[FIC] - Fireworks for karupin porn
Title: Fireworks
Author/Artist: Swallow Zone, better known as A
Pairing: TezuFu
Rating: G
Summary: Tezuka hates festivals; we aren't so sure about Fuji.
Warnings: Cheek kissing, pretentiousness, and last minute no edit-fu.
Notes: Hi :DDDD You know how you asked for art? I drew it, and then my scanner made my computer almost go all explodey. Hence, not pic but fic; I'm so sorry u.u When I get my scanner working again I'll definitely post your picture. Sorrysorrysorry.
"Te zu ka," a smiling voice said as a small hand lightly touched his shoulder. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Fuji," Tezuka said, turning and nodding.
Fuji was smiling prettily in artless surprise, one hand still raised, the other holding a fan which he lifted to cover the lower half of his face. "Oishi told me you were staying at home."
Tezuka stifled a sigh, settling for a shrug instead. His mother had insisted that he come; her family was visiting, and she'd claimed she and his aunt needed help watching his cousins. Tezuka, however, had seen neither hide nor hair of parents, aunts, uncles, or cousins since he'd arrived.
"Plans change," Fuji said sympathetically, tapping the edge of his fan against his lips. It was blue, painted with a butterfly. "I'm sorry: I know you hate festivals."
Tezuka made a noncommittal noise.
"So serious," Fuji chided, eyes opening a modest slice over the top of his fan. "I have an idea."
"Oh?"
"Yes: you and I are going to stroll together like an old married couple, chuckling at children's--"
"Fuji." The two syllables were expressive; Tezuka started to walk away, but was halted by the grasp of hand in the sleeve of his yukata.
"Okay," Fuji said, voice warm and amused, "maybe not like that. Ne, buchou?"
Tezuka rolled his eyes, but followed Fuji anyway. They walked slowly up and down the crowded park paths, dodging children; sometimes Fuji would stop at a booth to ooh and aah, cheeks looking flushed in the honey-colored lights. Every once in a while their hands would brush, but it was always accidental--or at least Fuji acted like it was--so Tezuka let himself relax, be lulled by the ceaseless up-and-down murmur of people's voices and the soft clicking of Fuji's sandals.
"Tezuka," Fuji finally said, voice determinedly light as he weighed a small bag of candy in his hand, "have you given any thought to our...last conversation?" He put the candy back down, but remained facing the display as if captivated by the colors the lanterns made across the crinkly cellophane bags.
Tezuka was left to regard the nape of Fuji's neck; he reflexively rubbed at the bridge of his nose, a nervous gesture that remained even though he no longer wore glasses. "How could I not?" he replied quietly. "You..."
"No," Fuji interrupted, turning suddenly with his smile in place and his head cocked slightly. "Let's not talk about that now; I'm enjoying myself too much."
"Alright," Tezuka said, at a loss. "Did you..." He gestured helplessly at the candy.
"I'm fine," Fuji said firmly. "Let's keep walking. The fireworks are about to start, aren't they?"
The fireworks didn't start for another forty-five minutes and they both knew it. "Fuji, what are you trying to do?"
The fan came up to cover all of Fuji's face but his smiling eyes. "Whatever do you mean? I'm not trying to do anything."
It came out too defensively. Fuji's knuckles tightened minutely over the sticks of his fan.
"Come on," Tezuka finally sighed in defeat. He started walking towards the hill where everyone would sit to view the fireworks; this early, it was fairly empty. Tezuka sat down on the grass, mindful of his yukata. Fuji followed suit, settling himself neatly and efficiently, hands folded demurely over his fan, as close to seiza as he could manage on the hillside. Fuji's tension was unnerving. Tezuka didn't know how to react to it and words had never been his strong suit, so they sat uncomfortably in lengthening silence.
"Just...forget I said anything," Fuji finally murmured, so quietly Tezuka almost couldn't hear him over the whispering of the distant crowd and the sighing of the wind in the trees. He sounded broken, defeated, and something in Tezuka's chest wrenched painfully.
"Fuji--"
"I was stupid." His voice was bitter; out of the corner of his eye Tezuka could see that his head was bowed, knuckles white on his fan. "I was stupid. I shouldn't have said anything."
Tezuka was speechless. He'd never heard Fuji sound like that before, had never known Fuji to say things like that before through the years of the acquaintance. He searched for words; they scattered like goldfish before a net.
"I'm sorry to have bothered you." There was a slight catch to Fuji's voice, so faint Tezuka almost missed it in the rustling of his clothes as he stood.
"Fuji, wait." Tezuka turned, reaching out a hand and catching awkwardly at the hem of Fuji's yukata. "Stop. Sit down."
Fuji did so wordlessly, with a nervous economy of motion. They sat together silently as people began filtering onto the hillside, parents being tugged by their excited, sticky children, and still had not spoken when the first fireworks screamed their paths into the sky. Tezuka watched Fuji watch the fireworks: his eyes were fixed on the white and gold flowers blooming across the sky with rapt concentration.
In a lull when sparks were fading from the sky and everything was quiet, Tezuka found himself leaning over, body moving without his direction, and brushing his lips against the arch of Fuji's cheekbone. Fuji stiffened.
"Tezuka," he whispered, "don't."
"Ssh," Tezuka whispered back, cautiously letting his fingers brush across Fuji's hand. Their fingers twined modestly together on the grass. Fuji went back to watching the fireworks; and this time Tezuka joined him.
Author/Artist: Swallow Zone, better known as A
Pairing: TezuFu
Rating: G
Summary: Tezuka hates festivals; we aren't so sure about Fuji.
Warnings: Cheek kissing, pretentiousness, and last minute no edit-fu.
Notes: Hi :DDDD You know how you asked for art? I drew it, and then my scanner made my computer almost go all explodey. Hence, not pic but fic; I'm so sorry u.u When I get my scanner working again I'll definitely post your picture. Sorrysorrysorry.
"Te zu ka," a smiling voice said as a small hand lightly touched his shoulder. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Fuji," Tezuka said, turning and nodding.
Fuji was smiling prettily in artless surprise, one hand still raised, the other holding a fan which he lifted to cover the lower half of his face. "Oishi told me you were staying at home."
Tezuka stifled a sigh, settling for a shrug instead. His mother had insisted that he come; her family was visiting, and she'd claimed she and his aunt needed help watching his cousins. Tezuka, however, had seen neither hide nor hair of parents, aunts, uncles, or cousins since he'd arrived.
"Plans change," Fuji said sympathetically, tapping the edge of his fan against his lips. It was blue, painted with a butterfly. "I'm sorry: I know you hate festivals."
Tezuka made a noncommittal noise.
"So serious," Fuji chided, eyes opening a modest slice over the top of his fan. "I have an idea."
"Oh?"
"Yes: you and I are going to stroll together like an old married couple, chuckling at children's--"
"Fuji." The two syllables were expressive; Tezuka started to walk away, but was halted by the grasp of hand in the sleeve of his yukata.
"Okay," Fuji said, voice warm and amused, "maybe not like that. Ne, buchou?"
Tezuka rolled his eyes, but followed Fuji anyway. They walked slowly up and down the crowded park paths, dodging children; sometimes Fuji would stop at a booth to ooh and aah, cheeks looking flushed in the honey-colored lights. Every once in a while their hands would brush, but it was always accidental--or at least Fuji acted like it was--so Tezuka let himself relax, be lulled by the ceaseless up-and-down murmur of people's voices and the soft clicking of Fuji's sandals.
"Tezuka," Fuji finally said, voice determinedly light as he weighed a small bag of candy in his hand, "have you given any thought to our...last conversation?" He put the candy back down, but remained facing the display as if captivated by the colors the lanterns made across the crinkly cellophane bags.
Tezuka was left to regard the nape of Fuji's neck; he reflexively rubbed at the bridge of his nose, a nervous gesture that remained even though he no longer wore glasses. "How could I not?" he replied quietly. "You..."
"No," Fuji interrupted, turning suddenly with his smile in place and his head cocked slightly. "Let's not talk about that now; I'm enjoying myself too much."
"Alright," Tezuka said, at a loss. "Did you..." He gestured helplessly at the candy.
"I'm fine," Fuji said firmly. "Let's keep walking. The fireworks are about to start, aren't they?"
The fireworks didn't start for another forty-five minutes and they both knew it. "Fuji, what are you trying to do?"
The fan came up to cover all of Fuji's face but his smiling eyes. "Whatever do you mean? I'm not trying to do anything."
It came out too defensively. Fuji's knuckles tightened minutely over the sticks of his fan.
"Come on," Tezuka finally sighed in defeat. He started walking towards the hill where everyone would sit to view the fireworks; this early, it was fairly empty. Tezuka sat down on the grass, mindful of his yukata. Fuji followed suit, settling himself neatly and efficiently, hands folded demurely over his fan, as close to seiza as he could manage on the hillside. Fuji's tension was unnerving. Tezuka didn't know how to react to it and words had never been his strong suit, so they sat uncomfortably in lengthening silence.
"Just...forget I said anything," Fuji finally murmured, so quietly Tezuka almost couldn't hear him over the whispering of the distant crowd and the sighing of the wind in the trees. He sounded broken, defeated, and something in Tezuka's chest wrenched painfully.
"Fuji--"
"I was stupid." His voice was bitter; out of the corner of his eye Tezuka could see that his head was bowed, knuckles white on his fan. "I was stupid. I shouldn't have said anything."
Tezuka was speechless. He'd never heard Fuji sound like that before, had never known Fuji to say things like that before through the years of the acquaintance. He searched for words; they scattered like goldfish before a net.
"I'm sorry to have bothered you." There was a slight catch to Fuji's voice, so faint Tezuka almost missed it in the rustling of his clothes as he stood.
"Fuji, wait." Tezuka turned, reaching out a hand and catching awkwardly at the hem of Fuji's yukata. "Stop. Sit down."
Fuji did so wordlessly, with a nervous economy of motion. They sat together silently as people began filtering onto the hillside, parents being tugged by their excited, sticky children, and still had not spoken when the first fireworks screamed their paths into the sky. Tezuka watched Fuji watch the fireworks: his eyes were fixed on the white and gold flowers blooming across the sky with rapt concentration.
In a lull when sparks were fading from the sky and everything was quiet, Tezuka found himself leaning over, body moving without his direction, and brushing his lips against the arch of Fuji's cheekbone. Fuji stiffened.
"Tezuka," he whispered, "don't."
"Ssh," Tezuka whispered back, cautiously letting his fingers brush across Fuji's hand. Their fingers twined modestly together on the grass. Fuji went back to watching the fireworks; and this time Tezuka joined him.