Title: Haunt Me

Pairing: Fuji/Ryoma

Rating: PG-13

Summary: One-shot- Not all ghosts are friendly, some want more and Echizen Ryoma learns the hard way. (Fuji/Ryo)

Ok well this story idea came from my Fuji muse being horrible in my other story so I tried to kill him off but then Ryoma wanted him back so here he is in ghost form.

Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is not mine- I apologize for the shock this may cause.

Haunt Me

Echizen Ryoma only cared about tennis. As long as he had a racquet in one hand and a tennis ball in the other, he could care less about what was happening around him. That was why when his father came up with another of his brilliant ideas to move them halfway across the globe, Ryoma just put his tennis bag in the hallway and set to work trying to convince his cat that he really wanted to be forced into a cardboard box.

A couple days later Ryoma was able to pull the bandages off his scratched up arms and unpack all the rest of his stuff that his mother had been kind enough to remind him quite loudly that he should bring. As he reverently unpacked his collection of tennis racquets and set them on the bed for easy access, the room seemed to grow slightly cooler and a soft breeze tousled the raven-locks of the young tennis player. Echizen shivered slightly but it was an unconscious reflex, his attention was solely on unearthing the next racquet so he could go test them out on a court.

Ryoma soon grew to loathe the presence in their household. Clearly the spirit was restless but that was what all the books said about ghosts, having unfinished business made them haunt the living blah, blah, blah. No this spirit was more than restless, Echizen had surmised, this ghost was bored. Apparently having nothing to do with your afterlife meant your schedule was open for tormenting the residents of your house. So the spirit would play tricks. Little things, like adding wasabi to their meals, or hiding Nanjiroh's porn collection, or somehow having cacti appear out of nowhere in chairs or on beds. The worst part was that noone else believed in the ghost. No instead his parents were perfectly happy blaming him for all the incidents. A fact which clearly amused their resident spirit. As Ryoma was ordered up to his room again, he faintly heard the melodious chuckle of a young man bouncing off the walls. If Ryoma wasn't so angry at the boy spirit he would have called the voice sexy and soothing.

It went from annoying to scary the night that Ryoma woke up to find a warm body lying over his. He stared sleepily up through the darkness and could barely make out an outline of a slim form, a delicate hand touching his face, a flash of brilliant sapphire and then he blinked and it all disappeared. The raven-haired boy turned on the bedside light as he frantically looked around the room for whoever had been on top of him but it was useless. You couldn't catch what can't be seen. Ryoma finally turned off the light and fell back asleep but the damage had already been done. His restless spirit had finally chosen a purpose. And he wasn't going anywhere.

The sight of the raven-haired boy hurrying down a dorm hallway while constantly pausing to glance over his shoulder attracted quite a bit of attention at the St. Rudolph School. When Ryoma finally reached the door he had been searching for, he glanced once more over his shoulder, positive that someone was following him, before knocking quietly. When Fuji Yuuta yanked open the door to stare curiously at his visitor, Echizen flinched at the phantom trace of fingers down his neck. "Can I help you?" Yuuta asked curiously as he watched the smaller boy shiver.

"I need your help," Echizen pleaded, "I need you to help me get rid of your brother." An arrange of emotions spread across the older boy's face before his face cleared of all emotions and he stated coldly, "My brother is dead." The door slammed shut in Echizen's face with a final tone to it and the fingers that had touched his neck now tightened, leaving him gasping for breathe.

The raven-haired boy with the wide golden orbs never moved much anymore, but he was pretty to look at. Fuji in particular liked to slide his hands along the perfect pale skin along his chest, pausing at the neck to feel the still beating heart before heading upwards to the lips, which he covered with his own. He loved that moment when the boy would shiver and a spark of emotion would flash through his orbs. Because then Fuji would be smug in the fact that that emotion belonged to him, just like the rest of the boy. "Mine," Fuji would breathe in the smaller boy's ear, producing another shiver and a low moan, "Mine forever." Of course actions were far more important than words Fuji decided with a smile as his hand glided lower.