Fanfiction: ^_^
Fanfiction: ^_^
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Synopsis: When Tezuka goes away on a tennis tour, he and Fuji decide to "chat"
Genre: ZukaFuji
Rating: G/PG
Warnings: CRACK. Or as much crack as I think I can produce without breaking my brain. Emoticons. What happens when cleverlilwill and I have a conversation x.x
Dedication: Once again, to the Willow Tree, because without her, this fanfic wouldn't exist.
.....^_^
Tezuka felt his eyebrows knit at the image now on his computer and a glance to the screen name told him very quickly who it was from. After all, no one else but Fuji Syuusuke would use the name FirstMate0001, though Tezuka knew full well that he had a different one.
Being on tour for tennis had forced his more personal relationships to go on hold, in particular the one with Fuji. However, he had always liked to believe he and Fuji had a relationship grounded on sensations, where words were important for their rarity as much as their meaning. But this seemed to be Fuji's new game and as much as Tezuka hated to admit it, there was something eerily similar to the carrot-underscore-carrot and Fuji's smile.
Contrary to what could be popular belief, Tezuka was not awkward when it came to conversations on the computer. It was just a different sort of communication than what he preferred. He didn't like using it because there was something cold to the keys, the screen, the whirring of the fan cooling the system. He liked letters, the sight of someone's unique handwriting, or a phone call and the sound of someone's voice. Unfortunately, computers were the fastest form of modern communication and there would be the days when he (and Fuji) would yearn for some contact, any way possible.
Sighing, he responded.
***
...yes, Fuji?
A snicker. Oops. He had been found out~
Fuji's smile widened at the words, trying very hard not to grin. Placing a hand to his cheek, he racked his mind on what to send next, now that Tezuka knew it was him. Oh, he could send the more crude images he had figured out how to manipulate on the keyboard. He had sent one to Inui and he was sure it had some effect since he had logged off seconds later. It was interesting what a less-than sign, a three, and a couple of equal signs really could do to a person.
On his desk, photographs lay freshly printed and off the drying rack in a manila folder. The prints were due to the agency tomorrow, but they could wait. On his side of the world, it was daybreak after all, and a few minutes wouldn't make much of a difference. It was becoming more of a routine to take the day with a delay and this time he happened to catch Tezuka with him as well.
Tezuka had responded, when he didn't have to and could have just appreciated the artwork of computer strokes. And like everything between the two of them, it was an initiation to something more. It was a bit of a game now, which Fuji was perfectly fine with playing.
Which he did.
***
( ^.^ > ....[>o.o]>
( ^.^>--------[>O.O]>
(^.^)[o.o]
He didn't get it. At least not quite.
He understood that one of the figures, the round one maybe, was Fuji. But the other one he wasn't too sure what was happening to him.
He would lying if he wasn't a little put off by the cute expressions. He didn't think he was wasting his time, per se, but if he was going to take his time to be online, he'd prefer for Fuji to talk a little more. What he wanted to hear about was how Fuji's life was going and not the little pictures he could make.
It seemed as if he wasn't going to get his wish.
He sighed. Again.
***
...
A wry half smile appeared as the ellipsis crossed the screen.
***
(^_^)>/
...was that a threat? He hardly was about to entertain the thought of Fuji harming him. These little images weren't making much sense to him, as they weren't exactly the most asthetically -
Then again... the slash sign in the "hand" of the picture reminded Tezuka of a time Fuji had the (mis?)fortune to find a bag of feathers in a craft store. With that same expression, he had found out the hard way just how creative Fuji could be with ribbon and a single feather that night. And while logically, he knew that it was still just a slash sign that shouldn't have an effect on him, the image conjured a bit of a pleasant chill to Tezuka's skin as the memory came forward.
He swallowed before flexing his fingers and typing again.
***
Was there something you wanted?
Fuji snickered again, tapping his fingers against the table. How to answer...?
***
>^.^)>
Fuji's smile against the crook of his neck after being embraced flashed in his mind, the sensation coming shortly after. For a second he almost felt the tickling of his hair against his chin as he would shift in his arms.
A hug.
Slowly, and rather unexpectedly, Tezuka found himself feeling a strange pull toward the little images, despite them being absolutely ridiculous. The impersonal feeling started to melt away as he stared at the strange graphic on his screen.
As if hearing his laughter before his response, Tezuka began to type. Less-than, bracket, O....
***
<[o_o]>
Fuji had to stifle his laughter at the picture. Tezuka tried. Tezuka tried. He tried to replicate Fuji's art and while it wasn't perfect, it was still there. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the hint of a blush against Tezuka's cheeks, only reddening when he'd try to kiss it away.
He was touched.
***
>^.^)> <3 <[o_o<]
***
...
Um...Goodnight, Tezuka
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Synopsis: When Tezuka goes away on a tennis tour, he and Fuji decide to "chat"
Genre: ZukaFuji
Rating: G/PG
Warnings: CRACK. Or as much crack as I think I can produce without breaking my brain. Emoticons. What happens when cleverlilwill and I have a conversation x.x
Dedication: Once again, to the Willow Tree, because without her, this fanfic wouldn't exist.
.....^_^
Tezuka felt his eyebrows knit at the image now on his computer and a glance to the screen name told him very quickly who it was from. After all, no one else but Fuji Syuusuke would use the name FirstMate0001, though Tezuka knew full well that he had a different one.
Being on tour for tennis had forced his more personal relationships to go on hold, in particular the one with Fuji. However, he had always liked to believe he and Fuji had a relationship grounded on sensations, where words were important for their rarity as much as their meaning. But this seemed to be Fuji's new game and as much as Tezuka hated to admit it, there was something eerily similar to the carrot-underscore-carrot and Fuji's smile.
Contrary to what could be popular belief, Tezuka was not awkward when it came to conversations on the computer. It was just a different sort of communication than what he preferred. He didn't like using it because there was something cold to the keys, the screen, the whirring of the fan cooling the system. He liked letters, the sight of someone's unique handwriting, or a phone call and the sound of someone's voice. Unfortunately, computers were the fastest form of modern communication and there would be the days when he (and Fuji) would yearn for some contact, any way possible.
Sighing, he responded.
***
...yes, Fuji?
A snicker. Oops. He had been found out~
Fuji's smile widened at the words, trying very hard not to grin. Placing a hand to his cheek, he racked his mind on what to send next, now that Tezuka knew it was him. Oh, he could send the more crude images he had figured out how to manipulate on the keyboard. He had sent one to Inui and he was sure it had some effect since he had logged off seconds later. It was interesting what a less-than sign, a three, and a couple of equal signs really could do to a person.
On his desk, photographs lay freshly printed and off the drying rack in a manila folder. The prints were due to the agency tomorrow, but they could wait. On his side of the world, it was daybreak after all, and a few minutes wouldn't make much of a difference. It was becoming more of a routine to take the day with a delay and this time he happened to catch Tezuka with him as well.
Tezuka had responded, when he didn't have to and could have just appreciated the artwork of computer strokes. And like everything between the two of them, it was an initiation to something more. It was a bit of a game now, which Fuji was perfectly fine with playing.
Which he did.
***
( ^.^ > ....[>o.o]>
( ^.^>--------[>O.O]>
(^.^)[o.o]
He didn't get it. At least not quite.
He understood that one of the figures, the round one maybe, was Fuji. But the other one he wasn't too sure what was happening to him.
He would lying if he wasn't a little put off by the cute expressions. He didn't think he was wasting his time, per se, but if he was going to take his time to be online, he'd prefer for Fuji to talk a little more. What he wanted to hear about was how Fuji's life was going and not the little pictures he could make.
It seemed as if he wasn't going to get his wish.
He sighed. Again.
***
...
A wry half smile appeared as the ellipsis crossed the screen.
***
(^_^)>/
...was that a threat? He hardly was about to entertain the thought of Fuji harming him. These little images weren't making much sense to him, as they weren't exactly the most asthetically -
Then again... the slash sign in the "hand" of the picture reminded Tezuka of a time Fuji had the (mis?)fortune to find a bag of feathers in a craft store. With that same expression, he had found out the hard way just how creative Fuji could be with ribbon and a single feather that night. And while logically, he knew that it was still just a slash sign that shouldn't have an effect on him, the image conjured a bit of a pleasant chill to Tezuka's skin as the memory came forward.
He swallowed before flexing his fingers and typing again.
***
Was there something you wanted?
Fuji snickered again, tapping his fingers against the table. How to answer...?
***
>^.^)>
Fuji's smile against the crook of his neck after being embraced flashed in his mind, the sensation coming shortly after. For a second he almost felt the tickling of his hair against his chin as he would shift in his arms.
A hug.
Slowly, and rather unexpectedly, Tezuka found himself feeling a strange pull toward the little images, despite them being absolutely ridiculous. The impersonal feeling started to melt away as he stared at the strange graphic on his screen.
As if hearing his laughter before his response, Tezuka began to type. Less-than, bracket, O....
***
<[o_o]>
Fuji had to stifle his laughter at the picture. Tezuka tried. Tezuka tried. He tried to replicate Fuji's art and while it wasn't perfect, it was still there. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the hint of a blush against Tezuka's cheeks, only reddening when he'd try to kiss it away.
He was touched.
***
>^.^)> <3 <[o_o<]
***
...
Um...Goodnight, Tezuka