Putting Out Fires
AU, TezukaFuji/ Fuji learns the hard way that it's probably not smart to give Tezuka detention.
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A/N: Wow...I must say I'm speechless, 20 reviews on one chapter, you guys are really spoiling me. Thank you all! And to think I was almost not going to post this because I thought it was weird and cliche...but yeah, wow. I'm really speechless. I worked hard on this chapter though, so I hope you all enjoy! And for those of you that are worried, yes, this fic will end up TeFu, just give it time xD.
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Fuji flinched when the door slammed, but he let out a sigh of relief, staring at the parting figure that stormed down the hall through the thick square of glass framed by wood. The past two hours and a half had been one of the most interesting Fuji had ever expected to have, proctoring detention, but it had been both physically, and emotionally draining.
He left the classroom himself, and locked it securely after. The hallway was empty; Fuji hitched his bag over one shoulder and started towards the exit at the end. Almost unconsciously, he brought a finger to his chin and tipped it, just as Tezuka had done.
"Maybe it's easier for you to get a date. Do you date?" Tezuka's voice echoed mockingly in his head.
Fuji was too tired to feel angry. It wasn't like he couldn't get a date. There were plenty of people who would have loved to go out with a Tokyo University graduate. Yuuta had told him as much. But the trouble was, no one wanted to go with a Tokyo University grad who had holes in his pockets.
He shook himself, why was he getting all worked up with that one little comment, anyway? It hadn't come from anyone terribly important, no, he shook himself again. It hadn't come from anyone important. Tezuka Kunimitsu was absolutely no one. Nothing at all.
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His near-ancient motorbike was sitting where he left it, along with his helmet, an old scratched, discolored thing. What bugged Fuji the most was that Tezuka was currently standing next to the motorbike and staring at it like it was some new inhumane scum that shouldn't have infested the earth.
He walked up to the boy and slammed his bag down, loud enough to make Tezuka wince; he saw it: a little slight twitch of the eyes. "What do you want?" Fuji demanded, "Detention is over. Leave me alone."
"It's a nice motorbike." Tezuka said, in a tone that meant anything but.
"You're disrespectful, and you're infinitely exasperating." Fuji glared at him, but his glare didn't seem to have any effect on Tezuka at all, that annoyed him. "I said, leave me alone. Go drive home in your Porsche, or something."
"What's wrong with a Porsche, sensei?" Tezuka looked vaguely amused, "Is it a crime to drive one?"
A lecture was on the tip of Fuji's tongue, and now, looking at the boy standing in front of him, even if Tezuka was a good half a head taller, Fuji would have liked nothing better than to spit it out and watch the words pierce the boy through and through. But he bit his lip and did not reply.
"But no, for your information, I don't drive a Porsche, though, the thought of it is nice."
"What is it, then?" Fuji found it easier to talk if he was staring at his battered helmet, which he gripped tightly in one hand. "Dissatisfied with your Ferrari because you bought it last year?"
"Now, you're the one being rude, sensei." Tezuka said, "I don't own a car, Grandfather won't buy me one, at least, not until I'm twenty. So I usually ride with Echizen, who is not here, you might notice."
"There's a bus stop. Not too far away from here." Fuji said, refusing to be baited. "Ten minutes if you walk, I think."
"I'm not taking the bus."
Fuji stared back at him, "You're not getting a ride from me." He crossed his arms, the nerve of Tezuka to even imply that. "So, it's either the bus, or you're walking, Tezuka-kun."
Tezuka stood still, "Aren't all young teachers so eager to break the rules these days? You could just break one more and take me home, you know. You did break the rules and give me detention, after all."
Fuji fastened his helmet and swung on his bike. "Nowhere in my job description did it say 'thou shalt not give Tezuka Kunimitsu detention because he doesn't want to admit he's an asshole.' Please don't try to lure me away from being a respectable human being."
"Are you saying I'm not respectable?" To his credit, Tezuka kept his voice very even, even enough to sound threatening.
Fuji revved up the motorbike and looked at the boy, smirked. There was no victor yet, but he considered this round finished. "I might be." He smirked, just a little and left his student standing there in a victorious cloud of dust.
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"Why so late?" Fuji Yuuta was his younger brother, three years his junior, and sometimes played his mother.
Fuji kicked off his shoes, "Long day." He announced, "I had to give this kid detention and he didn't make it easy on me. What's for dinner?"
"Well...I invited Shiraishi-san over for dinner..." Yuuta began carefully, and when he saw his brother's look, he sighed and promptly corrected himself, "Okay, so I lied, he invited himself over and he offered to bring takeout...and...I'm just too tired to cook, okay?"
Fuji believed him, so he forgave readily. But still, he didn't understand why Shiraishi Kuranosuke, an intern at Tokyo General, was so infatuated with him. They had both gone to Todai, but Shiraishi studied medicine and was three years ahead.
And besides.
"Maybe it's easier for you to get a date. Do you date?"
Fuji slapped himself; tomorrow, he was certainly going to give Tezuka Kunimitsu a good talking to, perhaps he would even find another reason to give the kid detention, it seemed to rile him plenty.
"Aniki?" Yuuta looked at him, "Are you...mad?"
Fuji paused, "Well...yeah, but not at you. Just don't invite Kura-senpai without telling me ahead of time, okay? You do that and I'll have at least enough time to clean the house..."
Yuuta eyed him disapprovingly, "Just because Shiraishi-san's a doctor and rich does not mean you have to go into a cleaning frenzy every time he comes over, aniki. He likes you enough not to care."
"Don't say it like that." A blush crept to bloom on Fuji's cheeks. He rubbed them and they felt very warm.
"Why not? I do like you, Syusuke."
Fuji jumped five feet in the air. Suddenly things made sense, he'd left the door open, and Shiraishi Kuranosuke in khakis and a dress shirt, looked very handsome and amused as he stared at him, leaning against the doorway.
"Kura-senpai! Don't do that to me, you're going to give me a heart attack..." But Fuji's voice grew smaller and smaller as the other man stepped in closer.
Shiraishi kissed him, a chaste brush to his still burning cheek.
Still, all Fuji could hear was the taunting voice of Tezuka Kunimitsu in his head: "Maybe it's easier for you to get a date. Do you date?"
The taller man was laughing, as if Fuji's almost ailment was actually amusing, "...Syusuke, you're too young for a heart attack."
Somehow, Fuji doubted it, one was never too young for anything, "I feel myself starting to gray already. The kids are going to be the death of me."
Shiraishi pitied him, "...I'll give you some arsenic poison to take to school."
A pause, Fuji smiled, it didn't seem quite right for the ever kind smiling Kura-senpai to employ such a cutting sense of humor, "Thanks."
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Ryoma's phone rang seven times before the boy picked up. The breathing on the other end was shallow, and Tezuka fought to resist the urge of sighing on his own. The boy was sulking.
Ryoma spoke first, "You lied."
"I'm sorry." There was nothing else to say. "I was...with Fuji-sensei." The confession tasted like bile, and Tezuka winced when he said it. "He gave me detention."
"You should have skipped." The boy was thoroughly disapproving.
"He would have failed me." Tezuka replied, tracing a crease on his bedsheet. "I can't have that."
"Jerk."
Echizen Ryoma had the nerve to hang up on him. Tezuka was definitely going to give Fuji Syusuke, sensei or not, a good talking to tomorrow. He put down his phone and flipped over on his bed.
He lay there awhile, until the silence wrapped itself around his throat and choked him.
Then Tezuka went downstairs and there was a piece of neatly folded stationary on the coffee table. He knew what it was.
Flying to Spain, won't be back until Sunday. Call if you have problems.
He had plenty of problems, and none of them could be solved by his grandfather, who was half a globe away. Tezuka crumpled the stationary into a ball and threw it; it landed with a neat little plop into the wastebasket.
He wondered about that. Fuji-sensei had good aim.
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After dinner of the most expensive takeout Fuji had ever eaten, he panicked when he realized that Yuuta was gone without him knowing. Shiraishi Kuranosuke, however, was opening up two cans of beer and still was very, very present. He held an open can out to Fuji.
"Here, you need one."
Fuji took it, without question, "Do I look that bad?"
"Well, not bad, stressed." Shiraishi said, sipping his own beer, "Sleeping well?"
Fuji considered, he wondered if he were really stressed. 'Stressed' when used in his vocabulary, implied occasional anxiety, lots of panic and...well, it was high school all over again. "I guess. Although you'd think I'd know better the second time around, huh?"
"Yeah, but this is very much like you. I like it."
Fuji said nothing. He drank more beer.
"Something's bothering you."
Fuji thought of Tezuka. Of the boy's taunting monotonous voice. He hated it. So much.
"Kura-senpai."
"Mm?"
He couldn't say it. But the thought of Tezuka's voice in his head, plaguing him every time he thought...Fuji swallowed, hard enough to hurt. Quickly, he shook his head, "...Sorry."
"For what?"
Goddamnit. Fuji drowned more beer, until his whole can was empty.
Shiraishi Kuranosuke understood, because Kura-senpai understood everything. His kisses were gentle and soothing and Fuji hooked his arms around the other's waist. The kisses were warm, dizzying and he clung closer.
"I don't know what I'm doing." He confessed quietly.
Shiraishi's hands wandered, up under his shirt, against his bare skin. He knew exactly what he was doing. "That's okay."
Fuji groaned, fleetingly, he thought of Yuuta, if his younger brother had known all along.
And in his head, Tezuka was silent.
Another victory.
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Later, Fuji lay with his head on Shiraishi's lap. It was a very strange position, but then, this day had been strange altogether, at least, on Fuji's part. However, it wasn't as if his senpai actually minded. In fact, Shiraishi seemed to be enjoying himself plenty, as he threaded his fingers through Fuji's hair.
"Why did you become a teacher?"
Fuji closed his eyes and sighed. "I wanted to save the world. It's stupid now. I wish I hadn't done it."
"We need people to save the world." Shiraishi said, with a smile, but he did not laugh. If he had, Fuji wouldn't have forgiven him.
"It doesn't have to be me."
Shiraishi's kiss to his forehead was warm, and understanding. And he said nothing at all. Only after a long, long silence did he venture, "Most people who are heroes say that." The answer was reassuring, he was telling him something else. That it was all right.
Fuji stared up calmly at the man above him. Maybe it was all right if he believed. As a 'hero'; however, he thought he was downright unique because he hated the people he saved.
"You'll stay the night?"
"If you'd let me, I'd love to stay."
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Echizen Ryoma, with his cousin Nanako at the wheel, showed up promptly at seven-thirty on Tezuka's doorstep, as they always did. Although this time, Ryoma didn't smirk at him – he didn't even look. Tezuka tried not to let it bother him too much.
Seishun Gakuen came in sight none too soon. Nanako parked next to the curb right next to the teacher's parking lot, and Tezuka let his eyes wander for Fuji-sensei's motorbike, although he didn't find it.
Nanako drove away, Tezuka watched her go, and so did Ryoma. The boy still stubbornly stonewalled him. He sighed. His stoicism seemed to have rubbed off in all the wrong ways.
A car drove by and turned into the parking lot. It wasn't a car Tezuka recognized, but the moment the passenger side door opened, he did an immediate double take. He was far away, but not far away enough.
It was Fuji-sensei.
And then the driver's door opened and a very tall, good-looking man got out. Tezuka kicked himself for thinking the second adjective. But that didn't change the fact that it was true.
The man kissed Fuji's cheek, and his teacher blushed.
"Mou...Kura-senpai, you don't have to walk me to class. You'll be late for work."
"I'm not in a hurry." The man said, "Or is that just an excuse to get rid of me?"
Fuji blushed harder, but then, his teacher turned his head just a fatal inch, and saw.
Him.
With Ryoma.
Fuji smiled. It was a terrible smile, Tezuka thought. He watched the stranger drop a lazy arm around Fuji. And that terrible smile grew. "No, I never said that." Fuji seemed to be choosing his words carefully, now that he knew Tezuka was watching, listening. "I just...you know, didn't want to be a burden."
They were walking. With each step, they were getting closer. Tezuka found himself rooted to the spot. Ryoma seemed just as transfixed, standing there beside him, but he wasn't sure why.
The two of them passed by, and Fuji said, "Good morning, Tezuka-kun, Echizen-kun."
Tezuka did not reply, couldn't reply.
Ryoma glared at Fuji's back, and took Tezuka's hand, just as the stranger turned around to give them another look.
"Who are they?"
Fuji laughed lightly, "The bane of my existence, the tall one gives me gray hair."