Synopsis: There is only so much unresolved sexual tension one can endure... and
it looks like Fuji would just have to take matters into his own hands... YAOI
A/n: wai, another Tezuka x Fuji fic, my favorite PoT couple of course^^
Disclaimer: don't own PoT.
Chapter 1: His Desire
The teacher's steady voice continued to recite a passage from a historical novel that they were analyzing, but Fuji didn't mind not listening... after all, he had memorized the passage long before everyone else in the class. But more importantly, he had just discovered something far more inspiring.
Fuji leaned closer to the boy sitting primly on the seat in front of him, close enough so that his nose teasingly hovered over the other boy's nape, his breathing lightly making the short tresses of dark hair sway.
"Ne, Tezuka..." he began, deliberately dragging his voice making it sound almost like a soft velvety whisper.
He couldn't see Tezuka's face, but Fuji could very well imagine his captain's stern expression frowning in disapproval.
"What is it?"
Fuji smiled. Tezuka was always cold, but Fuji had been one of the few whom the stoic captain of Seigaku occasionally showed a rare gentler side. But today, Tezuka was cold... especially to him.
And Fuji had every idea why.
He leaned farther forward, his chin almost resting on one of Tezuka's broad shoulders. Fuji almost chuckled when Tezuka stiffened.
"Can I borrow your notes later, Tezuka?"
Fuji could almost imagine Tezuka gritting his teeth in annoyance.
"Why don't you take your own notes?" Tezuka snapped.
Fuji lightly cocked his head to the side, the soft strands of his hair lightly brushing on the rim of Tezuka's glasses. Tezuka immediately leaned farther away, but the gesture only seemed to give Fuji greater access to the sensitive flesh on his neck.
"But your head is blocking the way, Tezuka. I can't see what's written on the board."
Fuji's smile didn't falter when Tezuka gave him an almost nervous glance, followed by a quick look around the classroom as if reminding him of where they were.
But Fuji knew all too well there was nothing to worry about. They sat at the farthest corner of the room and everyone else seemed caught up with the passage the teacher was reading. And after all, he was clever and calculating... he would never let such trifle matters interfere with what he wanted... and what he wanted right then was the only person that could make his skin burn hotter than glowing coals.
"Then you should have said so earlier," Tezuka hissed between gritted teeth, shifting his head farther to the side.
"Not that way, Tezuka. I still can't see the blackboard."
Tezuka gave an almost exasperated sigh. He knew Fuji... Fuji and his games. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up dancing in Fuji's palms like most of Fuji's tennis opponents usually ended up doing.
He leaned farther to the right, even giving his chair a light tug that made the wooden seat let out a soft creak, earning a few curious glances. But one glare from him sent the curious eyes cowering away... such was the reputation of the strict captain of Seigaku.
"It never fails to amaze me how you can scare people with your eyes..."
Tezuka stiffened. Fuji had leaned even closer, close enough so that Tezuka could catch a faint whiff of Fuji's breath, a strange mix of vanilla and mint.
The pen Tezuka held on his left hand threatened to snapped when he unconsciously clenched his fists. Fuji had the smile of an innocent angel... but in truth, the beautiful boy was as cruel and unrelenting as an enchanted imp.
"We're in class Fuji. Either shut up or listen," he snapped, narrowing his eyes in a threatening glare that was known to make boys pale in fear, and girls swoon in awe... but he knew it wouldn't work on Fuji... it never did.
"But it's your fault, Tezuka. I can't see--"
"You don't need to see what's written on the board," Tezuka cut off the rest of Fuji's words. Which was true, for Fuji knew the classics almost as much as he knew tennis.
"But I really want to see. Can you move your head to the side just a bit?"
Tezuka was almost lost in the soft lilt of Fuji's voice, almost like a tender singsong lulling him to sleep. As if driven by an unseen force, his body started sliding back to where he was before... closer to Fuji... closer to Fuji's warmth...
The teacher's high-pitched voice suddenly boomed to call on one of the students to read a particular passage, pulling Tezuka from the dangerous trance Fuji had so expertly woven for him.
Fuji cleared his throat, but Tezuka knew it was to cover a knowing chuckle. He glared again. Against Fuji, it would seem that it was all he could do.
"I did move!" he snapped, almost childishly. He had wondered countless times before why only Fuji could make him behave so shamefully, and each time he tried to reason it out, the answer simply eluded him.
His only consolation at the moment was that Fuji had gone back to sitting properly on his seat again. Tezuka's breathing began to resume its normal pace.
Or so he thought until long graceful fingers teasingly trailed along the sensitive skin on his nape.
"Stop that Fuji," he protested almost half-heartedly, torn between irritation and a sudden unfamiliar urge to lean back and let out a satisfied purr. The thought of him, the well-respected captain of Seigaku, purring like a satisfied kitten in the middle of the class no less, was so horrifying that it brought back the control he needed.
He had decided long before that Fuji was a hazard to his sanity.
A half growl caught on his throat when Fuji's fingers moved to slowly rake the soft strands of his hair, one delicate thumb enticingly hovering over one earlobe.
The loud thud told Tezuka the book he once held on his hands had gone falling to the floor. The teacher stopped in mid-sentence.
"Is something wrong, Tezuka-kun?" the teacher asked politely.
Yes, even the teachers respected him... for he was Tezuka Kunimitsu after all. If only they knew the shameful predicament he was going through.
"Sumimasen, sensei. I need to go to the washroom," he stated in a firm voice that had people usually mistaking him for someone far older, not a Junior High School senior.
"Of course, of course, Tezuka-kun, take your time," his sensei answered almost too eagerly. At other times, Tezuka would usually hide a derisive snort, disgusted at how teachers liked to act all goody-goody at students like him while mistreating others.
But Tezuka didn't have time to ponder such trifle thoughts right then... for the object of his misery sat comfortably on his seat, long legs crossed, one swaying gracefully to and fro... an innocent smile tugging on full, rosy lower lip.
He gave Fuji one more glare before bending to pick the book he had dropped and stalking out of the classroom.
But Tezuka should have known...
"Sensei, I need to go to the washroom too," Fuji declared, voice coated with honey, face always radiant with a smile... and no one could ever sense the clever and calculating strategist that hid within that beautiful facade.
But he was Tezuka Kunimitsu... the calm and always collected captain of Seigaku... although if he didn't have a reputation to uphold, Tezuka would have probably ran out of the room for dear life.
Tezuka walked briskly down the deserted hallway. He was fuming... fortunately, no one took notice of him, save for the schoolgirls who couldn't help but glance his way as he passed the wide open classroom doors along the hall. Everyone was still in the middle of class, after all, it was only 10 in the morning, yet he couldn't believe all his senses were reeling in heightened awareness... and the one responsible for it was trailing behind him with unconcerned footsteps, probably whistling to himself.
He stopped where the hall branched to the east wing of the building, and to where the nearest washroom was located, debating which way he would take. In the end, he growled in frustration. Fuji would find him no matter how far he went.
He turned right after all, and entered the boy's washroom, which, to his relief was deserted as well.
Tezuka took a look at himself in the full-length mirror. It had always baffled him why girls found him so attractive, yet he must admit; perhaps he really did fall into the good-looking category although he never really thought much of such matters. A poker face that sported narrow eyes glinting behind elegant spectacles, a slightly pointed chin, lips usually pursed into a thin line... yes, perhaps he really did stand out of the usual crowd. And perhaps he took pleasure in the fact that people feared him... not because of ego or anything, but because he never really did appreciate more attention than he needed. If people felt aloof towards him, then fine, solitude was something he treasured... but that was until he met the beautiful boy whom was to turn his world upside down and blow it all out of place.
Fuji had greeted him with an unfaltering smile the first time they met, not a trace of even the slightest apprehension people usually felt around him. Fuji had talked to him without reservation, patted his shoulder like they were already long time friends, and called his name without hesitation. Fuji was... different. He knew it the first time he saw that angelic smile. More different from even Oishi, the one he considered as his closest friend.
Their acquaintance since then had taken various turns. They had been rivals, comrades, teammates... friends. The first time he saw Fuji play tennis, the always-smiling tennis tensai had ignited the competitive blood that burned within him. He would be a hypocrite if he denied ever being fearful of Fuji's talent, more so when no one ever knew Fuji's full strength. It was a known fact that Fuji's skill in tennis was right below his... but Fuji really used his full-strength, Tezuka sometimes wondered just where would they stand against each other.
Tezuka had always been popular, but Fuji rivaled him in that aspect as well. But Fuji wasn't only popular with girls like he was... but to boys as well. Fuji had both the looks and the charm that were a magnet to both sexes. There had been a few males in the school who had showed unhidden affections for the famed tensai... and that fact never really settled well on Tezuka. He didn't know the reason why... at least not until recently.
The washroom door squeaked as the object of his thoughts came striding in. He had been expecting Fuji to follow him, yet the sight of Fuji almost had him holding his breath. The feel of Fuji's lithe fingertips was still fresh on his skin, Fuji's scent still lingering on his nose.
Tezuka walked over to the sink, turning on the faucet and fetching a handful of cold water to splash on his face, deliberately keeping himself from glancing on the mirror for he knew he would meet Fuji's eyes if he did so... and he never wanted to meet Fuji's eyes.
"Stop it, Fuji. We've talked about this already," Tezuka stated calmly after drying his wet face with a paper towel and replacing his spectacles.
Fuji was smiling like he always did...
"You started this game Tezuka... I'm merely carrying it out," Fuji answered slowly, pressing his body to the stunned taller boy.
Tezuka instinctively took a step back until his lower back hit the cold sink. Fuji kept moving forward so that Tezuka was forced to lean back, their lower bodies pressed against each other, the warmth almost blinding them both.
Fuji lifted one dainty finger to trace on Tezuka's collarbone.
"You were the one who taught me the pleasure the flesh can offer, Tezuka... denying it would just be plain cruel, don't you think?"
Tezuka looked away, his hands tightly gripping the edge of the sink until his knuckles almost turned white.
"Better forget it, Fuji. We don't have a future together. We've already talked about this," Tezuka stated in almost a whisper.
To his surprise, Fuji slowly moved away. Tezuka almost reached out... the need for Fuji's warmth was almost making his body move in it's own accord. But Tezuka stopped himself in time.
"I see..." Fuji continued, letting out a strange sound that sounded almost like hollow laughter.
"If you can't give me what I want... then I guess I'll just have to look elsewhere," Fuji added before turning on his heels.
Tezuka's eyes darkened. He fiercely grabbed Fuji's shoulder, forcing a gasp of pain from the smaller boy.
"What did you just say?!" Tezuka demanded, eyes narrowed like glinting slits.
"Let me go, Tezuka, you're hurting me," Fuji demanded, fingers half-heartedly trying to brush off Tezuka's painful grip on his shoulder.
"What did you just say?"
Fuji gave an almost irritated sigh.
"I said if you don't want me, then I'll just--"
Fuji's words were drowned by his own gasp when Tezuka yanked his arm hard enough for him to slam his own body against Tezuka's.
"Don't fuck with me," Tezuka hissed in unbridled fury. "And no one else is touching you, Fuji, ever."
A slight victorious smile slowly formed on Fuji's lower lip.
"If you say, so... Buchou..."
a/n: ^o^ I just love making Fuji the conniving seductive uke and Tezuka the reluctant possessive seme! SOOOOO YUMMY!!!! Well, anyway, it's probably obvious where this fic is going^^ and yup, some smut in the next chappy, I promise.
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