[LOG] New Year's plans
Who: Atobe and Fuji
Where: Senior Dormitory kitchen
When: December 12th
Rating: PG-13
What: Fuji finds out about Atobe’s New Year plans with Tezuka
Surrounded by piles of cookery books focusing on the more traditional side of Japanese culinary art, Keigo had donned his new apron (dark navy blue with none of the trimmings) over a suitably punkish attire. Those who were not larking about outside had been banished from the senior dorm’s kitchen with a few well placed glares, and he was currently using chopsticks to place the last few items into an intricately constructed New Year’s lunch box.
The black lacquered case was filled with an assortment of seasonal delicacies which had in turn spread some rather delectable aromas all the way down the corridor.
Fuji wandered into the kitchen enroute to the main buildings where he was planning to occupy the dark room. Seeing Atobe, he smiled as he helped himself to an onigiri from a tub in the fridge and came to lean against him. Glancing at what Atobe was preparing, he looked up in mild surprise. “It is a little early for a New Year box, ne?”
Careful not to jostle the contents of the lunchbox, Keigo briefly tucked his arm around Fuji’s waist in greeting before glancing towards the door in case anyone happened to be around. It was only after he was sure they were alone that he leant over, just brushing his lips against the other’s cheek.
“I’m practising for the vacation, and who said you could steal one of my onigiri, ahn?” For that minor indiscretion Shuusuke earned himself a little squeezing of the hip, and a mild look of irritation.
Fuji tore the onigiri in two and examined the inside. “Who else do you make wasabi onigiri for?” he asked, popping a section into his mouth. He hummed as he got kissed and took the top of the wasabi in the pristine box display in front of him with his little finger. “You need more wasabi on everything,” was his suggestion. “And a chilli dessert.”
Sadist.
“Kunimitsu invited me to stay at his house over New Year’s.” From the sound of Keigo’s somewhat distracted tone he had little idea of the significance of such a gesture - even if he was rather excited over the prospect of those games Tezuka had mentioned. As well as the whole idea of not spending the vacation cooped up inside an empty mansion with only himself and the janitor for company.
“Kunimitsu?” Fuji wasn’t able to keep the surprise out of his voice as he pulled back from Atobe’s hold. First names? Invitation to meet Tezuka’s family? Over New Years? Recovering himself, Fuji gave a smile that suggested Tezuka was no longer on his New Year’s card list. “That sounds fun.”
The only issue with dating a psychic was that Fuji’s obtuse behavior, which had often baffled and annoyed Keigo to distraction was laid bare as soon as his current mood traversed the minor distance now between them. Accompanied by that little slip, and the dangerous smile that followed it, Keigo suddenly felt as if he’d been thrown to the wolves. Downing the chopsticks, he placed a light hand upon Fuji’s shoulder, “.......do you want me to stay here?” The unspoken implication in his own voice was that he expected to be staying at the mansion alone.
Blue eyes opened fully and Fuji gazed at him. “You would stay here with me if I asked?”
“I thought you’d have plans of your own.” Tiny snippets of Keigo’s resulting guilt made their presence known in his gaze. He was prone to making assumptions, but normally the only one they caused distress to was himself. Although he’d been looking forward to having his first ‘family’ New Year’s ever, the prospect of leaving Fuji alone within the vast emptiness of the mansion sounded far too cruel.
Fuji’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Normally I do go home, but this year I thought I’d stay,” he explained. “There’s a photography exhibition in Hokkaido I would like to go to at the end of the month.” The waves of guilt leaking from Atobe washed over him and his eyes closed as his smile became more genuine. “There will be plenty of people around, Kei. I won’t be alone.”
Despite the fact that he wasn’t exactly used to playing this role, Keigo took to offering Fuji some kind of protection more naturally than either of them probably would’ve thought possible. Not that it signalled an end to their bickering, but he didn’t hesitate when it came to drawing the other student into a vaguely possessive embrace, “Plenty of idiots...”
Fuji went still as he was gathered up in a surprise hug. Blue eyes peeped out from between honey brown locks as he tried to recall what actions typically resulted in him adding names to his death list. Possibly this would count as physical restraint which was definitely on there and yet.... Well, it could go on hold for now. “I like those idiots,” he told Atobe’s shirt as he leant against his chest.
I like some of them too, but that’s beside the point.
“.....you really want me around?” Keigo couldn’t help but hate the dubious notes in his reply, but if he’d be passing up on a cozy New Year’s spent in the company of Kunimitsu and his family then Fuji had damn well better want him around.
Fuji put his ear against Atobe’s check and tapped out the thrum of his heart beat on his stomach with one set of fingers. Staying in the school with its reduced student body while your partner of choice lived it up with the country’s most eligible superhero wasn’t the most delectable of prospects. On the other hand, dictating Atobe’s actions out of jealousy or lack of trust didn’t paint a picture of a dazzling future full of sunbeams. There were also two other factors:
Firstly, Atobe was offering to stay. This filled Fuji with warm fuzzy happiness.
Secondly, Sakaki would not be at Tezuka’s. This filled Fuji with warm fuzzy happiness.
Looking up into that questioning gaze, Fuji told him; I’d rather be with you this New Year than anyone else and because of that... “No, I think you should go to Tezuka’s.”
With an internal groan which could have echoed back out into the corridor had he vocalised it, Keigo threw up his hands in defeat. How very like Fuji to think one thing and say the complete opposite. Either way even if he could see the situation from both sides of the same coin, choosing one or the other wasn’t going to be an easy decision.
“I wasn’t going because I wanted to try it on with him.” That much at least was true.
Atobe’s frustration was adorable. And hilarious. And … Fuji reached for his camera, then stopped. Perhaps to prolong the fun into future days, they should discuss what had momentarily off-set them both. Fuji took one of Atobe’s discarded hands, folding the fingers around his own. “Kei, your word is good enough for me.” It was true. Fuji appreciated hearing Atobe’s frank declaration that he wanted to visit Tezuka’s house, not his underpants. And if the trust turned out to be misplaced on either side.... he and Niou would have a lot of digging to do, come Spring.
Stop contemplating my demise.
That was just like Fuji - sweet as sugar upon the outside, but internally plotting how to eventually dispose of his lifeless corpse with that nitwit Niou as his trusted accomplice. Even if he granted Fuji the honor of holding onto his hand Keigo momentarily forgot all of his self-doubt and reticence long enough to thread the fingers of his free hand through Shuusuke’s hair, drawing him close enough for a brief, scorching little kiss before breaking away entirely to pack up the lunchbox.
“I suppose you’ll be wanting this.”
Trust Atobe to pick up on that thought. Or had he? It was possible that he’d realise that Fuji plotting corpse disposing with Niou was a fairly solid guess of his thoughts at really any time of the day. As Atobe gathered him up into an intense embrace he thought, I’ll be plotting it day and night, my love.
When he was presented with the box, his smile turned into a beam. “I was sure you’d make me ask.”
“I expect some form of compensation.” The contents of the box was so intricate and varied that there would be no doubt in Fuji’s mind that Keigo had spent at least the last couple of hours painstakingly putting it together. Whether he’d discern that this was done more in an attempt to win over Tezuka’s relatives than the man himself was another matter. For now Keigo held the box aloft, quite out of Fuji’s reach considering he was wearing boots with something of a platform heel to them.
Fuji’s eyes watched the box as it moved from inches above his hands to sky high. His eyes, hidden in smiles, moved down to Atobe’s face. “Of course.” He kissed him gently on the mouth, sliding his hand slowly from chin, down his shirt front to hook into his belt. He kissed him again.
Then he ticked his exposed waist.
The box wobbled precariously, and it was all Keigo could do to get it back down onto the counter in between abortive attempts to quell his own laughter. Being ticklish, and having a partner who took great delight in seeking out one’s every weak point for exploitation had its down sides. In retaliation, Keigo’s counterattack consisted of gathering Fuji up into his arms and hustling him backwards until the small of his back met the counter.
“That’s it! You’ve done it now Fuji Shuusuke.”
Fuji --trapped between the work surface and Atobe, unable to move and totally vulnerable-- lifted his eyebrows. “Promises, promises,” he said cheerfully.
Keigo wasted no time in making good on those promises. After all, if Fuji could locate his own weak spots then maybe a little exploration would unearth the ones he himself could use against his ever-smiling nuisance of a companion.
Fuji held out against Atobe’s exploration right until the other poked his side. Then he doubled over, trying to protect that sensitive area. He caught the offending hand, attempting to draw it away without much success. Realising a new tactic was needed, he twisted his legs around Atobe’s waist and kissed him on the mouth.
For all of his trepidation and doubts, Keigo gave up the reins to his slowly returning confidence rather gladly. Especially when it earned him the pleasant sensation of Shuusuke’s warm body molded up against his own, and the taste of his lips - faintly spiced by the lingering flavor of wasabi and pickled plum. His heart was clamouring ten to the dozen, and even if he didn’t torment Fuji further by praying upon that freshly discovered vulnerability his hands still found their way to Shuu’s hips through a string of heated kisses.
Fuji suddenly wondered what the consequences would be if they got completely carried away and had sex across the kitchen table. Could wasabi be used as a lubricant? The idea presented itself so strongly that he started to chuckle, quite sure he had just thrown it out there for any random psychic --such as the one he was kissing-- to see.
The fully-formed mental image of the two of them making (better?) use of the kitchen table stirred up Keigo’s dormant hormones, but Fuji’s choice of lubricant caused him to pull back with a mildly horrified look upon his face, “I knew you were a sadist, but really....” Even in light of his mortified expression, it was impossible to keep the masochistic fondness for his fellow mutant out of his voice entirely. Shuusuke was rewarded with another kiss, but taking it further felt like too much far too soon for either of them.
The shocked look on Atobe’s face was its own reward for coming up with such an image. “Maybe in the New Year,” Fuji said, straight faced. He felt a rush of affection towards the diva; while a small part of him was tempted by the prospect of that expanse of scrubbed wood, a much larger part of him was relieved that Atobe was content to take this slowly. Given his experience with Sakaki, it had been a niggling anxiety. “And you have distracted me from my photography.” His kiss did not give any hardness to his words.
Rushing into anything hadn’t even occurred to Keigo (Even if he was all too happy to make out with Fuji in the middle of the kitchen). Though the wounds Sakaki had left behind were all but healed, his confidence still needed time to build itself back up. At least giving in to how he really wanted to live had relieved him of a significant burden he’d been dragging around for years.
Oh heaven forbid.
Another brief union of their lips was followed by Keigo gently setting Fuji back down so that he could finish off preparing the lunch box for its home in the fridge.
“You’re stuck with me now, Shu.”
Deposited back on the floor, Fuji straightened his sweater and jacket before coming up behind Atobe and kissing him on the cheek. “Favourite minion,” he declared before gathering back up his camera equipment and heading out the room.
Where: Senior Dormitory kitchen
When: December 12th
Rating: PG-13
What: Fuji finds out about Atobe’s New Year plans with Tezuka
Surrounded by piles of cookery books focusing on the more traditional side of Japanese culinary art, Keigo had donned his new apron (dark navy blue with none of the trimmings) over a suitably punkish attire. Those who were not larking about outside had been banished from the senior dorm’s kitchen with a few well placed glares, and he was currently using chopsticks to place the last few items into an intricately constructed New Year’s lunch box.
The black lacquered case was filled with an assortment of seasonal delicacies which had in turn spread some rather delectable aromas all the way down the corridor.
Fuji wandered into the kitchen enroute to the main buildings where he was planning to occupy the dark room. Seeing Atobe, he smiled as he helped himself to an onigiri from a tub in the fridge and came to lean against him. Glancing at what Atobe was preparing, he looked up in mild surprise. “It is a little early for a New Year box, ne?”
Careful not to jostle the contents of the lunchbox, Keigo briefly tucked his arm around Fuji’s waist in greeting before glancing towards the door in case anyone happened to be around. It was only after he was sure they were alone that he leant over, just brushing his lips against the other’s cheek.
“I’m practising for the vacation, and who said you could steal one of my onigiri, ahn?” For that minor indiscretion Shuusuke earned himself a little squeezing of the hip, and a mild look of irritation.
Fuji tore the onigiri in two and examined the inside. “Who else do you make wasabi onigiri for?” he asked, popping a section into his mouth. He hummed as he got kissed and took the top of the wasabi in the pristine box display in front of him with his little finger. “You need more wasabi on everything,” was his suggestion. “And a chilli dessert.”
Sadist.
“Kunimitsu invited me to stay at his house over New Year’s.” From the sound of Keigo’s somewhat distracted tone he had little idea of the significance of such a gesture - even if he was rather excited over the prospect of those games Tezuka had mentioned. As well as the whole idea of not spending the vacation cooped up inside an empty mansion with only himself and the janitor for company.
“Kunimitsu?” Fuji wasn’t able to keep the surprise out of his voice as he pulled back from Atobe’s hold. First names? Invitation to meet Tezuka’s family? Over New Years? Recovering himself, Fuji gave a smile that suggested Tezuka was no longer on his New Year’s card list. “That sounds fun.”
The only issue with dating a psychic was that Fuji’s obtuse behavior, which had often baffled and annoyed Keigo to distraction was laid bare as soon as his current mood traversed the minor distance now between them. Accompanied by that little slip, and the dangerous smile that followed it, Keigo suddenly felt as if he’d been thrown to the wolves. Downing the chopsticks, he placed a light hand upon Fuji’s shoulder, “.......do you want me to stay here?” The unspoken implication in his own voice was that he expected to be staying at the mansion alone.
Blue eyes opened fully and Fuji gazed at him. “You would stay here with me if I asked?”
“I thought you’d have plans of your own.” Tiny snippets of Keigo’s resulting guilt made their presence known in his gaze. He was prone to making assumptions, but normally the only one they caused distress to was himself. Although he’d been looking forward to having his first ‘family’ New Year’s ever, the prospect of leaving Fuji alone within the vast emptiness of the mansion sounded far too cruel.
Fuji’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Normally I do go home, but this year I thought I’d stay,” he explained. “There’s a photography exhibition in Hokkaido I would like to go to at the end of the month.” The waves of guilt leaking from Atobe washed over him and his eyes closed as his smile became more genuine. “There will be plenty of people around, Kei. I won’t be alone.”
Despite the fact that he wasn’t exactly used to playing this role, Keigo took to offering Fuji some kind of protection more naturally than either of them probably would’ve thought possible. Not that it signalled an end to their bickering, but he didn’t hesitate when it came to drawing the other student into a vaguely possessive embrace, “Plenty of idiots...”
Fuji went still as he was gathered up in a surprise hug. Blue eyes peeped out from between honey brown locks as he tried to recall what actions typically resulted in him adding names to his death list. Possibly this would count as physical restraint which was definitely on there and yet.... Well, it could go on hold for now. “I like those idiots,” he told Atobe’s shirt as he leant against his chest.
I like some of them too, but that’s beside the point.
“.....you really want me around?” Keigo couldn’t help but hate the dubious notes in his reply, but if he’d be passing up on a cozy New Year’s spent in the company of Kunimitsu and his family then Fuji had damn well better want him around.
Fuji put his ear against Atobe’s check and tapped out the thrum of his heart beat on his stomach with one set of fingers. Staying in the school with its reduced student body while your partner of choice lived it up with the country’s most eligible superhero wasn’t the most delectable of prospects. On the other hand, dictating Atobe’s actions out of jealousy or lack of trust didn’t paint a picture of a dazzling future full of sunbeams. There were also two other factors:
Firstly, Atobe was offering to stay. This filled Fuji with warm fuzzy happiness.
Secondly, Sakaki would not be at Tezuka’s. This filled Fuji with warm fuzzy happiness.
Looking up into that questioning gaze, Fuji told him; I’d rather be with you this New Year than anyone else and because of that... “No, I think you should go to Tezuka’s.”
With an internal groan which could have echoed back out into the corridor had he vocalised it, Keigo threw up his hands in defeat. How very like Fuji to think one thing and say the complete opposite. Either way even if he could see the situation from both sides of the same coin, choosing one or the other wasn’t going to be an easy decision.
“I wasn’t going because I wanted to try it on with him.” That much at least was true.
Atobe’s frustration was adorable. And hilarious. And … Fuji reached for his camera, then stopped. Perhaps to prolong the fun into future days, they should discuss what had momentarily off-set them both. Fuji took one of Atobe’s discarded hands, folding the fingers around his own. “Kei, your word is good enough for me.” It was true. Fuji appreciated hearing Atobe’s frank declaration that he wanted to visit Tezuka’s house, not his underpants. And if the trust turned out to be misplaced on either side.... he and Niou would have a lot of digging to do, come Spring.
Stop contemplating my demise.
That was just like Fuji - sweet as sugar upon the outside, but internally plotting how to eventually dispose of his lifeless corpse with that nitwit Niou as his trusted accomplice. Even if he granted Fuji the honor of holding onto his hand Keigo momentarily forgot all of his self-doubt and reticence long enough to thread the fingers of his free hand through Shuusuke’s hair, drawing him close enough for a brief, scorching little kiss before breaking away entirely to pack up the lunchbox.
“I suppose you’ll be wanting this.”
Trust Atobe to pick up on that thought. Or had he? It was possible that he’d realise that Fuji plotting corpse disposing with Niou was a fairly solid guess of his thoughts at really any time of the day. As Atobe gathered him up into an intense embrace he thought, I’ll be plotting it day and night, my love.
When he was presented with the box, his smile turned into a beam. “I was sure you’d make me ask.”
“I expect some form of compensation.” The contents of the box was so intricate and varied that there would be no doubt in Fuji’s mind that Keigo had spent at least the last couple of hours painstakingly putting it together. Whether he’d discern that this was done more in an attempt to win over Tezuka’s relatives than the man himself was another matter. For now Keigo held the box aloft, quite out of Fuji’s reach considering he was wearing boots with something of a platform heel to them.
Fuji’s eyes watched the box as it moved from inches above his hands to sky high. His eyes, hidden in smiles, moved down to Atobe’s face. “Of course.” He kissed him gently on the mouth, sliding his hand slowly from chin, down his shirt front to hook into his belt. He kissed him again.
Then he ticked his exposed waist.
The box wobbled precariously, and it was all Keigo could do to get it back down onto the counter in between abortive attempts to quell his own laughter. Being ticklish, and having a partner who took great delight in seeking out one’s every weak point for exploitation had its down sides. In retaliation, Keigo’s counterattack consisted of gathering Fuji up into his arms and hustling him backwards until the small of his back met the counter.
“That’s it! You’ve done it now Fuji Shuusuke.”
Fuji --trapped between the work surface and Atobe, unable to move and totally vulnerable-- lifted his eyebrows. “Promises, promises,” he said cheerfully.
Keigo wasted no time in making good on those promises. After all, if Fuji could locate his own weak spots then maybe a little exploration would unearth the ones he himself could use against his ever-smiling nuisance of a companion.
Fuji held out against Atobe’s exploration right until the other poked his side. Then he doubled over, trying to protect that sensitive area. He caught the offending hand, attempting to draw it away without much success. Realising a new tactic was needed, he twisted his legs around Atobe’s waist and kissed him on the mouth.
For all of his trepidation and doubts, Keigo gave up the reins to his slowly returning confidence rather gladly. Especially when it earned him the pleasant sensation of Shuusuke’s warm body molded up against his own, and the taste of his lips - faintly spiced by the lingering flavor of wasabi and pickled plum. His heart was clamouring ten to the dozen, and even if he didn’t torment Fuji further by praying upon that freshly discovered vulnerability his hands still found their way to Shuu’s hips through a string of heated kisses.
Fuji suddenly wondered what the consequences would be if they got completely carried away and had sex across the kitchen table. Could wasabi be used as a lubricant? The idea presented itself so strongly that he started to chuckle, quite sure he had just thrown it out there for any random psychic --such as the one he was kissing-- to see.
The fully-formed mental image of the two of them making (better?) use of the kitchen table stirred up Keigo’s dormant hormones, but Fuji’s choice of lubricant caused him to pull back with a mildly horrified look upon his face, “I knew you were a sadist, but really....” Even in light of his mortified expression, it was impossible to keep the masochistic fondness for his fellow mutant out of his voice entirely. Shuusuke was rewarded with another kiss, but taking it further felt like too much far too soon for either of them.
The shocked look on Atobe’s face was its own reward for coming up with such an image. “Maybe in the New Year,” Fuji said, straight faced. He felt a rush of affection towards the diva; while a small part of him was tempted by the prospect of that expanse of scrubbed wood, a much larger part of him was relieved that Atobe was content to take this slowly. Given his experience with Sakaki, it had been a niggling anxiety. “And you have distracted me from my photography.” His kiss did not give any hardness to his words.
Rushing into anything hadn’t even occurred to Keigo (Even if he was all too happy to make out with Fuji in the middle of the kitchen). Though the wounds Sakaki had left behind were all but healed, his confidence still needed time to build itself back up. At least giving in to how he really wanted to live had relieved him of a significant burden he’d been dragging around for years.
Oh heaven forbid.
Another brief union of their lips was followed by Keigo gently setting Fuji back down so that he could finish off preparing the lunch box for its home in the fridge.
“You’re stuck with me now, Shu.”
Deposited back on the floor, Fuji straightened his sweater and jacket before coming up behind Atobe and kissing him on the cheek. “Favourite minion,” he declared before gathering back up his camera equipment and heading out the room.