Prince of Tennis - Balancing Act - Taka/Fuji
Title: Balancing Act
Characters: Taka/Fuji, mentions of Fujicest
Notes: Written for insert_phrase, phrase #50 "This is the end".
Disclaimer: Does not belong to me.
Fuji Shuusuke didn't like losing control. Rather the opposite.
The grass under him should have been soft and comfortable. He was probably getting green stains on his tan pants, but all he could feel were his shoulder blades digging uncomfortably into the brick wall behind him.
"It's nice out toni--"
"You're not going to pretend like nothing is wrong."
He was probably about to do exactly that.
Kawamura sat only a foot away from him, against the same wall and looking very focused on the toes of his shoes and the empty park beyond them.
This was delicate. More so than a broken promise or a misunderstanding, this was balancing on tip toes on top of a single wire. It was enough to make Fuji flush, angry but not sure what to be angry at.
But this was apparently the after effects of having your boyfriend see you touching your younger brother in a way that was anything but brotherly.
"It isn't even nice out," Fuji said. The grey clouds in the sky made the darkness look false, like the world was covered by a thin veil.
Kawamura still seemed much more interested in his shoes.
If it was anyone else, Fuji would have taken it as a hidden gesture, a guilt trip, but this was someone he could trust, someone he could love and have and never even have to consider leaving. Something nagging in the back of his head told him that it was dangerous. Trust always came with a catch.
"What do you want to know?"
Kawamura leaned back and pushed his head up so that he was looking directly up at the sky. His fingers closed around two handfulls of grass.
"I don't know." He said, finally.
Fuji drew in a deep breath.
"You don't... There has to be something. Anything you want to ask."
When Fuji turned his head to the side, he saw a ghost. Younger Kawamura and the way he looked when he was nervous, but it had been three years since junior high, and there wasn't any easy way out of this. Curling his fingers around the end of a tennis racquet was not going to give him the courage to say what Fuji was pretty sure he wanted to say.
He'd want to say it were the situation reversed.
"I kind of...already knew." Kawamura said.
"But there wasn't anything to know. It never happened before."
"I knew." Kawamura said to the sky.
Fuji kept his mouth shut tight. He would have closed that tiny six inch gap and threaded their fingers together, or just leaned against him and admired that grey and ugly sky. But he was frozen, thinking about how Yuuta scowled even when he pressed a soft hand on his cheek. How when Yuuta opened up his lips, even his kisses were angry somehow. He thought about this little bit of warmth that he wasn't sure if he deserved to have. And he'd need to say something fast before Kawamura tried to change the subject again.
He could lie and say there were no feelings before. Or tell the truth and say that he jumped on it the very moment that he knew beyond a doubt that he'd be able to do so. That maybe he'd even gone as far as setting it up, planning it, making sure that nothing was out of place.
But Kawamura looked like that ghost again. He seemed interested in anything and everything around them that didn't happen to be Fuji. Fuji wondered if he'd do the same. What would he want to hear. A nice padded lie?
He had a sinking feeling that Kawamura would see right through one of those. No matter how well he crafted the words. When he opened his mouth to speak, he drew in a sharp breath instead. There weren't any words and Kawamura didn't seem to want any. He curled his fingers under his palm to relieve the temptation of closing the space.
"You're right. It isn't nice out tonight. I... It's cold."
Kawamura looked at him for the first time that night.
For a moment, Fuji didn't move. He looked at Kawamura as if he was sizing up an opponent. The very notion was ridiculous and belittled everything in front of him. Kawamura wasn't frowning or smiling, he looked blank and unreadable.
He didn't let go of the stare even when Kawamura's hand did crawl over to his. He just let Kawamura uncurl his fingers, without a word.
---
"What do you want?" Fuji asked when he came up for air. The hard bricks of the wall dug uncomfortably into the backs of his hands.
He was the one who slid into Kawamura's lap and started this mockery of something intimate. The night was already ruined beyond repair and if this was the end, he wanted something to remember.
Kawamura didn't taste anything like Yuuta and Fuji hated himself for even thinking it.
But Kawamura was warm and accepting underneath him. Accepting the kiss, at the very least. He wouldn't answer the question.
"What do you want?" Fuji asked again. "Tell me."
"I..."
It was a rush of mixed messages, Fuji wanted him to answer and then filled his mouth so that he couldn't speak. The chaos in his head was whizzing all around him, escaping through his hands and fingertips.
And suddenly he felt selfish, wanting to dip his fingers into the angles of Kawamura's sculpted abs that hadn't suffered a bit for lack of tennis. He dug the fingers of his right hand into a bicep. The muscles were rigid and warm. Fuji was drowning in arousal and guilt.
He hooked a finger in the waist of Kawamura's jeans and began toying with the button. Soon after, Kawamura grabbed Fuji's wrist and held it firmly. He looked at Fuji. Really looked at him.
It was the kind of look that left an imprint in his mind even when it was out of view. Kawamura's hand was flat on Fuji's back and he was pulling him closer until their chests were touching and Fuji was looking right over his shoulder. Kawamura held him in place.
Fuji just stared in front of him thinking of the old saying about keeping your enemies close.
"I... want you to figure out what you want."
The words stung at first like ripping off a bandaid, but the sting left as quickly as it came.
There was something solid and stable in Kawamura's arms that Fuji tried his best not to let himself feel. But his chest was moving along with Kawamura's breath, almost threatening to rock him to sleep. He didn't move at all, but Kawamura pulled him closer and he closed his eyes, letting the grass stains seep deeper into his tan pants and the brick wall cut his knuckles.
Kawamura's request was probably an impossible one, but he was too tired to think about it. He let his limbs go limp and they stayed that way, against the wall, until it finally grew dark.
Characters: Taka/Fuji, mentions of Fujicest
Notes: Written for insert_phrase, phrase #50 "This is the end".
Disclaimer: Does not belong to me.
Fuji Shuusuke didn't like losing control. Rather the opposite.
The grass under him should have been soft and comfortable. He was probably getting green stains on his tan pants, but all he could feel were his shoulder blades digging uncomfortably into the brick wall behind him.
"It's nice out toni--"
"You're not going to pretend like nothing is wrong."
He was probably about to do exactly that.
Kawamura sat only a foot away from him, against the same wall and looking very focused on the toes of his shoes and the empty park beyond them.
This was delicate. More so than a broken promise or a misunderstanding, this was balancing on tip toes on top of a single wire. It was enough to make Fuji flush, angry but not sure what to be angry at.
But this was apparently the after effects of having your boyfriend see you touching your younger brother in a way that was anything but brotherly.
"It isn't even nice out," Fuji said. The grey clouds in the sky made the darkness look false, like the world was covered by a thin veil.
Kawamura still seemed much more interested in his shoes.
If it was anyone else, Fuji would have taken it as a hidden gesture, a guilt trip, but this was someone he could trust, someone he could love and have and never even have to consider leaving. Something nagging in the back of his head told him that it was dangerous. Trust always came with a catch.
"What do you want to know?"
Kawamura leaned back and pushed his head up so that he was looking directly up at the sky. His fingers closed around two handfulls of grass.
"I don't know." He said, finally.
Fuji drew in a deep breath.
"You don't... There has to be something. Anything you want to ask."
When Fuji turned his head to the side, he saw a ghost. Younger Kawamura and the way he looked when he was nervous, but it had been three years since junior high, and there wasn't any easy way out of this. Curling his fingers around the end of a tennis racquet was not going to give him the courage to say what Fuji was pretty sure he wanted to say.
He'd want to say it were the situation reversed.
"I kind of...already knew." Kawamura said.
"But there wasn't anything to know. It never happened before."
"I knew." Kawamura said to the sky.
Fuji kept his mouth shut tight. He would have closed that tiny six inch gap and threaded their fingers together, or just leaned against him and admired that grey and ugly sky. But he was frozen, thinking about how Yuuta scowled even when he pressed a soft hand on his cheek. How when Yuuta opened up his lips, even his kisses were angry somehow. He thought about this little bit of warmth that he wasn't sure if he deserved to have. And he'd need to say something fast before Kawamura tried to change the subject again.
He could lie and say there were no feelings before. Or tell the truth and say that he jumped on it the very moment that he knew beyond a doubt that he'd be able to do so. That maybe he'd even gone as far as setting it up, planning it, making sure that nothing was out of place.
But Kawamura looked like that ghost again. He seemed interested in anything and everything around them that didn't happen to be Fuji. Fuji wondered if he'd do the same. What would he want to hear. A nice padded lie?
He had a sinking feeling that Kawamura would see right through one of those. No matter how well he crafted the words. When he opened his mouth to speak, he drew in a sharp breath instead. There weren't any words and Kawamura didn't seem to want any. He curled his fingers under his palm to relieve the temptation of closing the space.
"You're right. It isn't nice out tonight. I... It's cold."
Kawamura looked at him for the first time that night.
For a moment, Fuji didn't move. He looked at Kawamura as if he was sizing up an opponent. The very notion was ridiculous and belittled everything in front of him. Kawamura wasn't frowning or smiling, he looked blank and unreadable.
He didn't let go of the stare even when Kawamura's hand did crawl over to his. He just let Kawamura uncurl his fingers, without a word.
---
"What do you want?" Fuji asked when he came up for air. The hard bricks of the wall dug uncomfortably into the backs of his hands.
He was the one who slid into Kawamura's lap and started this mockery of something intimate. The night was already ruined beyond repair and if this was the end, he wanted something to remember.
Kawamura didn't taste anything like Yuuta and Fuji hated himself for even thinking it.
But Kawamura was warm and accepting underneath him. Accepting the kiss, at the very least. He wouldn't answer the question.
"What do you want?" Fuji asked again. "Tell me."
"I..."
It was a rush of mixed messages, Fuji wanted him to answer and then filled his mouth so that he couldn't speak. The chaos in his head was whizzing all around him, escaping through his hands and fingertips.
And suddenly he felt selfish, wanting to dip his fingers into the angles of Kawamura's sculpted abs that hadn't suffered a bit for lack of tennis. He dug the fingers of his right hand into a bicep. The muscles were rigid and warm. Fuji was drowning in arousal and guilt.
He hooked a finger in the waist of Kawamura's jeans and began toying with the button. Soon after, Kawamura grabbed Fuji's wrist and held it firmly. He looked at Fuji. Really looked at him.
It was the kind of look that left an imprint in his mind even when it was out of view. Kawamura's hand was flat on Fuji's back and he was pulling him closer until their chests were touching and Fuji was looking right over his shoulder. Kawamura held him in place.
Fuji just stared in front of him thinking of the old saying about keeping your enemies close.
"I... want you to figure out what you want."
The words stung at first like ripping off a bandaid, but the sting left as quickly as it came.
There was something solid and stable in Kawamura's arms that Fuji tried his best not to let himself feel. But his chest was moving along with Kawamura's breath, almost threatening to rock him to sleep. He didn't move at all, but Kawamura pulled him closer and he closed his eyes, letting the grass stains seep deeper into his tan pants and the brick wall cut his knuckles.
Kawamura's request was probably an impossible one, but he was too tired to think about it. He let his limbs go limp and they stayed that way, against the wall, until it finally grew dark.