Deadly Sins, a prince of tennis fanfic

Title: Deadly Sins

Fandom: Prince of Tennis

Character(s) or Pairing: Fuji/Yukimura, Kirihara, Yumiko (hints of Tezuka/Fuji, Sanada/Yanagi/Yukimura)

Rating: R

Warnings: Fuji/Yukimura, future!fic, set in high schoool; badly done porn, not much of a plot.

Word Count: 4200

Summary: It's easy when you don't really care about the person you're seeing.

A/N: Written for yet another challenge, covers the sins/virtues: Innocence, Lust, Pride, Gluttony, Guilt, Wrath

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Fuji is not innocent, not in the least: even in middle school, his smiles speak of too much knowledge and too much mischief, his eyes hinting at depths untouched - and most are probably better off for not trying to seek out his knowledge. There are a few who do seek it out, though, out of innate curiosity, a desire to learn what motivates him, a strong sense of masochism, or simply, out of naive innocence.

Fuji has a fondness for those naive innocents, especially the ones who seek him out. He likes his cat and mouse games with the people who know how to play, but there is something to be said for inexperience. It's cute, and amusing, and there is always something to gain. Its great excitement, Fuji knows, and when the opportunity arises for him to play, he never refuses.

Much like now.

Fuji glances over his shoulder, peeking at the boy staring at him in the mostly deserted store, a look of confusion and wariness crossing his face.

"Kirihara-kun," he calls, giving up studying him discreetly in favor of openly approaching the boy. "Aren't you going to say hi? You remember me, don't you?"

"'Course I do," Kirihara mumbles and looks everywhere but at Fuji. "What are you doing here? No one normally comes in here this time of the day."

"Looking for a present," Fuji says. "Isn't that what you're doing?" He gestures toward the book Kirihara held. "Unless you enjoy gardening yourself."

Kirihara scowls at that, although he clutches the book closer to his chest. "I don't. But Buchou-" Realizing he's on the verge of blurting out everything to Fuji Syuusuke, former tennis rival - Kirihara promptly shut up and turns on his heel, marching toward the register.

"You should get your buchou a book about cacti," Fuji calls behind Kirihara. "He might enjoy that."

He doesn't get a response from Kirihara, but then he didn't expect one. He's gotten under Kirihara's skin though, and that amuses him.

The next time he sees Kirihara, they're both at the street courts and Kirihara is easily defeating opponents.

"Shouldn't you be off captaining your practices?" Fuji asks. He's kept up with the new line-ups for the schools, mostly because of Inui and Kikumaru, the former who keeps up for data purposes and the latter who still goes to the middle school campus of their school to pester their former, younger, teammates.

"Practice is over for the day," Kirihara says, although Fuji can tell by the scowl on his face that he wishes that was not so. Fuji simply chuckles and settles back to watch. He has nothing better to do with his time.

Kirihara plays until no one challenges him, which Fuji thinks is a pity and tells him so. Kirihara challenges Fuji, instead.

"Oh I don't play anymore," Fuji tells him. "I have other things to occupy my time with."

There are a host of emotions that cross Kirihara's face, and Fuji wonders if the boy was always that easy to read off the courts. He can't help but smile when Kirihara finally scowls.

"You're not as good as Buchou ever was, so it's not a loss," Kirihara says. "I should have defeated you, though."

"If I am not as good as your buchou, shouldn't you have been able to defeat me?" Fuji asks, still smiling, although his eyes are open slightly.

"Not then." Kirihara's words are slow to leave him, as if he was not used to saying them but knew it was okay. "No one is as good as Buchou, though. Not even your old buchou. But I can beat you now, Fuji Syuusuke." Kirihara swings his racket toward Fuji, stopping in front of the older boys face. "Play me. I can beat you."

"I don't have a racket or clothes," Fuji tells him. "Sorry, no. But do tell your buchou I think he wouldn't be able to defeat Tezuka." He turns and walks away before Kirihara can say anything in response to that, and wonders if his message will make it to Yukimura's ears.

"Why is Yukimura still buchou?" Fuji asks next, when he finds Kirihara in the bookstore again, this time searching not for something on gardening but on calligraphy. The bookstore is Fuji's favorite - it is the only close to him that carries the photography magazines he enjoys. And it seems to contain Kirihara, more and more often.

"Buchou is Buchou," Kirihara tells him, his eyes narrowing even though his tone of voice indicates that he thinks Fuji is simply crazy, daring to ask such a question and wonder such a thing.

"But Yukimura is no longer your captain." Fuji reaches over Kirihara's shoulder, chuckling when the boy instinctively flinches away, and runs his fingers over the spines of the books on one of the shelves.

"Buchou will always be Buchou," Kirihara states again.

"But what if he doesn't go into pro tennis, or quits the Rikkai tennis before..." Fuji has no chance to finish because Kirihara is pushing at his arm, muttering, "You're crazy," and fleeing the store.

Fuji grins, proud of himself.

The next day shows no Kirihara at the bookstore, which Fuji kinds quite a pity. He'd even planned out everything he could tell the boy that afternoon, just to see him squirm and get upset.

Fuji is wandering the aisle on gardening - he needs another book on cacti, just for pleasure reading, before he decides what kind of plant to get next.

"Thank you for expressing an interest in things I might like, Fuji-kun, but I am not you and don't enjoy the... prickly appeal of the cactus plant." The voice seemingly comes out of nowhere, and Fuji is surprised: he hadn't even heard any footsteps. But he doesn't really react, simply opens his eyes and looks over his shoulder.

"Ah, Yukimura-kun, forgive me. Considering the people you like to spend time with, I had thought the appeal of such a plant might not be too different."

"I like prickly people, but plants are different. Besides, the roses I raise have enough thorns."

"Roses are showy plants." Fuji's hand leaves the book on cacti he has picked out to trace the spines of more books, a shelf over, randomly picking out on.

"They are. Beautiful and considered the crowning glory of flowers."

"But they would be hard to get attached to - showy blossoms there only for a few months, the rest of the time lying dormant. Hardly appealing to one such as yourself."

"A greenhouse can work wonders, all year around, if I desired that. But even when laying dormant, they are working, healing and fixing themselves, preparing for spring. And there is something... rewarding for coaxing them out of their dormant stage to full life."

"Do you name your roses?" Fuji asks, and flips open the book he holds. "A rose such as this one-" here, he points to a wild primrose "-would be fitting for one such as Kirihara-kun, wouldn't it?"

"Perhaps, but I have found one that fits him better. Speaking of Akaya, what have you been doing to him?" Yukimura's shift in tone, from polite to slightly colder tells Fuji this is the real reason he's here, if Fuji wasn't entirely sure of the reason.

Fuji chuckles and slips the book back into place, finally turning to face Yukimura full on. "A captain should not be as distracted as he can be. Nor as full of doubts. Did he seek you out yesterday, after we talked?"

"Yes." And the experience wasn't one Yukimura wishes to deal with again, finding a crying, near hysterical Kirihara on his doorstep, one who was instantaneous in demanding he, Yukimura, not leave the tennis courts until he had conquered the world - or at least allowed Kirihara to beat him.

Fuji smiles and picks up his book on cacti again. "Saa, I figured he would run to you. You are still buchou to him."

"Akaya is stubborn in his ways," Yukimura responds. "He will use that term until it is pointless."

"Even next year when he is back on the team with you and you are not captain?"

Yukimura smiles at that, and Fuji sees himself in the smile, or perhaps it is Yukimura in his smiles, but it's hardly the point: he recognizes someone who understands, in Yukimura. "Who says I will not be captain?"

"Isn't that presumptuous?"

"Of course not. Even if I am vice-captain, half of my teammates have been with me since the beginning of middle school - they are used to respecting my authority."

Fuji chuckles, because even if he sees a familiar smile, Yukimura's words remind him of Tezuka, in ways, and it's almost tempting - Fuji's eyes light up, thankfully hidden behind closed eyelids, and he takes a step closer, narrowing the already small gap between him and Yukimura. He wonders if Yukimura will react at all like Tezuka to being touched.

"Do you find authority boring at all?" Fuji asks.

"No. I enjoy it." Yukimura arches an eyebrow, hiding a grin when he realizes Fuji is moving closer. Not that Fuji misses the amusement Yukimura feels - if their positions were reversed, Fuji too would have been amused.

"But isn't it fun to let the responsibilities rest on the shoulders of others, for a while?"

"That is why I have Sanada and Yanagi," Yukimura says. "I can handle my team - but there are times when it is easier to let Sanada dole out punishments and Yanagi handle the training menus."

"I could point out here that is how you keep on good terms with your team," Fuji says, and reaches out to run a finger down Yukimura's arm. "But that is not what keeps them liking you."

"There are other reasons," Yukimura says, his eyes closing slightly and looking, for the entire world, like a cat ready to stretch and purr under its owners hands. It motivates Fuji, still smiling, to curl his hand around the nape of Yukimura's neck and pull him forward. He's almost disappointed when Yukimura doesn't purr, but their lips are meeting and it doesn't matter so much, because Fuji manages to forget himself in the kiss.

The kiss in the bookshop was not Yukimura's first; it won't be his last; but as kisses go, it was good. Good enough for Yukimura to remember and think over at night. He wonders if Fuji is thinking about it, but he will not seek out Fuji again to ask such a question - Yukimura has his pride and he will not break it for a boy he has only kissed, once.

But that doesn't stop him from making his way to the bookstore once again, after a handful of days have gone by. Long enough, he thinks, to insist that he is not looking for Fuji, but a book.

Yukimura can offer no explanation as to why he wants to find a book on cacti, but that is not an issue, for he even doubts he will see Fuji in the store, until he turns down the gardening aisle and sees Fuji.

There is a book on roses in his hands.

"If you are interested in roses," Yukimura says, "a few my rose bushes have started blooming just this past week."

"I wouldn't want to intrude." But it's only polite talk, because Fuji is putting away the book.

"My family is gone for the evening. My parents are out, and my sister doing homework with a friend."

"Then I would be delighted to," Fuji says, and turns from the books. Neither of them are interested in the books - simple ploys are often the most useful, though, and they are both smart enough to realize this. Besides, there is something more interesting waiting for Fuji in the halls of Yukimura's house.

They do not touch on the way to Yukimura's, standing close but looking for like simple friends, nothing more - and nothing more really is what they are, and not even the simple friends that appear can truly apply to that. Yukimura thinks about this for a minute, perhaps two, on the way back to the house, but it's an inconsequential point that he pushes aside easily. There is no thinking, once they are inside.

Fuji's hands are sliding through his hair and Yukimura is tugging at Fuji's clothes, haphazard and uncaring if he rips anything, because their lips are meeting again and it's just as good, maybe even better, than Yukimura remembered: it's messy, but it's hot, the heat spreading until Yukimura feels like he is burning from a simple kiss.

Yukimura is the one to break the kiss, because he's sliding his hands beneath Fuji's shirt and pushing it up and he wants the shirt off. He uses the time Fuji is busy pulling it off to whisper "Bedroom," and proceed to pull Fuji down the hall. It takes them time - Yukimura is not so sure how long, but he thinks it is a while - to make the journey of a few feet, and by that time, they are both left with nothing on.

They don't even make it to the bed: Fuji attacks Yukimura's neck and chest, pushing him against the door, but Yukimura makes no protests. The feeling of the door against his back keeps him grounded.

Although Yukimura is no virgin, and is used to both fucking and being fucked, it surprises him when he feels Fuji's hands touching spots dark and hidden. The surprise causes Yukimura's to fly open and he looks at Fuji's smiling face, hidden secrets shining brightly there in his eyes, and feels an intrigue that doesn't last for long - Fuji's fingers are hitting that spot that makes his knees crumble and Yukimura forgets things. For now. Because his hands are wandering between their bodies, stroking and pumping, until Fuji's knees are just as weak as Yukimura's own.

When it's over, Yukimura listens to their quiet breathing in the silence, until he feels Fuji start to shift, and moves away from the door. The silence between them is not awkward, but it doesn't feel right, either.

Fuji's the first one to break it, though, as he opens the door to find his clothes. "I never did see your roses."

"Ah - next time, perhaps." Yukimura collects his own clothes, pulling things on with little haste.

"Next time you should come see my cacti. Then maybe after that." The last thing he pulls on is the shirt that had been the first to go, and then Yukimura is once again staring at the smiling visage of Fuji's. "My parents leave on a business trip next week and my brother is still away at school."

"Don't you have an older sister, as well?" Yukimura asks.

"She won't say a word about it."

"Shall we meet at the bookstore again?" There is no wondering if what they are doing is right or wrong, it simply is. Yukimura has long since given up wondering about such things, and focuses on doing. Everything is more enjoyable that way.

"Same day next week." And then Fuji reaches for the door, but pauses, and as if knowing what Fuji is thinking, Yukimura steps forward, pulls him in this time.

It's another ten minutes before Fuji finally leaves.

It feels almost odd to have an arranged meeting with Fuji, after only running into him twice, but Yukimura doesn't dwell on it; he focuses on what is going to await him after the bookstore, and looks forward to it.

He is just on time, as is Fuji: they run into each other on the sidewalk just in front of the door.

"Do we really need to go in?" Yukimura asks, although his hand is around the doorknob. He opens the door for a group of girls who leave, throwing smiles and giggling glances at both Yukimura and Fuji, who say nothing until they leave.

"No, we don't."

The trip to Fuji's house is slightly longer than the trip to Yukimura's had been, but neither show any impatience: such things will come in their time. And still, they stand not close, not touching or glancing or even looking at each other on the way there. This is sex, plain and simple, nothing more and nothing less.

In the end, they both know they will leave each other, so they feel nothing for each other. The tremors of excitement that run through them are just the results of the prospect of sex. They're teenage boys, after all, and sex is sex is sex.

When they reach Fuji's house, he leads them not to his room but the living room. Yukimura can hear movements of someone in the kitchen, and wants to comment on it, but Fuji pulls him into a kiss. He vaguely notices when Fuji's sister walks into the room and stares, but Fuji's hands are slipping into his pants and it's irrelevant.

"She likes to watch," Fuji whispers, when the kiss is broken. "Especially when it involves someone as pretty as you."

"She must watch you all the time," Yukimura comments, but doesn't say anything about the perversions of voyeurism. It isn't his place and Yukimura is vain enough that he likes to show off his looks. He smiles at her, this sister of Fuji's, and starts to unbutton Fuji's shirt, pressing a kiss to his chest with each button freed.

Fuji chuckles, and runs his fingers through Yukimura's hair, and that begins their playing: teasing touches, slow stripping to reveal toned bodies, messy kisses and just enough moving to ensure the best views of all.

In the end, their clothes are in a pile on the floor and Yumiko - she introduces herself to Yukimura once he and Fuji are done - is flushed and aroused and watches as Yukimura pulls his clothes on, article after article, stretching and bending to tease as much as he could.

Fuji walks him to the door, and sees him off with a kiss. When he glances back into the living room, one last time, Yumiko is on the couch and her fingers are slipping under her skirt.

"My parents will be gone Saturday night, and most of Sunday," Yukimura tells Fuji, before he leaves. "Normally Genichirou and Renji come over when they are away, but I haven't mentioned it to them yet. If you are interested."

"I'll make my way to your house Saturday afternoon" Fuji offers him a smile. "Thank you for the offer."

Yukimura is waiting for Fuji when the other arrives; Rikkai's practice on Saturdays do not run all afternoon and evening, despite the majority of the teams wishes. But this time, Yukimura is happy with the time it ends: it leaves him enough time to make sure everything is perfect: lube and condoms set on the nightstand, sheets clean and pulled back so they didn't have to worry about dealing with the blankets, and for Yukimura himself, a shower, pulling on a yukata, instead of the usual jeans, afterwards.

There are other things for him to do while he awaits Fuji - homework, reading he wants to keep up on, but Yukimura concentrates on watching recorded matches of his team: tennis always, even when viewed on the screen, excites him, and when Fuji finally knocks on the door, Yukimura greets him with an exuberance not normal for him. There are no greetings, no questions, but he pulls Fuji inside.

They don't make it to the bedroom this time, but Yukimura doesn't care, not when the sex against the floor of the entryway feels so good: the rough tile against his back, the feel of Fuji on top of him, the sounds of their pants in the silence of the house.

When it's over, and the tiles are digging into his skin and leaving marks, Yukimura stretches. "The bed is more comfortable," he says, and pushes Fuji off of him, collecting their clothes, tossing Fuji's pants at him and walking down the hall to his bedroom, finally.

"Someone was impatient," Fuji comments, following, amused by the preceeding events; not that he is complaining, but it did take him by surprise.

"Put it down to having too much energy and no way to relieve it." Yukimura grins over his shoulder at Fuji. "Tennis always does that to me."

"I wonder what your boyfriend would think of such a thing."

"He would just have to accept it. What boy would complain about having a partner who was always restless after practices?"

"If you attack him like you did me all the time, I think he might have a problem. And he might object to sharing you with tennis.

"He should simply be happy tennis is sharing me with him." Yukimura turned to glance at Fuji. "Or I'll date someone who feels the same way about tennis as I do."

"Your team is full of people like that. Your problem might be picking one."

"Why settle for one when you can have two?" Yukimura murmurs and it tempts Fuji to ask what he means, but Yukimura is wrapping his arms around Fuji's waist and it's hard to remember a question when there are different things to focus on.

"You're a glutton, Yukimura," Fuji says, running his fingers through Yukimura's hair and tilting his face up for a kiss.

"I prefer insatiable," Yukimura replies; there are no words after that.

They make no arrangements to meet again, but Yukimura finds himself in the bookstore on the day that was to be their meeting day and he isn't surprised when he sees Fuji, although the section he sees Fuji in does surprise him.

"Thinking of going back into tennis, Fuji?" Yukimura asks, staring at the magazine Fuji holds. He knows what is in that magazine; it's sitting on his desk at home, and Yukimura is sure that Yanagi has cut it out and pasted it into a scrapbook.

"No." Fuji doesn't close the magazine though, and continues reading. "But I do like reading, especially when it is about people I know."

"Although it would please me to think that you are reading the article on me, I have a feeling it is the one of Tezuka that captures your interest."

Fuji glances up then, and chuckles. "You have caught me, Yukimura."

"Why did you not ask him to see the article, instead of sneaking in here and reading it?"

"Ah, ask Tezuka?" Fuji finally closes the magazine and sets it back. "I do not think he has it."

"He does," Yukimura responds. "Everyone who was interviewed got a copy."

"Perhaps I wanted to read it without him knowing."

"But why would you do that?" Yukimura asks, reaching over to run his fingers down Fuji's arm.

"Saa, Yukimura. It is just a little secret. Such as the one you kept from your friends, about this weekend."

Yukimura doesn't flinch or pale, but Fuji wasn't expecting it; he watched for a shift in the polite smile, in the pretty eyes looking at him, in the touch of the hand on his arm. But even that was a disappointment: there was no change.

"It's no longer a little secret. Or a secret at all."

"How did your friends take learning such a thing?"

It's then that Fuji's study of Yukimura bears reward. Yukimura glances away, then looks back to him, eyes slightly glazed and smile slightly dimmed, and then Fuji knows that something has gone on between the three of them that he is not a part of.

"They have dealt."

"They always do, ah?"

"Exactly." Yukimura moves his hand from Fuji's arm and smiles, brilliantly, at him. "I believe the manager is wondering what we are doing here and is soon going to come ask."

"We should depart, then."

It's unspoken between them, what shall happen, but they both know, and feet turn automatically toward Yukimura's residence once they leave. Once again, there is distance between them that speaks volumes to them both.

The sex is violent and vicious, almost; the most passionate they have been, because when it is over, Fuji has to collect his mind and himself. There are bite marks on his shoulders, and he can feel scrapes on his back, from Yukimura's nails.

It's a good final parting gift. Because Fuji can taste it in the air, tasted it in the sex. There's no kiss this time, no unspoken plans to meet up the follow week or the week after. Maybe in a few years, wanders through Fuji's mind, but he doesn't speak of it. It will happen if it is meant to. Which makes him smile - he normally does not believe in Fate like he does when it comes to Yukimura.

"Wait," Yukimura says, when they reach the door, and Fuji is slipping his shoes on. "I have something for you."

Fuji watches as he walks back to his room, and returns a minute later with a magazine.

"Perhaps it would be a good idea for Tezuka to know you are still interested," Yukimura suggests, handing it to Fuji. He suggests nothing else, although Fuji can see it on the tip of his lip to offer advice and suggestions.

"Thank you, Yukimura," Fuji says, and glances to the magazine. "But don't you-"

"Renji has it in a scrapbook. He collects everything like that; I would have just thrown it out in a month or so."

Fuji smiles and nods, departing the house quietly.

The next week, Yukimura finds a book on cacti sitting on the front step, with a note attached. I still believe you would like cacti, due to the prickly people you associate with.