interlude; Prince of Tennis, Fuji/Ryoma/Tezuka
Fuji/Ryoma/Tezuka. Echizen attempts to confront Fuji about his flirting. It backfires in perhaps the best way possible.
(I don't know why I've written nearly 600 words of Fuji/Ryoma/Tezuka near-smut. It must have something to do with my dream last night wherein Fuji & Ryoma sucked face to see what reaction Tezuka would give; who would he be more jealous of? ;) )
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Fuji is changing in the locker room when Echizen enters. His tennis uniform shirt is being raised up over his head and tossed onto the bench, and Echizen can't speak at all during the time Fuji rummages through his bag for his school shirt and slips it up his arms onto his shoulders.
"Fuji-senpai..." He begins uncertainly.
"Yes, Echizen-kun?" Fuji turns halfway round to face Echizen, shirt only buttoned by the second button from the top, showing off a slightly toned set of abs and a pierced navel. This accounts for the glint of silver Echizen thought he was only imagining every time Fuji's shirt lifted for a moment during one of his matches.
"We're alone." Echizen half states this as fact, because he knows it is so, and half as a question, to be sure Fuji knows it too. "You've been flirting with me more recently," he says, throwing himself into what he has to say so as not to lose his confidence, "you flirt with a lot of people, a lot of the time, but it's been different with me the past week or so."
"Ah, is that so?" Fuji asks, finishing buttoning up his shirt, and sitting down on the bench. "Why do you suppose that is then, Echizen-kun?" He pats the seat next to him, offering Echizen a place to sit so that they might discuss this. Fuji is looking too amused, and Echizen wants to wipe the smirk off his face. He starts to walk forwards, looking dead on at Fuji and not pausing until he is straddling Fuji's hips all of a sudden, and slams a hand unceremoniously into Fuji's lap.
"Aa," Fuji says, looking up a little to meet Echizen's eyes, and smiling. His hand creeps behind Echizen's neck, and pulls him forward into a searing hot kiss.
If Echizen thought this was a problem, and he was going to solve it with assertiveness, he soon discovers just how wrong that assumption was. Fuji's kiss is messy, hungry; utterly devouring, as though he intends to take you completely whole and keep you locked up inside himself. It makes Echizen's head spin, and so he does not hear the door to the locker room open, though Fuji does, and breaks the kiss, leaning his head back against the wall.
"Tezuka," he says, and the name sounds completely different coming from his lips than it does from any other; like honey and lemon together. He offers out a lazy hand in welcome, and a gesture towards Echizen. "I got you that thing you wanted."
"I see." Tezuka replies, and closes the door behind him without turning back to do so. Echizen hears the sound of clothing hitting the floor; he does not dare turn round to see if Tezuka-buchou is undressing. He watches Fuji's smile get more dangerous, sees his eyes flick up to Tezuka's level when he feels body heat near his back. It's a little like granting permission.
Echizen can't help but glance upwards, straight into Tezuka's unimpressed face. And then Tezuka's lips claim his own, and he is glad for Fuji's hands having made their way to his hips to hold him steady, else he feels he might break in half leaning that far back. They make a good team, he thinks to himself absently, and then is lost in the kiss.
Where Fuji's kiss was devouring, Tezuka's is simply possessive. Where one would seek to preserve you deep down inside, the other simply seeks to claim all of you, every part with no exception.
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(I don't know why I've written nearly 600 words of Fuji/Ryoma/Tezuka near-smut. It must have something to do with my dream last night wherein Fuji & Ryoma sucked face to see what reaction Tezuka would give; who would he be more jealous of? ;) )
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Fuji is changing in the locker room when Echizen enters. His tennis uniform shirt is being raised up over his head and tossed onto the bench, and Echizen can't speak at all during the time Fuji rummages through his bag for his school shirt and slips it up his arms onto his shoulders.
"Fuji-senpai..." He begins uncertainly.
"Yes, Echizen-kun?" Fuji turns halfway round to face Echizen, shirt only buttoned by the second button from the top, showing off a slightly toned set of abs and a pierced navel. This accounts for the glint of silver Echizen thought he was only imagining every time Fuji's shirt lifted for a moment during one of his matches.
"We're alone." Echizen half states this as fact, because he knows it is so, and half as a question, to be sure Fuji knows it too. "You've been flirting with me more recently," he says, throwing himself into what he has to say so as not to lose his confidence, "you flirt with a lot of people, a lot of the time, but it's been different with me the past week or so."
"Ah, is that so?" Fuji asks, finishing buttoning up his shirt, and sitting down on the bench. "Why do you suppose that is then, Echizen-kun?" He pats the seat next to him, offering Echizen a place to sit so that they might discuss this. Fuji is looking too amused, and Echizen wants to wipe the smirk off his face. He starts to walk forwards, looking dead on at Fuji and not pausing until he is straddling Fuji's hips all of a sudden, and slams a hand unceremoniously into Fuji's lap.
"Aa," Fuji says, looking up a little to meet Echizen's eyes, and smiling. His hand creeps behind Echizen's neck, and pulls him forward into a searing hot kiss.
If Echizen thought this was a problem, and he was going to solve it with assertiveness, he soon discovers just how wrong that assumption was. Fuji's kiss is messy, hungry; utterly devouring, as though he intends to take you completely whole and keep you locked up inside himself. It makes Echizen's head spin, and so he does not hear the door to the locker room open, though Fuji does, and breaks the kiss, leaning his head back against the wall.
"Tezuka," he says, and the name sounds completely different coming from his lips than it does from any other; like honey and lemon together. He offers out a lazy hand in welcome, and a gesture towards Echizen. "I got you that thing you wanted."
"I see." Tezuka replies, and closes the door behind him without turning back to do so. Echizen hears the sound of clothing hitting the floor; he does not dare turn round to see if Tezuka-buchou is undressing. He watches Fuji's smile get more dangerous, sees his eyes flick up to Tezuka's level when he feels body heat near his back. It's a little like granting permission.
Echizen can't help but glance upwards, straight into Tezuka's unimpressed face. And then Tezuka's lips claim his own, and he is glad for Fuji's hands having made their way to his hips to hold him steady, else he feels he might break in half leaning that far back. They make a good team, he thinks to himself absently, and then is lost in the kiss.
Where Fuji's kiss was devouring, Tezuka's is simply possessive. Where one would seek to preserve you deep down inside, the other simply seeks to claim all of you, every part with no exception.
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