Author's Note: This is my first TEFU fic. Fuji was in the corner of my mind sitting all depressed and I can't ignore him any longer. I tried to shove him to the closet but his depressing vibes is getting to me. So this is the product. This for ya'll who practically worship the ground TEFU walks on. High Five!

Here Comes Goodbye

Relationships?

Connections?

If they had one, theirs would be a cycle of hellos and goodbyes. He was contented because HE liked it like that. Although there was no validation that this is what he really wanted, it was the arrangement they have gotten used to for a good three years now.

A cycle is a loop. Continuously taking the same path and doing the same things. Mundane for some, heaven and happiness for him. A cycle means that if there are 'goodbyes', you can guarantee that there's going to be a 'hello' sooner or later. And that was enough. Having these small moments with him was enough.

He will take him whatever way he can have him.

Commitments were never made, promises never uttered. They were the same on the outside—the brilliant photographer considered to be a genius and the promising tennis superstar who's slowly taking over the world.

But in the bubble of their own little world in the confines of his apartment, they were just… them. No titles, no grandeur… and no expectations.

He knew him best.

He, on the other hand, understood him most.

Their connection was special because of the understanding they have. And because of that, their cycle stayed on its course, fulfilling its purpose.

In between the sweet talks, verbal sparring, teases and hot nights, there's nothing more that they need. They were satisfied, contented and sated.

All things were good. But apparently, good things come to an end. Nothing's permanent. Habits need to change. And cycles? Even cycles were meant to be broken.

Fuji sat in the far corner of his darkroom with his arms on his knees and his head placed in between the connection of his two arms, slouched depressingly on the floor. He was in the inner area of his darkroom where his most precious photographs were located—his other place of solace.

Photographs… he has taken so many of it. And sold most of what he has taken. He was renowned for his natural skill and eye for beauty. But no matter how much each photo was recognized and revered, the subjects would never hit the same impact as the one in his inner room does.

"Tezuka…"

He had long confirmed that there would be nothing as beautiful as this man for his eyes. Nothing would ever come close. In the three years they were connected to each other and the six years he has known the man, he also developed the ultimate technique on how to get elusive Tezuka Kunimitsu in front of his lens without the other actually knowing.

It was a challenge at first, one he accepted with great enthusiasm. It wasn't long before he found the perfect method. It gave him leverage for the perfect angles, perfect frame… perfect shots.

He should be satisfied. The greatest challenge for him as a photographer was overcome. But he found himself longing for more. More than longing, it became a need. And so, the inner sanctum of his darkroom was occupied by dozens and dozens of his most prized photographs… his photographs.

Ah… the good times. He found his outer corner of his lips curving upwards at that. Despite his feelings right now, the thought of him and everything they've been through together brings happiness and warmth.

He raised his head and lifeless cerulean eyes scanned the entire corner. The photographs were all he ever owned. But the man in the pictures was never his.

It pained to admit that. And every time he was reminded of this predicament, he can't help but feel empty.

The moment he admitted to himself that he feels something for the taller boy, he also knew that there was nothing else in the end for him. He completely surrendered his heart without any guarantees it would be accepted. Not that he said anything clearly about it.

Maybe he did? Once… a long time ago…

Flashback

"Tezuka!" Fuji moaned as the other growled with his final trust that sent both of them towards an earth-shattering climax. Both of them were panting and covered in glistening sweat while trying to recover from the high they were previously in. He was basking on the afterglow when the taller boy slowly pulled out of him and the muscled yet leaned figure slumped to his side.

Fuji felt Tezuka wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him closer. "That was the third time you woke me up tonight Tezuka… is something the matter?" He kept his eyes glued at the ceiling while he asked the question.

It took several seconds of silence before he decided to turn his head towards the hazel-eyed boy. And it also took several seconds more for him to realize that he'd never get any answer.

Not that he expected it anyway. It's always like this. They let each other in but not too close. He wanted to open up to Tezuka and share more than what his body could offer but he couldn't. He was scared to let another person in, but it wasn't the reason. If it was Tezuka, even if he's terrified, he would still willingly do it.

But the barrier Tezuka surrounded himself with is not actually repelling Fuji, it kind of makes him put up the same barrier of his own. To be wary the same way the other is being cautious.

So he never pushed for details when it's not voluntarily given. He had learned to content himself with the things he could actually have.

Several minutes passed and he could hear the even breathing beside him. Slowly, Fuji inched his head closer to the other boy's face and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Having Tezuka embrace him is something reassuring, this he thought while slowly loosening the arms around him.

Slowly getting up, removing the arm wrapped around him and instantly missing the warmth of the body next to him, he reached for his Canon PowerShot G1 X. Despite the strong need to go back and cuddle, this has to be done.

"You let your guard down, Tezuka..." He softly smiled and took the picture with the hopes of forever immortalizing the beauty he's currently seeing before his eyes. Though it's never going to do any justice to the perfection of the man beside him, he had to at least remember this moment... if only as a reminder that this happened once and that this was real once.

"It was so ironic how I looked at you hoping for you to look back… but when our eyes met, I looked away because I didn't want you to see how much you affected me… I loved you since then" he said as he gently traced his features.

Maybe it was the dark and serene atmosphere, or maybe the contentment he felt, it could also be because of the beautiful man lying there. Fuji never knew what prompted him to say what it was he felt, he just knew it felt right.

He didn't noticed when he stood up from his slumped position on the floor, but he was now facing the very same picture he took that night. His fingertips trail the contours of Tezuka's face the same way he did before. Even in photo paper and in the crimson-lighted room, he was breathtakingly perfect.

Would there be a next time? Can I still take his pictures even then? He was so sure of the answers before. But when he heard the news, he's no longer sure.

He slowly turned around and saw himself facing the mirror. Behind him, faces of Tezuka was clipped and hung. In this angle, the reflective capacity of each mirror increase the efficiency of the red light, developing pictures faster and at a higher quality.

Lifting his gaze to his reflected eyes, he sees nothing. A small thought made the corner of his lips upward in a lifeless smile. "Cause you never think that the last time would be the last time—you think there'll be more. You think you have forever but you don't" he whispered in a form of soft scolding while moving towards the mirror. Reaching the ledge, he supported himself with his arms and looked at his reflection closely.

"And they call you a genius…. I guess… people do get dumb." It was then that he noticed the faint ringing of his phone from his main room. Eiji must've given up on his cellphone that he's calling the home phone.

Now that he thought about it, how long has he been here? Would he actually go there? Can he put himself through that suffering and pain just to see him? He could. He was a sadist after all. Aside from finding joy in the discomfort of others, he also developed this of putting himself on these situations if only for a small moment with him, a habit he started to develop when he recognized his feelings. The irony of it all.

Putting on his usual mask of a smile and shutting his eyes half-closed for the world not to see, he headed out to the door.

A/N: This first started when I listened to Rascal Flatts' "Here Comes Goodbye". And the story developed especially when a certain Sayame Yuna kept making me listen to depressing songs like "I Know Him So Well". You guys should listen to it, the guy duet version.

What do you think? Hmmm should I change the genre to Tragedy? Reviews anyone?