Taking Time
Fuji smiled at him. Tachibana opened his mouth, seeking any words that could stop Fuji from leaving. None came and he watched Fuji depart. Back to Tezuka, Tachibana knew.
When Tezuka came home, first for once, there were three messages. The phone gave off a repetitive annoying beep. Tezuka ignored it, walking to the kitchen to put away the groceries.
The time went too quickly. Tezuka stared at his hands, at the clean and tidy kitchen. The phone beeped again. Tezuka frowned.
When Fuji came home, late again, there were no messages. He didn't glance at the phone, just walked quickly past it. He smiled when he saw Tezuka reading on the couch.
"I brought take out for dinner," Fuji said, hefting two plastic bags.
Tezuka nodded, grabbing one of the bags. He didn't ask why Fuji was late.
They ate dinner with sparse talk of their days. It was comfortable.
Comfortable as it ever would be with Fuji. But Tezuka knew that. Liked it. Wanted it. Still needed it. Tachibana had no business in Fuji. It would disrupt what Tezuka and Fuji had. Tezuka wouldn't have that.
Fuji smiled at him. Tezuka knew that this what was right. He knew Fuji's smiles.
They had sex on the couch, take out containers and trays spread out around them. Tezuka held on Fuji's hips, shoulders, neck but Fuji managed to slip out of his hands, ever elusive.
When they were finished Fuji lay back into Tezuka's arms, just like that. Tezuka didn't hold too tight.
