Pairing: TezukaFujiTezuka co-dominance. Sorry if you found this fic a bit weird because of my writing style.
Warning: Shounen-ai, yaoi. Un-beta-ed, sucky English because my English is rapidly deteriorating. Possible OOC-ness and sappiness.
Disclaimer: Konomi-sensei owns these bishounens. TeFu owns each other, and I own the plot. Mwahahaha.
A/N: Happy birthday my two beloved sisters, aiy-neesan and yosi-san!! I wish you the best all you can gain! Thanks for the laugh and fangirling session we've had together, make sure we have more of it for the upcoming pages of our lives, ne! This is your present, and really, forgive me for being late. I inserted aggressive!Fuji for you, neesan..
A Tennis no Oujisama Fanfiction
It was one of his totally random whims.
They had just finished stretching for the morning practice, and were just about to head to one of the courts to have a rally. He'd been watching the stoic Buchou straightening himself and giving out orders for the first and second years to practice. Then, all of a sudden, their eyes met, and out of the blue, those words just blurted themselves out of his mouth.
"I love you, Tezuka."
It came out oh-so-casually, as if he was pointing out, "Tezuka, is that a new racket?" And it surprised him nonetheless, that even though his heart was hammering in his chest like it would burst out any second, and his breath felt like stuck in his throat, he still kept his innocent smile steadily plastered, masking the chaos going on inside him.
Tezuka gazed at him for several moments, before sighing and shaking his head. Turning around, he motioned for Fuji to follow him to court A to do their rally.
Watching the stoic youth's back, Fuji chuckled in a wave of something he didn't really know—was it sadness? Hope? Or relief?
The bespectacled boy didn't give a positive answer. But he didn't give a negative one, either.
Having being glomped and hugged fiercely by Eiji every single day, Fuji had never thought he would get hurt that way someday.
But he did. And in a quite ungraceful manner, too.
Afterschool-practice was about to end, and he was standing next to the ball basket, watching Tezuka discussing something with Oishi, when Eiji's excited "I win, nyaaaah..!!!" erupted from court D. Not even a full-minute later, the red-headed pounced the Tensai on the back forcefully.
And knocked the ball basket over, sending all balls inside to scatter all over the court, and in the middle of chaos—Eiji's surprised exclamation, Oishi's panicked yell, surprised shout from the boys stepping on the ball—while trying to regain his balance with Eiji still perched on his back, Fuji accidentally tripped over a tennis ball.
He thought he could hear the sound of the skin on his elbow scraped against the court's asphalt.
His brain dimly registered Eiji's yelp of shock and panic even before he noticed the blood trickling down his elbow. He'd fallen on his left elbow, scraped it against the asphalt in the process, and the blood—"Oishi! So much blood! Fujiko, are you okay? I'm so sorry!!" Eiji then cried—ran down his hand, staining the green court with splotches of red. The stinging pain forced him to let out a hiss, eyes narrowed in pain.
Voices drifted by; Oishi's "Fuji, Eiji! Are you two okay?" and gasps of "Fuji-senpai! You're bleeding!"—but Fuji quickly put on his serene smile, reassuring the teary-eyed, mortified red-haired third grader that he "will be just fine, Eiji, don't worry. Saa it probably only need some stitches. I tore my skin open, huh?"
"Move. Everybody, back to practice!" a firm voice commanded, and Fuji looked up to see Tezuka kneeling next to him—was it worry peeking out from his hard hazel eyes?—asking, "Fuji, are you okay?"
"I'll be fine. I don't think I sprained anything." Fuji nodded to Eiji. "You'll have to be more careful next time, Eiji."
The horrified and apologizing spark in Eiji's eyes spoke everything. "Fujiko, I'm so sorry, nya…"
Oishi cut in. "We need to et you to the hospital.."
"I will." The bespectacled buchou said, his tone left no objection. "I'll leave everything here to you, Oishi. Fuji, come. Let's clean your wound before we go."
Helping Fuji to stand, Tezuka gestured him to the club room. They went in, and Fuji sat daown while Tezuka retrieved the first aid kit. Kneeling before the Tensai, the bespectacled youth carefully opened a bottle of alcohol and took some cottons. Pouring the alcohol onto the cottons, he began cleaning the bleeding wound.
Fuji hissed as the alcohol made contact with his skin.
"You let yourself get careless."
The stoic, simple statement held a whole lot of emotions in its tone. Fuji forced a smile.
"It won't happen again," the line 'I promise' went unsaid.
The reply was silence.
His bleeding still didn't stop even after Tezuka wrapped his elbow tightly in bandages—ignoring Fuji's chuckle of "It almost looks like Shiraishi, ne?"—so the stoic Bushou hastily put away the first aid kit and stood up. "Get your things. We're going to the hospital. It needs some stitches."
Watching Tezuka moved hastily to gather his own stuff—each movement represented his worry—Fuji's eyes softened, and before he knew it, those three words escaped his throat again.
"I love you," he paused. "Tezuka?"
Tezuka halted, turned around, his hazel eyes gazed upon Fuji for several seconds.
Then he sighed, and shook his head.
Fuji nearly couldn't believe his eyes when Tezuka handed him a ticket to Fujimori Gakuen Culture Festival, and without any kind of formality said, "Nine o'clock, the park. I'll be waiting."
Here they were now—just the two of them—strolling down the neatly-placed stands of food and games, passing numerous couples holding hands or half-embracing each other, and Fuji just couldn't not tease, "Tezuka, is this a date?"
The stoic youth's glare fell upon him and he chuckled in mirth.
They went to see a play—Romeo and Juliet, and Tezuka and Fuji overheard some girls giggling and murmuring what sounded like, "See that cute smiling boy with honey-colored hair over there? I think he'd make a beautiful Juliet, you see.."—had lunch in an animal café—"The one with cat costume reminds me of Eiji," Fuji commented—and even tried several games—in which Tezuka managed to shoot down a beautiful necklace with a dazzling sapphire pendant and shoved it into Fuji's hand—and of course, last but not least, The Haunted House.
The Haunted House was held in the old gymnasium. The guide said that the building hadn't been used since God-Knows-When, and that they should be careful because there was always a possibility that they'd be stuck there forever. They weren't alone when they came in, a lot of couples and groups went in with them, but they quickly broke off and separated to look for the way out by themselves.
As the wooden floor creaked beneath their shoes, Fuji breathed, "Do you think some people actually got stuck here forever, Tezuka?" his smile widened slightly. "The atmosphere felt like it."
As always, Tezuka's answer was silence.
Several deathly pale features suddenly shot up from their right side, attempting in vain to scare the hell out of them, but Fuji only smiled, greeting them and commenting at their costumes, while Tezuka only sent them an icy glare. Some 'ghosts' appeared with even scarier features later on, added with the creepy howling and heartbreaking cry, but instead of turning away and run in trepidation, Fuji laughed and clapped in amusement, as Tezuka threw the 'ghosts' a spare glance and sighed, shaking his head.
"I don't think the exit is far…" Fuji's voice trailed off as his eyes caught a sight of a distinct figure at the far corner of the room—a tall woman clad in a one-piece, shabby white dress with long, black hair falling down to her waist, covering half-of her face, emitting some kind of weird gleam illuminating every inch of her features—and, as if in a trance, he couldn't blink nor breathe.
The figure raised her head to turn to Fuji, a creepy smile blossomed on her deathly pale physiognomy.
Fuji's heart nearly stopped when he saw the still bleeding, empty eye-sockets.
He never heard the cracking sound of a falling wooden-made branch prop right above his head.
The next thing he knew was a strong arm seized his slender waist and pull him back in time before the wooden branch prop hit his head, and his breath hitched as the prop hit the floor instead violently with a loud thud.
The hair on his nape stood. His heart sank as he imagined what'd happen if the prop had hit his head.
"Are you okay?"
Dimly registering the question amidst his shock, his head snapped up to look for the whit figure he had seen.
But the figure had disappeared without any trace.
Had the figure even really been there?
A squeeze on his waist snapped him back to reality, and he choked.
"Breathe, Fuji," the deep voice soothed his frantic-beating heart, penetrating his hazy brain, so he gasped, forcing the air to enter his lungs. That was when he was finally aware of the warmth enveloping his whole being, and, startled, he realized that Tezuka was holding him in a tight-lock embrace from behind.
"Tezu..ka.." he fought down a blush. Tezuka had just saved him. And he had to admit, right now, he was very comfortable. Screw the ghost, or those people watching, or those students of Fujimori Gakuen shouting at each other about the damn broken prop. Tezuka was holding him.
"You're okay," strong, calloused hand found Fuji;s slender one. "Let's get out of here."
Hand in hand, Tezuka literally dragged the Tensai to the exit door, and once they stepped out, momentarily blinded by the sun, Tezuka turned to give his friend a glare that clearly said, "you promised not to let your guard down anymore."
Fuji stared into those hard hazel eyes, and before he knew it, again, the words escaped from his mouth.
"I love you."
The stoic youth blinked once—did his eyes just soften?—before sighing and shook his head. Turning around, he tugged the hand in his once, a sign to start walking. Fuji let a smile settled on his face.
They held hands all along the festival and the way home.
As much as Fuji loved his younger brother, at times, Fuji really wanted to strangle him. No, scratch that, he wouldn't be able to do that to Yuuta. Well, maybe he could settle for giving him his infamous death glare that had scared literally everybody.
Even so, all he did to Yuuta when the younger Fuji came home to grin victoriously at his brother and told Shuusuke that he had planned a so-called blind date for his older brother, was losing his smile completely and put on a blank face.
"A blind date?" he repeated incredulously. "Yuuta, what the heck are you…"
"She's a huge fan of you, so I thought I'd help her." A wicked grin broke on Yuuta's face. "Besides, you always got to tease me. Now, it's my turn," the younger Fuji let out a strangely evil-sounded chuckle, and Fuji had to admit that the mischievous genetics ran deep in his family.
He called Tezuka later on, grumbling about, :I don't remember raising Yuuta to be this… this evil!", told him about the so-called blind date and how unfair it was because "It's not a blind date if my date already knows about me! I'll be the only one who's blind!" and, in the end, after a long sulking, sad, mournful weep-pretending, he voiced out a pleading "Would you stalk me that day, Tezuka?"
The Seigaku Buchou agreed after Fuji countered each and every excuse he gave the Tensai.
Surprisingly, the girl was a girl every boy dreamt of. Beautiful with her long, black hair falling down to her back, feminine with her knee-length, whit skirt with long-sleeved, yellow sweater, bright with her beaming smile and sultry laughter, she told Fuji that she was a rising model from F agency when the Tensai wondered why she looked familiar.
The date was only a casual stroll around the park, thank Kamisama. Fuji sank into his gentleman manners all the while, listening to the girl, laughed when she laughed, buying her drinks, catching her when she slipped, and all those gentle stuff he usually did to girls. They seemed to be having fun, and all other people turned to look at them, admiring at how beautiful the girl was and how handsome her 'boyfriend' was.
"I… I like you, Fuji-kun…" the girl stammered after their date, blushing furiously. "I really like you."
"I like you, too, Minami-san," Fuji replied smoothly. The girl's eyes lit up in hope, her fingers reaching for Fuji's. Smiling, she asked, "Then… would you be my boyfriend?"
Putting his gentlest smile on, Fuji pried away the fingers enclosing his slowly and murmured, "I like you, Minami-san. You're a very…sweet and understanding person. But.." he took a breath. "I love someone else."
The girl's eyes widened in shock, and instantly brimmed with tears.
"I'm sorry." Fuji whispered.
Five minutes later, Fuji found himself on the bench, with a can of ice coffee in his hand. In relief, he opened the can, and was about to take a sip when his eyes caught a familiar figure emerged from the path on his right side.
His smile blossomed as Tezuka walked firmly and took a place on the bench next to his left.
"You came," he muttered softly, taking in his Buchou's appearance fully before turning back to the can in his hand and drank up.
"I promised." Tezuka said dryly, making the ever-smiling Tensai chuckled. "Did you stalk me, though?"
Again, hazel eyes glared at him. "Both of you seemed to be having fun. I saw no necessity for me to… interfere." He cleared his throat.
Fuji gave a cheeky wink. "That's why you didn't snatch me away?"
He earned himself a sharp look from the bespectacled youth for that.
"Anyway, it's over. I'm glad she understood that we can only be friends." The honey-colored-haired youth took another sip. "She's a nice girl, don't you think?"
Tezuka grunted a "Hn."
"I'm also glad you're here." Fuji turned to Tezuka. "Thanks."
Something in Fuji's tone made Tezuka turn to look at his friend. Haze and cerulean locked, and in one breath, Fuji solemnly uttered, "I love you."
There was a three-seconds-silence before Tezuka sighed and shook his head. Fuji's heart sank, but he hid it behind a mirthful, silvery chuckle.
Tezuka stood up. "Let's go walk for a bit." Pausing, he added, "I'll buy you another drink later."
Raising to his feet, Fuji's smile was back perfectly on his face as he followed Tezuka—who was already walking ahead. As he neared, he thought he heard Tezuka mumbled something that sounded like, "would you agree even if your brother told you to marry his friend someday?"
Fuji couldn't be sure if that was what he heard, so he kept silent.
Tezuka didn't pursue it either.
Fuji insisted that he sleptover the honey-haired youth's house for a study session, and again, Tezuka couldn't refuse.
Surprisingly enough, the ever-smiling Tensai had been an image of a good student since he came. They spent the whole afternoon studying Japan Literatures, for once, without Fuji interrupting his explanation with playful remarks. Yumiko had knocked and calle them to dinner. After a brief chit-chat with the Fujis after dinner, they went back to Fuji's room and started studying math—again, without any of Fuji's whim interfering.
It was ten sharp when Tezuka finally declared that they should sleep.
"Aaah.. isn't it tiring?" Fuji stretched languidly when he emerged from bathroom. Tezuka was already in his pajamas, sitting down on a futon laid out for him. Grinning, the Tensai flopped down next to his Buchou. "We should do this more often. I learned a lot."
Tezuka agreed. "Thank you for teaching me."
"You taught me, too, so it's even," Fuji shrugged. Scooting a little closer, he displayed an innocent smile and asked, :Was I a good student?"
"Fuji," there was a warning tone on Tezuka's voice, but Fuji only chuckled, not bothering to scoot away. Almost breathily, he said in Tezuka's ear, "Don't I get any present, Tezuka?"
Was that a faint pink shade on Tezuka's cheeks?
The stoic youth turned away. "We should go to sleep."
"Hai, Tezuka-buchou," the smiling Tensai said cheerfully, watching Tezuka slid down to a laying position. "Sleep well."
There were sound of Fuji's footsteps walking to the switch next to his door, and the the lights were off. Not even fifteen seconds later, Tezuka's exasperated voice grunted, "Fuji."
"Yes?" an amused voice answered.
Silence. Then, Tezuka grumbled, "Get in your own bed."
A silvery chuckle echoed. "My bed is cold," a sly tone was carefully injected into the innocent statement. "It's much, much warmer here. You're a great pillow, buchou."
"You'll make my right arm dead."
The weight on Tezuka's arm lifted, only move to settle back on his broad chest. The stoic buchou hissed in annoyance, "Fuji!"
"Ne, I think I want my present now," Fuji's voice held a dangerously deliberate tone in it, and Tezuka's breath was caught in his throat when slender fingers ran the curve of his jaw teasingly. "What do you have for me, sensei?"
"Stop it, Fuji." Blindly, Tezuka caught the teasing hand. In the darkness, a pair of blue eyes narrowed, and in one swift motion, Fuji rolled on top of his Buchou, gripped his shoulders tight, put his whole weight to restrain Tezuka's movement, and kissed him square on the mouth.
The shorter youth's lips were soft, pliant—but his movement was rough, urgent, forceful, and Tezuka could feel a hint of fear in there. Closing his eyes, Tezuka kissed back—but unlike Fuji's, his movement was gentle, caring, as if trying to calm the Tensai.
It worked. Gradually, Fuji's lips moved softer, gentler, until finally he broke off the kiss and buried his face on the crook of Tezuka's neck.
There was a shuddering breath, then Fuji's soft voice filled the silence, "I love you."
Tezuka sighed. "Fuji.."
"I told you that so many times." Fuji cut in, trying hard so his voice wouldn't shake. "I love you. I said that again and again. But you never gave me an answer. And yet.. and yet you stayed by my side, never rejecting me, protecting me, watching my back, taking care of me.. what do you want, Tezuka?"
Something cold and wet met Tezuka's skin, and the stoic Buchou realized that his friend was crying.
"I tried.. to do what you want.. but how the hell am I going to try if I don't even know what do you want from me? Give me an answer, Tezuka." Fuji demanded, voice rough from raw emotion. "Don't give me empty hopes."
Scooting away, Fuji pushed himself up and sat up. Tezuka squinted his eyes as he also moved to sit up, the dim light from the street light helped him to see Fuji's figure—blue eyes glistening with unshed tears, and his heart sank.
"I'm.. sorry.." Tezuka hesitantly said, staring into those cerulean eyes. "Fuji, I'm sorry."
"I want an answer," Fuji rasped.
Tezuka's lips thinned. "I thought.. you already knew.. my answer."
Fuji blinked owlishly. He gazed at Tezuka's eyes. "I.. do?"
Their eyes locked.
Suddenly, realization dawned on him. That was right. How could he miss them? The way Tezuka's eyes softened to gaze at him after each little confession he blurted out, the way Tezuka sighed and shook his head knowingly, the way Tezuka always kept an eye on him, the annoyance he showed when he met Fuji after the so-called blind date, the way they held hands on the festival, Tezuka's extreme concern for his well-being…
Those signs—they were there all along. Fuji himself had tied up a blindfold on his eyes—too busy keeping the smiling mask in check, too intent on hiding his feelings and emotions, too panic on hos fast his heart was beating—all efforts in vain for Tezuka was always able to see him through.
He missed all those signs for once.
Didn't he pride himself for being ablt to understand the stoic Buchou even without words? Didn't silence between them speak much more? Wasn't that something Eiji once envied them for? The silent understanding?
"Yeah…" as if he had just woken up from a long dream, Fuji murmured. Realization colored his physiognomy. "Yeah…I do…"
A tiny smile appeared on Tezuka's face. He didn't move away when Fuji rested his head on his shoulder and sighed, half in relief, half in contentment.
"Sorry, Tezuka." He murmured, suddenly feeling all embarrassed. "I slipped off."
Strong fingers enclosed his, keeping them in firm hold.
That was all reassurance he needed.
Five sharp. His eyes drifted to his wristwatch, and, exhaling a long breath, he began gathering the scattered papers on the desk. He'd finish the end-of-year student council report at home. Fuji must have been waiting by now.
Eyeing the snow drifting down outside wearily, he carefully put in all the documents into his bag. Shouldering it, he reached for the gray umbrella leaning on the tablefoot, and walked out.
He saw Fuji standing on the porch, holding a black umbrella the Tensai was so fond of since their second year, eyes fixed at the falling snow, as if in a trance.
Hiding a smile, Tezuka put his own umbrella down leaning on the shoe locker before taking even strides towards Fuji. The honey-haired teen turned to greet him with a smile. Gesturing to the snow, he asked, "Do you bring an umbrella, Tezuka?"
"No." Tezuka replied casually, and Fuji gave a mirthful laugh.
"You let your guard down, huh?" there was a knowing tone inserted in the teasing statement. "Well, we just have to share then,"
Opening the umbrella, the two of them fell into steps in the midst of snow. Casual inquiries and replies were exchanged, and when they passed the huge, bare cherry blossom tree, Fuji slowly halted.
"Tezuka?" Their eyes locked, hazel eyes softened. Fuji drank in the sight of Seigaku former Buchou, before opening his mouth. "I…"
"I love you," Tezuka interjected.
Fuji's blue eyes widened brilliantly, before he let out a silvery chuckle and shook his head. A small smile found its way to Tezuka's face, and as they began to walk again, his hand found Fuji's.
Hand in hand, they walked the road home.
A/N: Ah, I think everyone knows perfectly why Fuji's so fond of that black umbrella.. XDDD
Was it too sappy? I want to make an aggressive!Fuji and a gentle but dominating Tezuka. Co-dominance, so I think it's TeFuTe? XDDD aiy-neesan, yosi-san, I hope this is good enough for your birthday fic. I wrote the outline of the story while I'm doing the try out for Economic. XD
Please tell me what you think! Con-crits are luffffffed!!!
Spreading TeFu love,
-isumi'kivic' dan Ilde-