Dystopia
[Oshitari x Fuji, with smattering of OshiFujiAto, some Tango] Like moths to a flame and sheep to the slaughter...something of a comical tragedy. "I'm too old for pretending."
--
A/N: Bday gift for Annie, who wanted Tensai pair, famous Fuji, angst, and a threesome of some kind. The Tango is just there just because. This is already written as a four chapter short story. It's not how I usually write, but I think it's fun to explore new territory. xDD. Happy reading! (Or not, since this is angst...)
I. Oshitari Yuushi: Romantic
Oshitari Yuushi was a helpless romantic. Chivalry, according to him, was certainly not dead, and he let the medieval ideals run his life, although many of his friends thought him foolish for it. But as Oshitari was also a little bit of a dreamer, he could have cared less. Besides, unlike any of the common labels that people were stuck with, the one that was bestowed upon him was tensai. Genius.
He could almost be proud of it.
But as a genius, people expected a lot from him, especially in high school, where adults watched him like hawks, to make sure that his studies were up to par, and friends, to make sure that he lived up to the many nuances that came as prerequisites for the title of genius.
Frankly, Oshitari was not surprised that a genius was expected to be good to be everything, and he was. He was good at everything. He excelled in all of his classes, particularly English Literature and French. He was even somewhat good at sports, after all, he did make the tennis team without trying, and since this was Hyotei Gakuen, this was quite an impossible feat.
Hell, it'd certainly earned him Atobe Keigo's respect. And if a person had Atobe Keigo's respect, they were most certainly somebody.
Atobe Keigo was something of a miracle child. He was the only son of possibly the richest man in Tokyo, and stood poised to take over a billion dollar entertainment franchise with his name stamped on it. He knew countless celebrities, and usually had them over on a whim. Even though these people were a good five six years older than Atobe's still childish eighteen and pretended to take an interest in him, Oshitari could not help but sense a large monetary transaction in the works.
After all, Atobe Keigo viewed everyone and everything as a mere plaything. And whether or not Atobe knew it, his playthings viewed him as easy money. It was not because he was so miraculously glorious atop his gold plated world.
It was just as well. Because even if the celebrities only paid attention to him for his money, he had hordes of worshipers that adored and hailed him for just being ridiculously good looking. He was a man made in the very image of God, An Adonis, with his sun-kissed skin and deep charcoal eyes.
The mole under his left eye was the only mark of his humanity.
Still, Oshitari never got tired of teasing him for it. He liked to tease Atobe, and did so, as often as he could manage. It was his way of telling himself that Atobe's perfection wasn't what he wanted. While everyone else drew to him like helpless moths to a flame, Oshitari's perfect ideal included someone with not a lot of ego, a beautiful smile, and long legs.
--
Though much to Oshitari's chagrin, he wasn't able to completely stay away from Atobe. It made sense that way, Atobe undoubtedly saw him as a challenge, and it was inevitable, that he'd be cornered between two rows of lockers by the captain himself. Even after practice without the aid of a shower, Atobe still smelled good.
But Oshitari told himself not to think about it, because it was not what he wanted. Although even a person of Oshitari's caliber felt a little bit naked wearing only a towel, since he was the one fresh from a shower.
"Tell me something, Oshitari."
He mostly succeeded when he tried not to shudder.
"Why is Ore-sama so repulsive to you?"
Oshitari did not have a real need for his glasses, his vision was perfect and perfect through and through, but he liked the excuse that his lenses afforded him. There was not that much space between him and Atobe, and he didn't like the way that Atobe was staring at him, at all.
And besides, something about this was undeniably off. Oshitari locked up the clubroom and the showers on Thursday, and Atobe really wasn't the type to stay after school, unless there was someone he was after--
Wait.
Pause.
Rewind.
Atobe Keigo really wasn't the type to stay after school, unless there was someone he was after.
The second time sounded exactly like the first time. Oshitari turned it over in his head a third time just for kicks and found a lot of things wrong with that statement. He really wasn't the type to feel conscious, but it wasn't every day that you had Atobe Keigo stare at you like that. However, if you looked at it from another angle, perhaps Oshitari should have expected it, Atobe Keigo chased after anything that walked...and was mildly attractive.
(...Oshitari thought his standards were not all that high, but he was sure Atobe would beg to differ.)
But then again, Atobe was into people who put out. Flaunted themselves. Oshitari didn't really consider himself to be too much of an exhibitionist...even if he tried. It just wasn't his nature.
Oshitari's voice was calm though, as he spoke, "I don't find you repulsive, Atobe."
Atobe for a moment, looked immensely relieved, and because Atobe was relieved, so was Oshitari; but then, Atobe just had to open his stupid mouth and ask, "Why?"
"What do you mean 'why'?" Oshitari tried to inconspicuously adjust the towel that chose the worst time to slip. He was not ashamed of what the towel hid, but he, unlike Atobe, had some sense of dignity.
"You know what I mean when I say why, Oshitari."
"Oh, well." Sneering wasn't something that Oshitari Yuushi was particularly good at, nor was it a facial expression that he really liked to wear. But to think that Atobe Keigo of all people, needed to have everything be spelled out to him. Or maybe Atobe was just that delusional because he'd been led to believe that he was God for most of his life.
"If you must hear me say it, I'll say it. I don't find you repulsive, Ore-sama, but I draw the line at having casual sex with you." Somehow, the words felt very satisfying as he was saying them. Atobe's expression too, changed from mildly disgusted disbelief to dark infuriated wonder.
Wonder, at how someone could resist an offer like that with no strings attached. Wonder, because Atobe was Atobe, and Oshitari usually came around doing something unexpected. But then, was it really unexpected? Oshitari honestly had thought that his captain had more of a reasonable head on his shoulders.
Well, one couldn't be right all the time. Even if others did proclaim Oshitari Yuushi a tensai without his permission.
Yes, it wasn't that he didn't find Atobe absolutely fascinating. He did, but Oshitari found Atobe Keigo interesting in the way that a very rare lizard would have intrigued an eager scientist. His perfection was nothing more than an accidental phenomenon, and that was all. One could almost say that he was a godly error, but still, an error nonetheless.
It wasn't what he wanted, because Oshitari didn't want the ravaging fire that Atobe was, to consume him, too. Everyone drew to him like moths to an irresistible flame.
"Excuse me?"
Oshitari brushed past Atobe to get to his locker. He got dressed, although he tried not to drag it out too long because feel the eyes looking. It just left him slightly disturbed, and it left no prickle on his skin.
"Stop looking at me." And he knew he sounded just a little resentful, as he retied his tie neatly around his collar, "The answer is no, and I'm going to lock up now."
Atobe turned away without much fanfare. He said, "Bye." And left.
--
"You look...perturbed." As usual, Oshitari Kenya just had to choose an obscure word to describe the look on his younger cousin's face, Oshitari didn't exactly know why, but the only sensible explanation that he could come up with was that, well, Kenya was in his first year of college, and apparently, using vocabulary like that helped him grow up.
"Do I really?"
"Yes. You do."
Oshitari sighed, "It's not like I can help it. Anyone would feel a little lost after they reject Atobe's offer for casual sex."
Kenya started a little, "You, of all people, denied Atobe Keigo for casual sex?"
That left him a bit miffed, Oshitari threw his bag down into a vacant armchair and joined his cousin on the couch. Kenya was reading manga, he liked manga, this one was a title that Oshitari didn't recognize, so he figured it must be something new. "What, you think I'd actually let him do it?"
"I expected you to at least consider it before saying anything."
"You better not be saying I'm loose."
"I never said that." Kenya turned a page. "Nor will you ever hear me say it, you're a little bit of a voyeur, though."
Oshitari threw his cousin a sour look.
"What? I'm only telling the truth. All hopeless romantics turn out to be perverts, honestly. Yuushi, you of all people should know."
"And how would you know that?" Somehow, Oshitari found it hard to sit and listen to Kenya preach about voyeurism when his older cousin was clearly absorbed in a manga with a naked woman on the cover. "Won't Shiraishi get mad at you for looking at that?"
Shiraishi Kuranosuke was Kenya's boyfriend, he was older, of course, in graduate school, because for some odd reason, dating older men also made Kenya think that he was grown up. Oshitari thought it was all really stupid. But Oshitari had met Shiraishi once over a family gathering and deemed him a nice enough person.
"Looking at what?"
"Naked women."
"He doesn't have to know, and I trust that you won't tell him." Kenya proceeded to flip another page, looking supremely unconcerned, "...I'm thinking of inviting him over for dinner, would you mind?"
"Not going to be home." Oshitari replied shortly, "I have a babysitting job for a brat across the street. Just clean up after yourselves, Mom gets mad, you know, you mess up all the good sheets."
--
To make a long story short, the conversation with Kenya did nothing to steady Oshitari's nerves, and the only reason that he had nerves at all, was because Atobe Keigo was nothing short but the most powerful figure in school. He was sure things would be different in University, but somehow, the months that blocked him from graduation dragged endlessly.
But luckily for him, tennis practice was held without much fanfare, and Oshitari didn't have an opportunity to meet Atobe Keigo face to face, and that Thursday, he slipped the club key to Kabaji.
However, come next next Friday, he wasn't that lucky.
Atobe had cornered him on the way to the history classroom, it wasn't a subject that Oshitari particularly liked, the professor was as old as the subject he taught.
"I need a date to a premiere tonight. Come with me."
And of course, it had been deliberate. A lot of people turned heads, predictably, as Atobe said, "I need a date." Oshitari heaved a sigh, how immature, really. Atobe must have known that Oshitari wouldn't refuse him like that, with a crowd watching. Quite a few of the spectators were glaring at him, actually. They didn't think he knew his place, after all, it wasn't every day that Atobe-sama would deign to bless someone who wasn't taken by his grace.
"This Friday, tonight?" He asked delicately, making it a point to avoid all the gazes pointed at him.
"Yes, this Friday, tonight."
Atobe sounded smug. Because he knew, as well as Oshitari did that he wouldn't be refused in front of a crowd.
"How come you never give me time to prepare for these things?"
"Honestly, you sound like you're doing ore-sama some big favor..." Atobe huffed.
Oshitari just smirked at him, it was wholly Atobe's own fault, really. He could have easily asked anyone with a sensible head in Hyotei. Served him right, that was what he got for being bullheaded and forcing Oshitari to go.
"I"ll go, it's just I wish you'd told me ahead of time."
Because he had won, Atobe Keigo's expression almost managed to look halfway apologetic, and his smile was deceptively generous. "Sorry, slipped my mind. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty."
--
"You look..." Kenya pursed his lips and gave Oshitari a critical once over. "...Distraught?"
Oshitari bit back something extremely rude and rolled his eyes at his cousin snuggled cozily on the couch with Shiraishi Kuranosuke's head pillowed in his lap. "I"m not distraught. Besides, why can't my unpleasant expression be related to what I'm seeing right now?" Actually, his cousin and Shiraishi weren't doing much, but the fact that they still were here in broad daylight...
"You're just jealous." Kenya smirked at him.
"Kenya, it's not very nice to tease your cousin like that."
Because Shiraishi Kuranosuke just had to go out of his way to be the nice guy. But this was one of the very few times that Oshitari didn't want to punch him for it.
"Whatever."
"Honestly, admit it." Kenya called after him, "You're just cranky because you're not getting any."
Oshitari stopped, for a moment, he wanted to remind Kenya that when you were out with Atobe Keigo, it was impossible not to get any. But then, snagging a date with Atobe Keigo was not a glorious thing, in his honest opinion, so he saved his breath.
"Whatever." he said again.
--
After much agonizing over what to wear, Oshitari decided on a trim dark shirt and fit jeans. Atobe never told him he had to put on a suit. And even if he looked good in one, it wasn't in his nature to lock himself inside the prison of a suit unless he couldn't help it. And when Atobe's sleek car did pull up in front of his driveway, Atobe didn't say anything.
"Why do you do this to me?" He asked tentatively as he buckled his seatbelt.
"Because it's fun, and Ore-sama likes to watch you squirm." Atobe backed the car out into the road again, looking supremely smug.
Oshitari sighed.
That, and Atobe didn't know when to stop when he wasn't wanted.
It was so pathetic, that Oshitari didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise.
--
The premiere was held in a small private theater downtown, Atobe had filled him in on the details of the movie as he drove. It was a small independent film that didn't get a lot of media press, but because Atobe was such a good friend, and knew most of the actors personally, it only made sense for him to go.
The movie 'Falling' starred a struggling couple, the wife was pregnant, and six years older than her husband, a high school dropout, who killed himself in the end. Given all of the romantic comedies flooding the mainstream market these days (not that Oshitari was complaining) he could certainly see why the media had left 'Falling' well alone. He didn't recognize the name of the film's lead actress, but he certainly recognize the leading actor.
"You didn't tell me that Fuji Syusuke was acting in 'Falling'." He looked to Atobe, somewhat accusingly.
Atobe's reply was an ever victorious smirk, "Well, that was technically my ace if you really did throw a hissy fit. But, alas, you found me out." And of course, he didn't sound bothered at all.
Oshitari sighed, he had already thrown the night to the winds, deciding that it was ultimately going to be disastrous, but to think that Fate thought enough of him to dangle Fuji Syusuke in front of him. Or maybe Fate was just a bitch that wanted to stir up trouble.
Fuji Syusuke was a small time actor, but to Oshitari, he felt like an enigma even though his eyes were clear and blue. He took on small roles in television dramas that Oshitari, Kenya, and sometimes Shiraishi stayed up watching. His characters were always there for comic relief, and he always got a happy ending.
His private life was something of a mystery too, more often than not, he denied interviews and rarely did anything noteworthy outside of the shooting studio. He guarded his life, with his life, and Oshitari found that, if anything, admirable.
"Do you know him well?" Oshitari asked, snapping his seatbelt free.
"We're friends." Atobe answered airily with a satisfied smirk, as if that was a given, and of course Fuji Syusuke gladly accepted his token of friendship without question. If that really were the case, Oshitari felt sorry for Fuji Syusuke. He simply didn't know any better.
"I get to meet him today, right?"
Atobe tossed him another look, a look that berated him for asking stupid questions, "Well, obviously. You're ore-sama's date, after all."
--
Even though Oshtari told himself that he wouldn't wear the evening title proudly, he had to admit that being able to hang on Atobe's arm had many perks, for one thing, he got to wear an expression almost as high and mighty as Atobe's as his friend led him around like a proud peacock showing off his feathers.
He'd hung around Atobe too long, Oshitari decided (because he was almost disappointed that there were no big namers present), as Atobe marched him towards the concession stand, where there were none-alcoholic cocktails waiting—but why would such a drink be available when everyone present was legal.
Except for Atobe. And himself.
The only explanation that Oshitari could come up with, as he sipped from a thin glass, was that Atobe's reach extended to fearful heights. It would be well for Oshitari and everyone else to keep Atobe on their good side.
"How's your drink?" Atobe prodded him.
"Good." Oshitari said noncommittally. "It's very..." he paused, and suddenly he wished he had Kenya's vocabulary, "Minty."
Atobe gave him a look.
"Right."
"Sometimes, I wonder why I bother." Atobe muttered more to himself. Oshitari sighed, he also wondered why he bothered.
"You're such a dork, Oshitari."
To which Oshitari said nothing. Sure, there was a lot of things he could have said, starting with why Atobe Keigo would consent to let a dork be flaunted on his arm, and why would he go through so much trouble to ensnare the said dork? It was all a mystery, really. Unless Atobe really did find him appealing...and Oshitari almost blanched at the thought.
"Hey, Sanada, Fuji's around, right?"
Oshitari pulled himself from his thoughts and found Atobe talking to a figure that also didn't enjoy the limelight, but because of his profession, had to work under it most times. It was Sanada Genichirou, one of the most successful agents as employed by Atobe Entertainment. He was a serious man who originally planned to be a doctor, but ended up as a dog chasing cars.
Why he had wasted his life doing something like this...
"He's around here somewhere. Probably in one of the rooms sulking." Sanada said blandly, looking the two of them over. Oshitari knew what the both of them looked like, but he hoped that Sanada's thoughts didn't go there.
"Oh, thanks." Atobe turned to go, and then he stopped, as if suddenly remembering something, "You haven't met my date yet, have you? This is Oshitari Yuushi." He said proudly, as if showing off some newly acquired trinket—and Oshitari almost wanted to punch him.
"And Oshitari, this is Sanada Genichirou, one of our most successful agents."
This time, Oshitari thought that Atobe sounded like a proud antique dealer showing off an old chair. Sanada's brows furrowed and he just had to wonder if Sanada was thinking the same thing.
But Oshitari, although he was not the elite socialite that his date for the evening was, knew enough to savage things, he gave Sanada a tentative smile and a firm handshake, "It's nice to meet you. Atobe's told me a lot."
"Oh, really?" Somehow, Sanada's voice is void of all humor and Oshitari had a feeling that he hit a sour note somewhere.
But Atobe was dragging him away, "Let's go find Fuji."
--
Fuji Syusuke on television looked glamorous. He had curves like a girl, and he stole episode, after episode with a charming smile and baby blue eyes.
Fuji Syusuke in real life looked...worn out. He couldn't have been that much older than Oshitari, but the blue eyes that had so enthralled him on television was unfathomably sad. This was a premiere and he was technically here in the flesh, so Oshitari could understand why he didn't shine like Oshitari was used to seeing him.
They had given him an office-like space to use as a dressing room of sorts, and now, he had his head down on a desk.
"Oi, Fuji." Atobe closed to door behind him and peered over the figure slumped in the chair.
"Go away."
Fuji Syusuke sounded very sweet and nonchalant on television, now, he just sounded drained, and Oshitari thought he needed a nice, stiff drink.
"The premiere officially starts in thirty." Atobe said in a no-nonsense voice, "Don't you think it's in your best interest to go out there and socialize with the press?"
"I fucking hate the press. And I won't go out clinging to you."
Fuji Syusuke never sounded spiteful on television. Except that one time that the character Shuji had pushed his character Akira down the stairs in Nobuta wo Produce. And even then, he had only managed to sound annoyed, it wasn't anything near spiteful. And the swear rolled almost effortlessly off of his tongue.
Oshitari watched Atobe's lips curl into a smirk.
"Even if you want to cling to me, you can't." The other's grip on his arm tightened.
"I brought a date with me today. Unfortunately for you. This is Oshitari Yuushi."
--
The sharp piercing blues bore suddenly into Oshitari's own eyes, making him feel dizzy. The feeling was so intense that, for a moment, he forgot about Atobe's nails digging into his arm. Fuji gave him a long look.
"Ah? Are the two of you dating?"
Dating Atobe, Oshitari would rather descend to the seventh layer of hell, "No, we're not." He said, the same time Atobe said, "Yes, we are."
Fuji looked confused for a moment, and then he was amused. Amused Fuji was one that Oshitari recognized, yet somehow, this expression didn't seem quite as natural as it should be.
Atobe's grip tightened on his arm, "We are." he repeated, in a voice that reminded Oshitari of a brat on a verge of a tantrum.
When Atobe sounded like that, Oshitari found it wholly amusing, but he also knew that having Atobe in a bad mood would lead to him having a lot of accidents that he normally wouldn't have at school. Things like his homework disappearing, his locker jammed...Atobe was just immature like that.
So he didn't say anything.
Atobe smiled sweetly at him then, and dared to lean over to peck him on the cheek. Oshitari flinched and tried not to punch him. Meanwhile, Fuji Syusuke was laughing at them.
Seeing Fuji laugh made Oshitari feel better.
And fortunately, Fate smiled down upon him and issued a second intervention: Atobe's cell phone ringing. "Mother? Well, I did tell you." His voice held undisguised irritation, as if nothing went his way today. (Maybe because nothing had?) "Who am I with? With Oshitari and I'm at the premiere. I did tell you."
Fuji spoke then, "Atobe-san. If you could, please take your rant outside. My head hurts enough without your nagging as it is."
Oshitari just stared. No one. No one dared to speak to Atobe like that, not even Oshitari himself. And of course Atobe never obeyed anyone who dared to use such a condescending tone with him.
But instead of throwing a fit, as Oshitari fully expected him to, Atobe merely threw Fuji a baleful, wounded look, and stalked outside.
--
And then he was alone. With Fuji Syusuke. Who wasn't quite who Oshitari had expected him to be in a million years. For one thing, Fuji Syusuke didn't always have a smile on his face like he had on television, he was tired, and he had snapped at Atobe.
"Do you want to sit down?" Fuji asked him, "You look pale."
"I...um." For once, Oshitari was speechless. "I do?"
"Yes."
For a long moment, he didn't say anything, and Fuji's look melted into a mildly amused one, mild enough that Oshitari wondered if he was being laughed at again. "Well, you do, but it's not because..." He trailed off again, "Let's try again, would you like to sit down?" To accompany that, he smiled a bright, disarming smile—so bright it almost seemed false.
Oshitari sat. Fuji peered up at him from the desk.
"You aren't...really going out with Atobe, are you?"
"No." Oshitari looked down at his hands, "I was blackmailed into coming, sort of. But don't tell him I said that."
"Blackmailed into coming?" Fuji sounded genuinely curious, "How so?"
Oshitari hesitated, he was eighteen, and the information that he scrounged on Fuji Syusuke told him that the guy was twenty one, a full three years older, or...rather, five and a quarter. He suddenly felt small and childish.
"I was going to history, and then Atobe just had to ask me in front of a whole bunch of people. Of course I had to say yes."
"Or else?"
"Or else, my research paper might mysteriously disappear next Monday, or my locker might be jammed." But Oshitari was quick to defend himself, "It's not to say I can't deal with all that, I just don't feel like it."
"So you feel sorry for him, is that it?" Fuji asked.
"Something like that...yeah, maybe." Oshitari said with a noncommittal shrug.
There was silence, Fuji broke it carelessly by heaving a loud sigh. "Is there a lot of media out there?"
"There's a couple of magazines, mostly tabloids, and some people that run celebrity blogs." Oshitari closed his eyes, struggling to remember, he hadn't been paying a lot of attention to that. "Not that many."
"Oh. Good." Fuji straightened and stood. He wore a suit with no tie. The first couple of buttons were left undone to expose his pale throat. "Atobe-san had me worried for a second, but then, I guess Genichirou always keeps his word when he said I didn't have to worry too much about the press. I guess I must annoy him a lot though."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because..." Fuji walked to the door and settled one hand on the knob, "It'd be kind of like I'm Atobe, and Genichirou is you. Something like that."
"You shouldn't lower yourself to Atobe's level. Seriously."
"I'd call you a liar, but not today. I'm in a bad mood." Fuji leaned up and kissed the shell of his ear. Oshitari bit back a flinch. But this time, it was the pleasant kind. "Just for today, thank you, you're a sweetheart and Atobe is lucky to have you."
"He doesn't have me." Oshitari mumbled, "I told you, we're not dating."
"Of course you aren't. If you were, I feel like it's in my best judgment to give Atobe a good talking to." Fuji laughed, but again, the sound choked in his throat, though Oshitari didn't think that Fuji actually noticed.
"Come on, it's eight...I know that I'd be the one receiving the good talking to if I'm late to my own premiere...even though Genichirou knows I hate these things." Almost unconsciously, his hand had laced through Oshitari's own without him knowing.
"Oh, one more thing, do you mind if I call you Yuushi? You can call me Syusuke, if you'd like."
"I don't mind at all." Oshitari smiled at Fuji, although the seeds of uneasiness were planted in the back of his mind because he was a thorough person in all ways. Whether Atobe would mind or not...was another story altogether.