisfied, he finally gave it to Tezuka.
“Yes, thank you.” Tezuka opened the folder and started reading the report until a booming voice disrupted the silence and made him start.
“Tezuka!!!”
He did not have to look up to know that Kikumaru had just arrived, but he admitted that he hadn’t heard that voice for a long time that he was almost startled. Probably hearing Kikumaru’s exclamations, the other regulars came around almost instantly and jumped in, slapping his back and clapping his shoulders in welcome. Much to Tezuka’s chagrin, Fuji had moved to the corner of the room, well out of reach, and watched as the rest of their clubmates tried to suffocate him.
oOo
Tezuka had anticipated a huge amount of work upon his return in Seigaku. Unfortunately, he was not disappointed so that although the sad business of Oishi’s removal from the regular lineup was a blow to the team (to Kikumaru, especially), Tezuka could not help thinking that it spared him from a good deal of work as the usual ranking matches would no longer take place. It would save a lot of time and effort better directed on the actual training for the upcoming National Tournament.
That Monday afternoon after the deciding match between him and Oishi, he gathered the team for a meeting to discuss the training regime that Inui proposed earlier that day. Once the meeting was over, Tezuka walked up to Fuji, assuming they would walk home together as per usual. But Fuji shook his head with a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, Tezuka. Neesan is already here to pick me up. Dad wants to go out for dinner tonight. We’ll be picking Yuuta up from school too.”
Tezuka sighed, brooding on how he hardly saw Fuji today, not even at lunch break when the student council officers cordoned him off and informed him of the things that needed his attention. And at afternoon practice, whenever Fuji came up to him, Oishi or Inui or Ryuzaki-sensei had some important things to say. But he knew no one was to blame. Plus, Fuji’s family, so seldom complete, should take priority. Thus, he had no choice but to say “Enjoy dinner” when they parted at the gates where Yumiko’s red car waited.
When Tuesday came, Tezuka thought he would at least have more free time especially with most of the tennis club concerns already settled only to discover that there were things yet to be done for the student council. According to the vice president, the annual school fair was just a month away and they were admittedly short of time. They had to decide soon so that the engines for the preparation could start running. He thus inevitably (and somewhat unhappily) found himself in the council office just a little before sunset, irritated that he could feel sticky sweat at the back of his head since the student council meeting was set immediately after afternoon practice. After thirty minutes of deliberation, they have only reached two decisions out of the seven on the agenda written on the board that he felt compelled to excuse himself politely out of the room. When he pulled the door open, as expected, he spotted Fuji standing against the wall, his eyes fixed on a book until he heard Tezuka come up to him.
“Are you done?” Fuji asked expectantly, already snapping his book shut and preparing to stuff it into his bag, quite ready to leave.
Tezuka shook his head solemnly. “No. This will take a while. It would be better if you go home now before it gets too dark.”
Fuji nodded and shrugged his shoulders, raising his hand in salute. Tezuka watched his figure disappear before going back to the meeting.
An hour and a half later, Tezuka reached home just in time to join his family for dinner, which has been quiet more out of habit than anything else. When the dishes had been whisked away and the evening tea was served, the air relaxed a little and his grandfather asked how come he came home later than usual, and he had to explain that his absence made his work pile up so he had to catch up.
“How about your lessons? You shouldn’t let yourself fall behind,” his grandpa reminded sternly.
Tezuka set his tea cup on its saucer and shook his head. “Fuji helped me with that. He told me about the lessons while I was in Kyushuu so I could study on my own.”
His father raised his head. “But aren’t you in different classes?”
“We have nearly the same set of teachers and he asked my classmates for the subjects where we have different teachers.”
“How kind of Fuji-kun to do that,” his mother said so amiably that Tezuka had to muster a lot of self-control to avoid flinching guiltily in his seat. “Why don’t you invite him to dine with us tomorrow?”
“I don’t think that would be possible at the moment. His father just arrived in Japan,” he explained briefly.
“Oh, he is the one with father who works abroad, isn’t he?” His mother asked with a thoughtful frown. “Well, we can invite him some other time so make sure to ask what food he likes best so I can prepare it for him,” she said affably.
Promising he would, Tezuka drank the rest of his tea and excused himself. As he climbed upstairs, he thought he hardly needed to ask because he knew exactly what Fuji liked: seafood ramen with generous amounts of wasabi (‘generous’ being the operative word).
As was his habit, he took a quick shower before changing into sleepwear. He was in the middle of pulling up a pair of pajama bottoms when he heard the muffled ring of his phone that he more or less scrambled out of the bathroom to pick up the call while tugging his pajamas up to his waist. But, to spare himself from the embarrassment of ever mistaking the caller (Oishi’s call on Sunday played vividly in mind) and to make sure he hadn’t really lost dignity by scrambling out of his bathroom for the wrong person, he checked the name that flashed on the screen. Thankfully, it showed ‘Fuji Syusuke.’
“Hello,” he said, forcing calm but his voice gave him away as it had that pleasant ring only a few people could distinguish.
“Hello,” Fuji said with a small laugh.
For some odd reason, Tezuka could make out a garbled sound of music and someone screeching with it, probably in an attempt to sing. “Where are you?”
“We’re having a karaoke party. And that’s neesan singing. She sounds rather drunk, doesn’t she? But she’s perfectly sober.”
Tezuka heard a faint “I’m gifted with the Eye, not the Voice, Syusuke, so be quiet or I’ll tell on you” that he couldn’t help smiling. “Should you be calling me then?” he asked. “They might -“
“I’m bored,” Fuji said and Tezuka pictured him waving an uncaring hand. “I already called Eiji, but he had to go and cook dinner so I decided to call you.” Fuji grinned. “And Yuuta asked if I was sure I wouldn’t get bored talking to you.”
Sighing, Tezuka asked, “What did you tell him then?”
“I told him that I can always amuse myself with a soliloquy.” When Tezuka did not answer, Fuji laughed. “Anyway, what time did your meeting end?”
“A little past seven,” Tezuka replied. “But at least we’ve settled all the important matters. By the way, Mom wants you to have dinner with us some time. She wanted me to ask what your favorite food is.”
“Hmm… that’s nice of her. But don’t you know my favorite food?” Fuji paused. “Unless -“
Tezuka heard a deep voice call, “Syusuke, your turn.”
“But isn’t it your turn, Dad? I thought you liked this song.” He heard Fuji’s familiar voice reply. And then the deep voice called again, “I insist, Syusuke.”
“Well, you heard that. I have to go now,” Fuji said, sighing heavily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow then,” Tezuka said quietly, and the only thing he could hear was the tut-tut of the busy line. He plopped to the edge of his bed, making the springs creak with his weight. He pulled one of his notebooks from his bag and tried to read the lessons for the day. After ten minutes of attempt, however, none of the sines and cosines and tangents could enter his head. Giving up, he set the notebook aside and grumbled to himself that the conversation hadn’t even lasted ten minutes.
oOo
“Would you believe how random Dad is? He woke us all up at four and told us that we should go to Chiba.”
Tezuka looked at Fuji from behind his locker door. He would and did in fact believe how random Fuji’s father was. Randomness and spur-of-the-moment antics ran in the Fuji family. But he didn’t say so because it was rude. Besides, Fuji didn’t need to be told what he already knew. “Why didn’t you go?” he asked instead.
After sticking his head inside his locker, probably looking for a misplaced notebook, Fuji reappeared and smiled widely at Tezuka. “I thought our Captain wouldn’t want me disappearing for a few days of vacation when I’m supposed to be getting ready for the Nationals.” He ducked inside his locker again and said “Ah! Here it is,” before turning back to Tezuka. “Don’t you think so?” Fuji’s smile, Tezuka observed, was loaded with meaning. “Do you think you’ll be allowed to stay over tonight? Tell your parents that I need company?”
Shutting his locker, Tezuka leaned sideways against it and paused to consider. “I’m not sure. Mom might want to invite you over instead.”
Fuji shut his locker too. “Tell her I can’t leave the house unattended. I’ll call her and promise that I’ll come for dinner when Dad leaves.”
“Fujiko, is it true? Is it true that you’ll be alone at home tonight?”
Fuji and Tezuka exchanged alarmed glances. They had both thought they were completely alone in the clubroom. Plastering his trademark smile on his lips, Fuji turned to Kikumaru who seemed oblivious to the anxiety he just stirred. “Yes,” Fuji said. “Everyone’s in Chiba right now.”
“And you’re inviting Tezuka over?” Kikumaru asked, his eyes widening in disbelief. “That would be boring.”
From the corner of his eyes, Tezuka saw Fuji hide a snicker.
“Why don’t we all go?” Kikumaru suggested helpfully. “We’ll bring food. I’ll cook too.”
Tezuka pursed his lips. Fuji did so too, in a forced smiling way. Kikumaru looked like he was not going to take no for an answer and if Fuji tried, Kikumaru would demand an explanation. Fuji could do nothing but agree. “Well, why not?” he said, turning to Tezuka with raised brows. “We can make it a welcome back party for Tezuka, can’t we?”
“Yes, yes!” Kikumaru cheered. “I’ll tell everyone.” Before Fuji could even respond, the redhead had bounced away to spread the news.
Fuji caught Tezuka’s eyes and he pressed his lips into an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
Crossing his arms, Tezuka heaved a sigh. “You had no choice.”
The rest of the day went on as training days usually did, except that Kikumaru had to practice playing singles. Before leaving school with his teammates, Tezuka told his Mom that he’d be staying over at Fuji’s, that she was not to worry, that Fuji promised to dine with them soon, and that yes, of course he had a spare set of clothes (he always brought extra sets of clothes and toiletries). They first dropped by the supermarket to buy the ingredients Kikumaru said he would need for cooking (they were having toridon and shrimp tempura tonight). Somehow, though, potato chips and Pocky and soda and ice cream kept being thrown into the shopping cart.
“No, Inui, you’re not allowed to choose,” Kikumaru said bossily. He swatted Inui’s hand and pushed the cart away from Inui.
Fuji, who had been vehemently told earlier not to add anything to the cart (Tezuka thought this wouldn’t be effective, though, because they were going to use Fuji’s kitchen), had obediently fallen back and ambled alongside Tezuka. “Oishi’s motherly ways are rubbing off on Eiji,” he whispered.
“He’s just trying to keep the food edible,” Tezuka said frankly.
“So you think Inui’s food isn’t edible?”
Tezuka ignored the question and walked briskly forward, seeing that the rest of the team was already a long way down the aisle.
They reached the Fuji residence at around seven. Kikumaru started cooking at once with Oishi and Taka-san’s help while Momoshiro and Echizen watched and waited impatiently in the kitchen. Kaidoh had been tasked to keep Inui away from the kitchen so they had been left at the dining table, preparing the utensils with Tezuka and Fuji.
Food was served minutes later. It was eaten in general silence (save for Echizen and Momoshiro fighting over the last piece of tempura, which Fuji offered to Tezuka in the end) because everyone was admittedly too hungry for small talk. When everyone was full (but not full enough to say no to ice cream), Fuji rose and started serving the vanilla ice cream into small bowls.
“Tezuka, how far do you think Fudoumine will be able to reach in the Nationals?” Inui asked, spooning himself some ice cream. “Tezuka? Tezuka?”
Tezuka blinked and realized he had been watching Fuji lick the dripping chocolate syrup on his fingertips. “I’m sorry?” he asked distractedly.
“I was asking how far you think Fudoumine will reach in the Nationals,” Inui stated.
“Tezuka is distracted,” Kikumaru said pointedly. He scooted close to Tezuka to observe the latter closely. “Did you leave a girlfriend in Kyushuu?”
Frowning at Kikumaru, obviously disconcerted, Tezuka immediately said, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“But you were staring,” Kikumaru accused.
“My mind slipped away,” Tezuka said tartly.
“Tezuka Kunimitsu zoned out!” Fuji said cheerfully. “Make sure you add that in your data, Inui.”
“Actually,” Inui said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “In the past few days, I’ve recorded Tezuka staring off.”
“SEE?” Kikumaru ogled at Tezuka. “What’s the girl like?”
Irritated, Tezuka turned away from Kikumaru. “There’s no girl.”
“Ah, Captain is so secretive,” said Momoshiro as he helped himself to another bowl of the ice cream. “Fuji-senpai, you know all his secrets. Does he have a girlfriend?”
Fuji beamed from ear to ear and crinkled his eyes pensively. Naturally, it stirred an air of intrigue among their teammates. Oishi looked away. He felt embarrassedly guilty of wanting to know if Tezuka did have a girlfriend. Even Kaidoh was blushing slightly. Only Echizen seemed uncaring. He simply ate bowl after bowl of ice cream.
“Fuji, you know, don’t you?” Kikumaru asked, turning delightedly to Fuji. “What’s she like? Did Tezuka tell you?”
“I don’t know any girl,” Fuji said with a teasing smile.
“But you’re smiling!” Momoshiro argued.
“I’m always smiling,” Fuji said calmly.
“Did Tezuka bribe you with a gallon of wasabi ice cream to keep it secret?” Inui asked matter-of-factly.
Fuji tilted his head. Judging by his smile, Tezuka knew that he was enjoying himself. “That’s certainly a good material for bribery, isn’t it, Tezuka?” When Tezuka glared, Fuji chuckled. “There is no girl, I think. Unless…” he raised a brow at Tezuka, “Tezuka is yet to tell me about one?”
Tezuka was sure he was the only one who caught the dangerous edge on Fuji's voice. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said. His voice sounded direct and dismissive. “Now, please finish your food and go to bed. We have morning practice tomorrow.”
“Tezuka is no fun,” Kikumaru whined, finishing his ice cream.
After the dishes were washed, they all climbed upstairs and changed into sleeping clothes. In Fuji's room, they rolled out futons on the floor, where Kikumaru, Oishi, Inui, Kaidoh and Momoshiro slept. Because Tezuka was captain, he was given the luxury of using Fuji's bed (in truth, however, everyone simply didn’t like the idea of lying beside Tezuka; it felt wrong somehow). Using this to his advantage, Fuji started creeping to his own bed until he heard Echizen say, “Move over, Captain” and the familiar creaking sound of his bed.
Fuji shrugged at Tezuka and dropped to the futon beside Kikumaru.
An hour later, nearly everyone was asleep (Tezuka thought he heard someone snore and he was sure he heard Echizen mumble “Karupin, Karupin, over here”), Tezuka heard ruffling blankets. In the dim light of Fuji's Turkish lamps, he could make out Fuji's figure walking to the door. The door opened slightly and Fuji slipped out of the room.
Careful not to wake Echizen (who was, yes, still mumbling “Karupin”), Tezuka sat up and treaded cautiously to follow Fuji.
“Apple juice?” Fuji asked when they reached the kitchen. He opened the fridge and brought out a box of apple juice. He took two glasses from a cupboard, brought everything to the counter and started pouring. He heard Tezuka's steps approach and then he felt arms wrap around his waist. He felt kisses on his neck and shoulders. Shutting his eyes, he tilted his head and welcomed the familiar sensation of Tezuka's breath on his neck, of Tezuka's lips on his skin.
Fuji only just half-filled a glass with juice when he turned around to meet Tezuka's lips with his own. They kissed for several minutes, stopping only to gasp for air. Tezuka's hands slipped under Fuji's pajama top, caressing every inch of skin. Fuji's fingers dug into Tezuka's hair, pressing Tezuka toward him, urging Tezuka to deepen every kiss.
When they finally broke up, Tezuka's hands were still holding Fuji's waist. They both heaved sharp intakes of breath, feeling hot and flushed.
“Someone might come down,” Fuji whispered, ruffling Tezuka's hair.
“I know,” Tezuka replied. He sighed deeply and let go of Fuji.
Fuji grinned. “You owe me a pint of wasabi ice cream for this.”
Tezuka frowned. “For what?”
“For keeping your secret,” Fuji said slyly.
“It’s your secret too,” Tezuka reminded tersely.
Laughing, Fuji got back to filling the glasses. “I can’t sleep. Want to watch a movie?”
“What movie?” Tezuka asked, taking the glass that Fuji was handing and taking a sip of the juice.
“Gone With the Wind?” Fuji suggested, taking a sip of juice from his own glass. “Have you seen it? I suddenly feel like watching it again.”
“I’ve seen it,” Tezuka answered, following Fuji towards the living room. “But I don’t mind watching it again.”
Fuji knelt down the tiled floor, in front of the rack of CDs and DVDs and pulled one out. He turned the TV on, popped the DVD into the player and sat on the sofa where Tezuka already sat. “You’ve finished the book, right?”
“Yes.”
“Have you read the sequel, though?” Fuji asked. He lay across the sofa so that his head rested on Tezuka's lap and his legs dangled on the arm of the sofa. When Tezuka shook his head, he continued, “I think the original one’s better. It has a better ending.” He lowered his voice and said, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
A smile tugging at his lips, Tezuka cast his attention on the film’s opening credits.
The movie has started showing Scarlett O’Hara and her first encounter with Rhett Butler when Fuji said, “Tezuka?”
Tezuka looked at Fuji whose eyes were still on the TV. “Hn?”
“Stay over tomorrow night.” A small but genuine smile graced Fuji’s lips. In an amused whisper, he added, “We don’t have to invite them again. And we can buy my wasabi ice cream.”
“Just promise Mom you’ll have dinner with us soon.”
“That means you’ll buy wasabi ice cream for me.” Tezuka glowered but didn’t voice his disagreement. Fuji chuckled. “I’ll even promise her that I’ll stay the night.”
Shaking his head, but not genuinely displeased, Tezuka nodded and watched the movie again. He would have liked to spend the night with Fuji without the fear of being interrupted. But he found that he enjoyed and missed this too, just sitting, watching a movie with Fuji and discussing things they both liked, even disagreeing on mundane things.
He sat back, a hand resting on Fuji's arm as they watched. He could content himself with this, he considered. In the meantime anyway. Tomorrow night was another matter entirely.
The End.
A/N: Told you, long and pointless fluff. Comments will be loved! Pray that I be less lazy and be able to update something soon.
Pairing: TezukaFuji
Rating: PG 13
Genre: a bit of fluff, a bit of humor
Wordcount: ~4,890
Warning: Spoilers and a lot of parentheses (I haven’t been using parentheses in a while)
Summary: Since his arrival from Kyushuu, Tezuka doesn’t seem to be able to get the alone time he deserves.
Disclaimer: Tezuka Kunimitsu is a property of Fuji Syusuke. Gone With the Wind is Margaret Mitchell's.
A/N: Super belated happy birthday, a1y-puff. A rather long fic written purely to entertain, which should have been posted a month ago. Geh. You know the epic tale of my PC. (Those who don’t… well, it died and wouldn’t let me finish this fic. It’s all good again now.)
Alone Time
The sun was prickling hot and the air was annoyingly sticky when Tezuka arrived in Tokyo from Kyushuu on a Sunday afternoon. Despite the day’s heat and his exhaustion, he decided to head straight to the venue where the first matches for the National tournament would be drawn. Heads turned when he entered the auditorium; some of the captains and vice-captains gave him a friendly welcome; some, mostly the ones he didn’t know, were more hostile (one even dared trip him); Oishi very characteristically exclaimed in a mixture of surprise, relief and excitement. After the matches were decided (Seigaku did not have an opponent for the first round of elimination), however, Tezuka did not linger in the auditorium to answer Oishi’s questions nor to respond to Atobe’s remarks. His head pounded painfully, and he craved rest and quiet, which his fellow tennis players could obviously not give him. Before he left, he had to force a promise from Oishi to keep his arrival a secret; the mere thought of his teammates’ calls and text messages already made his head crack in pain.
Unfortunately, hours later, as he sat on the edge of his bed, his luggage still unpacked because of the headache, he realized that there was no way his arrival could be kept secret. (True that Oishi could be trusted with secrets, but then Oishi told Kikumaru everything, and, in turn, Kikumaru told everyone else. Then there was Inui’s uncanny ability to acquire information and equally uncanny ability to share them.) Members of Seigaku tennis club flooded his phone with Welcome back, Captain! text messages; most of the regulars called him to tell him things he already knew; Atobe dared call to tell him that Hyoutei was going to make sure they would crush Seigaku when they get the chance to play against each other (and swore he was going to crush Tezuka fair and square now that Tezuka’s injury was healed); to his surprise, he even got a short message from Rikkaidai’s Yukimura saying I’m glad I’ll see you in the Nationals. He was never such a phone person (he only used it when absolutely necessary), and this headache made him even more curt. But out of politeness, he replied to all the text messages (effectively numbing his thumbs) and received the calls - albeit very briefly.
One message (it arrived a little after sundown, just when his mother was calling him for dinner), at least, was more welcome than the rest, and it eased his growing impatience after what felt like his 1098440th text and 15453th call. It was brief and not overly special, though, no emoticons, no overt expression of welcome: Dad arrived this morning, and he wants us to have a special dinner so I can’t call right now. But I promise to call later. Welcome back! Tezuka did not smile, but the lines on his forehead relaxed as he replied that he would wait for the call but the sender should not bother to call if his family arrived home too late (after all, sleep was important for tennis players). And, so uncharacteristically, he rambled on about Atobe’s warnings and Yukimura’s text.
Looking as though he never had a headache (really, if he had more drops of romantic blood in him, he would have confessed that a simple text relieved his headache), he went down to dinner. His mother served unacha, telling him with a knowing smile that she knew he missed his favorite food. He thanked his mother politely, and confessed to himself that he did miss her cooking; the rationed food in the university hospital, though a lot more palatable than most hospital food, just couldn’t compare with his mother’s cooking. After the meal, he excused himself and climbed up the stairs and went back to his room. He dropped to the swiveling chair behind a lacquered wooden desk and grabbed a classic novel that he hadn’t brought with him to Kyushuu (Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas) and attempted to read it. But he couldn’t keep still. He moved about, first crossing his left leg over the right. After reading a couple of pages, he uncrossed his legs and glanced at his phone, sighing dismally as if the phone were at fault for not ringing yet. Then he swung his right leg over his left, slouched at first but leaned forward after a minute and uncrossed his legs again.
When the phone finally rang, Tezuka immediately set the book aside and reached for his phone. “Hello,” he said so quickly that his eagerness could be easily mistaken for terseness.
“Tezuka, hello!”
Tezuka frowned when he thought he heard the wrong voice. He checked the name on the phone screen and sighed. “Oishi,” he said flatly.
“I thought I’d call to tell you what has been going on in Seigaku so we won’t have to discuss tomorrow,” Oishi explained, sounding as good-natured as usual.
“I think a written report would be better,” Tezuka said frankly. “Could you please write one for me? You may hand it in on Tuesday.”
“I already started one, actually, but there are things that can’t be explained in a paper so I’d rather discuss them now and Inui wanted me to talk to you about the training regime he proposed.”
“Very well,” Tezuka said in resignation. But as Oishi trailed on, Tezuka listened only with one ear because he already knew what Oishi was talking about, that Echizen had a secret match with Sanada, that Fuji nearly got blinded by Kirihara, etc. His fingers kept flipping the Count of Monte Cristo, and his eyes kept glancing at the wall clock, whose hands seemed to be moving slower than usual.
“That’s it, I think.” Tezuka suppressed a relieved sigh when he heard this an hour later. “I’ll hand in the report first thing in the morning. Good night!”
“Ah,” was all Tezuka said before dropping the phone.
Carrying the book to bed, Tezuka went on reading and waiting for the phone to ring. Some pages into the novel, however, his eyes started to droop. Twenty minutes later, his phone rang but he was already too deep in sleep to hear.
oOo
Dropping to the bench inside the clubroom, Tezuka unzipped his bag and took out a racket and a lime green ball. He tossed the ball into the air and swung his racket, making the ball hit the wall across him. It bounced off with a heavy thud, but just as Tezuka tried to catch it, a hand snatched it in mid-air. When he looked up, a sunny face greeted him with a smile.
“Missed tennis, haven’t you?”
Fuji sat left of Tezuka and threw the ball, catching it with his right hand. “How about a warm up game with me?”
Fixing Fuji a steady gaze, Tezuka nodded.
Fuji’s smile grew wider as he returned the ball to Tezuka. He let his hand stay curled against Tezuka’s for several seconds before taking it away and resting it on his knees. Still feeling the lingering heat of Fuji’s fingers against his, Tezuka tightened the grip on the ball.
“I called last night, but the line was busy. I tried calling again but no one answered,” Fuji said thoughtfully.
A faint line of annoyance crossed Tezuka’s forehead, but it disappeared almost immediately, hinting his resignation. “Oishi called. After that I read a book and…” he paused, pressing his lips, not quite wont to admit what happened. “I must have fallen asleep.”
At that, Fuji covered his lips and chuckled. “You fell asleep,” he remarked. His face was lit with amusement. When Tezuka glared at him, he chuckled even louder.
“I was tired,” Tezuka reasoned.
Fuji grinned and raised his hand to pat Tezuka’s kneecap. “I’ll just call tonight. You know, Dad just appeared yesterday without earlier notice and declared that he’ll be staying for a few days.”
Tezuka’s eyebrows quirked up. “No problems, I hope?”
“No,” Fuji said with a shake of his head. “He just had a business trip in Okinawa and decided to drop by to give us a pleasant surprise.” At this moment, Tezuka felt a warm, gentle touch on his forearm. “You have a busy day ahead of you.”
Tezuka shifted in his sear to meet Fuji’s eyes. “Yes, I do.”
Biting a teasing smile, Fuji bit his lower lip and nodded. “Of course you won’t get careless.” The slow, sultry manner in which he said the words made Tezuka’s breath hitch.
“I won’t,” Tezuka replied firmly. He started forward, tugging at Fuji’s elbow, pulling Fuji closer. His eyes shut in his anticipation, but flew open when Fuji pulled away.
In response to Tezuka’s unspoken question, Fuji said at the corner of his lips, “Someone’s coming.”
With the obvious effort of one who was trying not to lose patience, Tezuka exhaled loudly and composed himself.
“Good morning, Oishi,” Fuji said happily, waving a hand as the door opened and Oishi entered with a very purposeful air about him.
“Good morning,” Oishi said brightly. He occupied the space on Tezuka’s right side and pulled out a folder from his tennis bag. He flipped it open to check the contents through, and, satisfied, he finally gave it to Tezuka.
“Yes, thank you.” Tezuka opened the folder and started reading the report until a booming voice disrupted the silence and made him start.
“Tezuka!!!”
He did not have to look up to know that Kikumaru had just arrived, but he admitted that he hadn’t heard that voice for a long time that he was almost startled. Probably hearing Kikumaru’s exclamations, the other regulars came around almost instantly and jumped in, slapping his back and clapping his shoulders in welcome. Much to Tezuka’s chagrin, Fuji had moved to the corner of the room, well out of reach, and watched as the rest of their clubmates tried to suffocate him.
oOo
Tezuka had anticipated a huge amount of work upon his return in Seigaku. Unfortunately, he was not disappointed so that although the sad business of Oishi’s removal from the regular lineup was a blow to the team (to Kikumaru, especially), Tezuka could not help thinking that it spared him from a good deal of work as the usual ranking matches would no longer take place. It would save a lot of time and effort better directed on the actual training for the upcoming National Tournament.
That Monday afternoon after the deciding match between him and Oishi, he gathered the team for a meeting to discuss the training regime that Inui proposed earlier that day. Once the meeting was over, Tezuka walked up to Fuji, assuming they would walk home together as per usual. But Fuji shook his head with a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry, Tezuka. Neesan is already here to pick me up. Dad wants to go out for dinner tonight. We’ll be picking Yuuta up from school too.”
Tezuka sighed, brooding on how he hardly saw Fuji today, not even at lunch break when the student council officers cordoned him off and informed him of the things that needed his attention. And at afternoon practice, whenever Fuji came up to him, Oishi or Inui or Ryuzaki-sensei had some important things to say. But he knew no one was to blame. Plus, Fuji’s family, so seldom complete, should take priority. Thus, he had no choice but to say “Enjoy dinner” when they parted at the gates where Yumiko’s red car waited.
When Tuesday came, Tezuka thought he would at least have more free time especially with most of the tennis club concerns already settled only to discover that there were things yet to be done for the student council. According to the vice president, the annual school fair was just a month away and they were admittedly short of time. They had to decide soon so that the engines for the preparation could start running. He thus inevitably (and somewhat unhappily) found himself in the council office just a little before sunset, irritated that he could feel sticky sweat at the back of his head since the student council meeting was set immediately after afternoon practice. After thirty minutes of deliberation, they have only reached two decisions out of the seven on the agenda written on the board that he felt compelled to excuse himself politely out of the room. When he pulled the door open, as expected, he spotted Fuji standing against the wall, his eyes fixed on a book until he heard Tezuka come up to him.
“Are you done?” Fuji asked expectantly, already snapping his book shut and preparing to stuff it into his bag, quite ready to leave.
Tezuka shook his head solemnly. “No. This will take a while. It would be better if you go home now before it gets too dark.”
Fuji nodded and shrugged his shoulders, raising his hand in salute. Tezuka watched his figure disappear before going back to the meeting.
An hour and a half later, Tezuka reached home just in time to join his family for dinner, which has been quiet more out of habit than anything else. When the dishes had been whisked away and the evening tea was served, the air relaxed a little and his grandfather asked how come he came home later than usual, and he had to explain that his absence made his work pile up so he had to catch up.
“How about your lessons? You shouldn’t let yourself fall behind,” his grandpa reminded sternly.
Tezuka set his tea cup on its saucer and shook his head. “Fuji helped me with that. He told me about the lessons while I was in Kyushuu so I could study on my own.”
His father raised his head. “But aren’t you in different classes?”
“We have nearly the same set of teachers and he asked my classmates for the subjects where we have different teachers.”
“How kind of Fuji-kun to do that,” his mother said so amiably that Tezuka had to muster a lot of self-control to avoid flinching guiltily in his seat. “Why don’t you invite him to dine with us tomorrow?”
“I don’t think that would be possible at the moment. His father just arrived in Japan,” he explained briefly.
“Oh, he is the one with father who works abroad, isn’t he?” His mother asked with a thoughtful frown. “Well, we can invite him some other time so make sure to ask what food he likes best so I can prepare it for him,” she said affably.
Promising he would, Tezuka drank the rest of his tea and excused himself. As he climbed upstairs, he thought he hardly needed to ask because he knew exactly what Fuji liked: seafood ramen with generous amounts of wasabi (‘generous’ being the operative word).
As was his habit, he took a quick shower before changing into sleepwear. He was in the middle of pulling up a pair of pajama bottoms when he heard the muffled ring of his phone that he more or less scrambled out of the bathroom to pick up the call while tugging his pajamas up to his waist. But, to spare himself from the embarrassment of ever mistaking the caller (Oishi’s call on Sunday played vividly in mind) and to make sure he hadn’t really lost dignity by scrambling out of his bathroom for the wrong person, he checked the name that flashed on the screen. Thankfully, it showed ‘Fuji Syusuke.’
“Hello,” he said, forcing calm but his voice gave him away as it had that pleasant ring only a few people could distinguish.
“Hello,” Fuji said with a small laugh.
For some odd reason, Tezuka could make out a garbled sound of music and someone screeching with it, probably in an attempt to sing. “Where are you?”
“We’re having a karaoke party. And that’s neesan singing. She sounds rather drunk, doesn’t she? But she’s perfectly sober.”
Tezuka heard a faint “I’m gifted with the Eye, not the Voice, Syusuke, so be quiet or I’ll tell on you” that he couldn’t help smiling. “Should you be calling me then?” he asked. “They might -“
“I’m bored,” Fuji said and Tezuka pictured him waving an uncaring hand. “I already called Eiji, but he had to go and cook dinner so I decided to call you.” Fuji grinned. “And Yuuta asked if I was sure I wouldn’t get bored talking to you.”
Sighing, Tezuka asked, “What did you tell him then?”
“I told him that I can always amuse myself with a soliloquy.” When Tezuka did not answer, Fuji laughed. “Anyway, what time did your meeting end?”
“A little past seven,” Tezuka replied. “But at least we’ve settled all the important matters. By the way, Mom wants you to have dinner with us some time. She wanted me to ask what your favorite food is.”
“Hmm… that’s nice of her. But don’t you know my favorite food?” Fuji paused. “Unless -“
Tezuka heard a deep voice call, “Syusuke, your turn.”
“But isn’t it your turn, Dad? I thought you liked this song.” He heard Fuji’s familiar voice reply. And then the deep voice called again, “I insist, Syusuke.”
“Well, you heard that. I have to go now,” Fuji said, sighing heavily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow then,” Tezuka said quietly, and the only thing he could hear was the tut-tut of the busy line. He plopped to the edge of his bed, making the springs creak with his weight. He pulled one of his notebooks from his bag and tried to read the lessons for the day. After ten minutes of attempt, however, none of the sines and cosines and tangents could enter his head. Giving up, he set the notebook aside and grumbled to himself that the conversation hadn’t even lasted ten minutes.
oOo
“Would you believe how random Dad is? He woke us all up at four and told us that we should go to Chiba.”
Tezuka looked at Fuji from behind his locker door. He would and did in fact believe how random Fuji’s father was. Randomness and spur-of-the-moment antics ran in the Fuji family. But he didn’t say so because it was rude. Besides, Fuji didn’t need to be told what he already knew. “Why didn’t you go?” he asked instead.
After sticking his head inside his locker, probably looking for a misplaced notebook, Fuji reappeared and smiled widely at Tezuka. “I thought our Captain wouldn’t want me disappearing for a few days of vacation when I’m supposed to be getting ready for the Nationals.” He ducked inside his locker again and said “Ah! Here it is,” before turning back to Tezuka. “Don’t you think so?” Fuji’s smile, Tezuka observed, was loaded with meaning. “Do you think you’ll be allowed to stay over tonight? Tell your parents that I need company?”
Shutting his locker, Tezuka leaned sideways against it and paused to consider. “I’m not sure. Mom might want to invite you over instead.”
Fuji shut his locker too. “Tell her I can’t leave the house unattended. I’ll call her and promise that I’ll come for dinner when Dad leaves.”
“Fujiko, is it true? Is it true that you’ll be alone at home tonight?”
Fuji and Tezuka exchanged alarmed glances. They had both thought they were completely alone in the clubroom. Plastering his trademark smile on his lips, Fuji turned to Kikumaru who seemed oblivious to the anxiety he just stirred. “Yes,” Fuji said. “Everyone’s in Chiba right now.”
“And you’re inviting Tezuka over?” Kikumaru asked, his eyes widening in disbelief. “That would be boring.”
From the corner of his eyes, Tezuka saw Fuji hide a snicker.
“Why don’t we all go?” Kikumaru suggested helpfully. “We’ll bring food. I’ll cook too.”
Tezuka pursed his lips. Fuji did so too, in a forced smiling way. Kikumaru looked like he was not going to take no for an answer and if Fuji tried, Kikumaru would demand an explanation. Fuji could do nothing but agree. “Well, why not?” he said, turning to Tezuka with raised brows. “We can make it a welcome back party for Tezuka, can’t we?”
“Yes, yes!” Kikumaru cheered. “I’ll tell everyone.” Before Fuji could even respond, the redhead had bounced away to spread the news.
Fuji caught Tezuka’s eyes and he pressed his lips into an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
Crossing his arms, Tezuka heaved a sigh. “You had no choice.”
The rest of the day went on as training days usually did, except that Kikumaru had to practice playing singles. Before leaving school with his teammates, Tezuka told his Mom that he’d be staying over at Fuji’s, that she was not to worry, that Fuji promised to dine with them soon, and that yes, of course he had a spare set of clothes (he always brought extra sets of clothes and toiletries). They first dropped by the supermarket to buy the ingredients Kikumaru said he would need for cooking (they were having toridon and shrimp tempura tonight). Somehow, though, potato chips and Pocky and soda and ice cream kept being thrown into the shopping cart.
“No, Inui, you’re not allowed to choose,” Kikumaru said bossily. He swatted Inui’s hand and pushed the cart away from Inui.
Fuji, who had been vehemently told earlier not to add anything to the cart (Tezuka thought this wouldn’t be effective, though, because they were going to use Fuji’s kitchen), had obediently fallen back and ambled alongside Tezuka. “Oishi’s motherly ways are rubbing off on Eiji,” he whispered.
“He’s just trying to keep the food edible,” Tezuka said frankly.
“So you think Inui’s food isn’t edible?”
Tezuka ignored the question and walked briskly forward, seeing that the rest of the team was already a long way down the aisle.
They reached the Fuji residence at around seven. Kikumaru started cooking at once with Oishi and Taka-san’s help while Momoshiro and Echizen watched and waited impatiently in the kitchen. Kaidoh had been tasked to keep Inui away from the kitchen so they had been left at the dining table, preparing the utensils with Tezuka and Fuji.
Food was served minutes later. It was eaten in general silence (save for Echizen and Momoshiro fighting over the last piece of tempura, which Fuji offered to Tezuka in the end) because everyone was admittedly too hungry for small talk. When everyone was full (but not full enough to say no to ice cream), Fuji rose and started serving the vanilla ice cream into small bowls.
“Tezuka, how far do you think Fudoumine will be able to reach in the Nationals?” Inui asked, spooning himself some ice cream. “Tezuka? Tezuka?”
Tezuka blinked and realized he had been watching Fuji lick the dripping chocolate syrup on his fingertips. “I’m sorry?” he asked distractedly.
“I was asking how far you think Fudoumine will reach in the Nationals,” Inui stated.
“Tezuka is distracted,” Kikumaru said pointedly. He scooted close to Tezuka to observe the latter closely. “Did you leave a girlfriend in Kyushuu?”
Frowning at Kikumaru, obviously disconcerted, Tezuka immediately said, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“But you were staring,” Kikumaru accused.
“My mind slipped away,” Tezuka said tartly.
“Tezuka Kunimitsu zoned out!” Fuji said cheerfully. “Make sure you add that in your data, Inui.”
“Actually,” Inui said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “In the past few days, I’ve recorded Tezuka staring off.”
“SEE?” Kikumaru ogled at Tezuka. “What’s the girl like?”
Irritated, Tezuka turned away from Kikumaru. “There’s no girl.”
“Ah, Captain is so secretive,” said Momoshiro as he helped himself to another bowl of the ice cream. “Fuji-senpai, you know all his secrets. Does he have a girlfriend?”
Fuji beamed from ear to ear and crinkled his eyes pensively. Naturally, it stirred an air of intrigue among their teammates. Oishi looked away. He felt embarrassedly guilty of wanting to know if Tezuka did have a girlfriend. Even Kaidoh was blushing slightly. Only Echizen seemed uncaring. He simply ate bowl after bowl of ice cream.
“Fuji, you know, don’t you?” Kikumaru asked, turning delightedly to Fuji. “What’s she like? Did Tezuka tell you?”
“I don’t know any girl,” Fuji said with a teasing smile.
“But you’re smiling!” Momoshiro argued.
“I’m always smiling,” Fuji said calmly.
“Did Tezuka bribe you with a gallon of wasabi ice cream to keep it secret?” Inui asked matter-of-factly.
Fuji tilted his head. Judging by his smile, Tezuka knew that he was enjoying himself. “That’s certainly a good material for bribery, isn’t it, Tezuka?” When Tezuka glared, Fuji chuckled. “There is no girl, I think. Unless…” he raised a brow at Tezuka, “Tezuka is yet to tell me about one?”
Tezuka was sure he was the only one who caught the dangerous edge on Fuji's voice. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said. His voice sounded direct and dismissive. “Now, please finish your food and go to bed. We have morning practice tomorrow.”
“Tezuka is no fun,” Kikumaru whined, finishing his ice cream.
After the dishes were washed, they all climbed upstairs and changed into sleeping clothes. In Fuji's room, they rolled out futons on the floor, where Kikumaru, Oishi, Inui, Kaidoh and Momoshiro slept. Because Tezuka was captain, he was given the luxury of using Fuji's bed (in truth, however, everyone simply didn’t like the idea of lying beside Tezuka; it felt wrong somehow). Using this to his advantage, Fuji started creeping to his own bed until he heard Echizen say, “Move over, Captain” and the familiar creaking sound of his bed.
Fuji shrugged at Tezuka and dropped to the futon beside Kikumaru.
An hour later, nearly everyone was asleep (Tezuka thought he heard someone snore and he was sure he heard Echizen mumble “Karupin, Karupin, over here”), Tezuka heard ruffling blankets. In the dim light of Fuji's Turkish lamps, he could make out Fuji's figure walking to the door. The door opened slightly and Fuji slipped out of the room.
Careful not to wake Echizen (who was, yes, still mumbling “Karupin”), Tezuka sat up and treaded cautiously to follow Fuji.
“Apple juice?” Fuji asked when they reached the kitchen. He opened the fridge and brought out a box of apple juice. He took two glasses from a cupboard, brought everything to the counter and started pouring. He heard Tezuka's steps approach and then he felt arms wrap around his waist. He felt kisses on his neck and shoulders. Shutting his eyes, he tilted his head and welcomed the familiar sensation of Tezuka's breath on his neck, of Tezuka's lips on his skin.
Fuji only just half-filled a glass with juice when he turned around to meet Tezuka's lips with his own. They kissed for several minutes, stopping only to gasp for air. Tezuka's hands slipped under Fuji's pajama top, caressing every inch of skin. Fuji's fingers dug into Tezuka's hair, pressing Tezuka toward him, urging Tezuka to deepen every kiss.
When they finally broke up, Tezuka's hands were still holding Fuji's waist. They both heaved sharp intakes of breath, feeling hot and flushed.
“Someone might come down,” Fuji whispered, ruffling Tezuka's hair.
“I know,” Tezuka replied. He sighed deeply and let go of Fuji.
Fuji grinned. “You owe me a pint of wasabi ice cream for this.”
Tezuka frowned. “For what?”
“For keeping your secret,” Fuji said slyly.
“It’s your secret too,” Tezuka reminded tersely.
Laughing, Fuji got back to filling the glasses. “I can’t sleep. Want to watch a movie?”
“What movie?” Tezuka asked, taking the glass that Fuji was handing and taking a sip of the juice.
“Gone With the Wind?” Fuji suggested, taking a sip of juice from his own glass. “Have you seen it? I suddenly feel like watching it again.”
“I’ve seen it,” Tezuka answered, following Fuji towards the living room. “But I don’t mind watching it again.”
Fuji knelt down the tiled floor, in front of the rack of CDs and DVDs and pulled one out. He turned the TV on, popped the DVD into the player and sat on the sofa where Tezuka already sat. “You’ve finished the book, right?”
“Yes.”
“Have you read the sequel, though?” Fuji asked. He lay across the sofa so that his head rested on Tezuka's lap and his legs dangled on the arm of the sofa. When Tezuka shook his head, he continued, “I think the original one’s better. It has a better ending.” He lowered his voice and said, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
A smile tugging at his lips, Tezuka cast his attention on the film’s opening credits.
The movie has started showing Scarlett O’Hara and her first encounter with Rhett Butler when Fuji said, “Tezuka?”
Tezuka looked at Fuji whose eyes were still on the TV. “Hn?”
“Stay over tomorrow night.” A small but genuine smile graced Fuji’s lips. In an amused whisper, he added, “We don’t have to invite them again. And we can buy my wasabi ice cream.”
“Just promise Mom you’ll have dinner with us soon.”
“That means you’ll buy wasabi ice cream for me.” Tezuka glowered but didn’t voice his disagreement. Fuji chuckled. “I’ll even promise her that I’ll stay the night.”
Shaking his head, but not genuinely displeased, Tezuka nodded and watched the movie again. He would have liked to spend the night with Fuji without the fear of being interrupted. But he found that he enjoyed and missed this too, just sitting, watching a movie with Fuji and discussing things they both liked, even disagreeing on mundane things.
He sat back, a hand resting on Fuji's arm as they watched. He could content himself with this, he considered. In the meantime anyway. Tomorrow night was another matter entirely.
The End.
A/N: Told you, long and pointless fluff. Comments will be loved! Pray that I be less lazy and be able to update something soon.