Author's notes and warnings: Meep! I am very nervous! This is my first Prince of Tennis fic, so please be kind. ; Okay, okay…if it sucks you can be honest and tell me…cringes
This story takes place in Germany, a little while after the boys visited Tezuka. It's written in Tezuka's POV – third person. Oo;; I have some knowledge of pool but not an awful lot so if I missed or screwed up something, please let me know. This story is inspired by the very to-die-for picture of Tezuka playing pool.
Pairing: Tezuka x Fuji (or if you look really hard, Fuji x Tezuka) ;
Rate: PG-13…I think. Mention of one sexual act but none actually occurred…they are only 14! Some insinuations but very mild.
Sap, sap, sap…mindless, pointless sap…well sorta.
Summary: Set in Germany after the Seigaku team's visit. Tezuka is remembering some very provocative dialogues… laughs No, he's not schizophrenic! Not yet, anyway…
Disclaimer: I don't own them…
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Thoughts of You
By Moonraven
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"Tezuka, come choose your cue."
Tezuka glanced at his friend who was perusing the rack on the wall next to their pool table before turning back to scan the room. It was the same yet it was completely different. He blinked at the scene in front of him and could almost see his friends scattered around the pool table laughing at something one of them – most probably Eiji – had said.
He turned away and went to join Hans at the rack. His friends were no longer there. They went back to Japan two and a half weeks ago.
He picked a cue off the rack almost absently and tested the weight. Too light. He put it back and grabbed another one. Too many scratches.
"Want to feel my stick, Tezuka?"
Tezuka paused. That voice belonged in Japan as well. He finally settled on one that he thought was the best then went to wait by the table while Hans racked the balls.
Tezuka's eyes fell on the small cube of chalk on the side of the table and he picked it up carefully. He scrutinized the tip of his cue then proceeded to chalk it.
"Ne, Tezuka…are you going to hog that chalk all day?"
He slowly put down the chalk and willed his mind back to the present. Hans was done racking and turned to Tezuka expectantly.
"Do you want to break?"
Tezuka shook his head. The tall German shrugged then turned back to the table, lined his cue and made his shot – then cursed softly, looking sheepishly over his shoulders at Tezuka.
The break was a foul but it didn't matter to Tezuka. He had the choice of breaking them himself or just…
"Go with the flow, Tezuka."
Tezuka swallowed. Part of him wanted the legal break shot yet the lure of that voice…
"Keep it," Tezuka told him and walked up to take his shot. The German may have looked powerful and could usually play a decent game of tennis; but a pool player, he was not.
"Stop looking at my balls, Tezuka."
Tezuka blinked at the memory of that mischievously husky voice. Focus, he told himself and studied the table. His concentration was usually much better than this.
"7-ball, side pocket."
Soft laughter. "Always solid…as a rock, ne, Tezuka?"
Had he chosen solid again? Tezuka frowned but it was too late. The cue ball struck a stripe ball, which in turn hit the 7-ball, rolling it neatly into the side pocket just as he'd called it.
"Good shot, Tezuka!" Hans cheered.
Tezuka lined up his cue for another shot. "3-ball, corner pocket."
"Bet you three blow jobs that you can't pocket that ball."
Tezuka pocketed the ball without batting an eye. He did it then and he did it now. Not because he wanted the blowjob, they hadn't gone that far yet. It was because…he had called it.
The other boy hadn't really meant it anyway; it was one of those games he liked to play. Testing Tezuka's limit had always been one of the tensai's favorites.
Not that they wouldn't get to that point eventually. They were very close in fact, and had Tezuka stayed in Japan…
Tezuka frowned again. Tonight he couldn't seem to concentrate. His mind was definitely on something else.
Still, Tezuka won all the rounds they had agreed to play. He finished them quickly; he really needed to take care of something else.
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. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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The phone hardly rang before it was picked up. He'd slept with his phone again, Tezuka thought.
"Moshi-moshi."
Tezuka felt a strange tugging in his chest at the sound of the voice.
"Fuji." Tezuka hoped that his voice was steadier than his breathing.
"Tezuka." Fuji's sleep slurred voice perked up and Tezuka could clearly picture the alluring smile he heard in the greeting. "I'm glad you called."
"Aa."
"How was your day?"
"Okay." Well, up until the last hour or so. "I went back to the billiards hall with a friend."
"Mmmm…was he good looking?" Fuji's voice was filled with mirth. Even at three in the morning.
"Yes," Tezuka replied honestly and Fuji laughed.
"Should I be jealous?"
"No."
"Mmmm…" Fuji murmured and Tezuka could imagine Fuji stretching, his pajama top riding high on his firm stomach. Tezuka swallowed.
"Did you win?"
"Yes."
Fuji chuckled softly, making Tezuka wish for a hundredth time that he wasn't in Germany.
"Tell me about it," Fuji commanded softly and Tezuka did.
Fuji laughed again. "Three games in…what…thirty eight minutes? How did you ever manage it?"
Tezuka thought about why he'd called…
He smiled.
"I was thinking of you."
End…