I can't seem to stick with writing about one pairing...
Disclaimer- Not mine.
It's late at night when Tezuka's phone starts to ring and while it is on silent the buzz of the vibration against the wooden surface of his bedside table is enough to jolt him into awareness as cleanly as if someone had shouted in his ear.
Without his glasses the world is a haze of blurred shapes in the gloom, the sun has not yet risen to chase away the shadows of the night, but he is able to make out the dimly glowing green lettering of the clock beside his bed, blinking out the time.
Three AM.
For a moment he is panicked, there are only a handful of people who know his number and even fewer would have a reason to be calling him at this time of night, but when he reaches over to slip on his glasses and look at the caller id his panic makes way for a whole new emotion that is familiar but nonetheless unwanted.
His thumb hovers over the buttons; torn between answering and just hanging up, torn between listening to his heart or to his brain. Closing his eyes Tezuka lets out a sigh, already knowing which part of him will win.
The voice that greets him, although wavering and higher in pitch than usual, is all too recognizable.
"I-I saw them again... I-I can't get it out of my mind."
"Fuji..."
"Please. Open the door."
Whatever resolve Tezuka may have had immediately crumbled at the plaintive, broken plea and, against his better judgement, he finds himself getting out of bed and heading for the front door.
The sight that greets him is even more familiar. The brunette's clothes are dishevelled, his hair a mess as though he had been raking his fingers through it numerous times and those captivating sapphire eyes, once so full of life, are listless and rimmed with red.
Yet Tezuka still found him beautiful.
"Tezuka..."
There is no intimacy between them, even when Fuji reaches up on tiptoes to kiss him. The use of first names would indicate closeness, a special bond that, no matter how much Tezuka wishes it to be so, they don't share.
Even so, as Fuji presses closer and his fingers tighten almost painfully in his hair, Tezuka finds that he cannot resist.
--
It is during times like this that Tezuka momentarily forgets that what he is doing is wrong, that he shouldn't be letting this happen but he cannot stop that small part of him that enjoys how perfectly Fuji seems to fit into his arms, as though he was made specifically for that purpose.
He forgets that this means nothing, he forgets everything that is not how soft and supple Fuji's skin as it is flushed pink or how he smells so sweet up close. He is so lost in his euphoria that he lets his guard down, leans down and opens his mouth to say those three little words that mean so much.
Fuji beats him to it but the name that escapes parted, rosy red lips is not Tezuka's own.
--
When Tezuka wakes, just as the sun is starting to peek over the horizon and spread it's warm golden rays across the room, it is to an empty bed. Despite the early hour Fuji has already left, leaving behind only a trace of his scent on the pillow an indicator that he had been there at all.
This was to be expected though. Fuji never stayed. Why should he when this was nothing but an excuse to take his mind off things? It means nothing to him, unlike to Tezuka where it means everything.
He knows that he can't let this keep happening; that he should say something, demand to stop being treated like a toy that can be picked up and discarded at will, but inside he knows that he won't.
That he can't.
When Fuji comes again, like all those times before, Tezuka will be too weak to resist.
My first attempt at.. angst? Tell me what you think.