Sorry for the embarrassing delay. I'd like to apologize, as well, to those who read this when I still didn't know that ffnet automatically removed dashes as paragraph breaks. I've replaced everything with lines; it looks ugly, but at least they work.

Thank you once again to all the reviews. I finally managed to push the FujiRyo (or RyoFuji) further forward. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. I also made it a bit longer than usual.

Written with the help of iu_fanfiction Writing Challenge #28 (Buwan ng Wika Celebration) prompt, Walang matigas na tinapay, sa mainit na kape (No bread is too hard for a hot cup of coffee ). Thank you for the prompt; I'd never would've had the inspiration to write this without it. Thank you also to Milky Etoile. I was planning to drop this because I was getting bored, but she reignited my love for RyoFuji. Thank you.

All disclaimers apply.

The Scarlet Stain

Beautiful Taboo

(cinco)

Fuji was getting restless.

Ever since Ryoma's 'suggestion' a few days back, Fuji had been receiving phone calls from him. They weren't exactly offensive or disturbing. Most of the calls had Ryoma asking him casually about his day, or asking for a match. Although friendly, it freaked Fuji out, as he knew what was behind Ryoma's sudden friendliness.

"Look, Echizen-" Fuji finally said, as he got out of the studio. "Would you please stop harassing me? It's been ten days already. Aren't you supposed to be deep into practicing or something?" Fuji glanced at his watch; Tezuka told him that he'd be over to pick him up in a few minutes for dinner.

There was surprise on the other line. "I wasn't harassing you," Ryoma said defensively.

Fuji sighed. "I know that isn't your intention, but you're stressing me out. I know you have this mischievous streak, but Echizen, I'm too old for your games. If you're so intent on playing this, why don't you just try someone else?"

"I'll talk to buchou then."

Fuji's eyes widened as he gasped. "You wouldn't dare."

"Jeez, sempai. That was a joke." Ryoma chuckled on the other line, and Fuji cursed under his breath. "Putting that aside, I won't stop until you acknowledge that I'm serious."

"Okay. You're serious." Ryoma made a frustrated sound over the line. Fuji could see him pouting, and he felt himself wallow in what he knew was a victory. "Now that we're over that, I'm hanging up."

"But-"

"Mitsu's here," Fuji said quickly, before hanging up. He turned off his phone, and walked over to Tezuka's car, smiling as he did so. All thoughts of Ryoma were pushed to the back of his mind.

However, Fuji knew all too well that the cloud of worry Ryoma placed over him still wasn't gone for good.

In fact, it was just beginning.

The restaurant Tezuka brought Fuji to was his favorite. He was aware that Tezuka knew that, and he happily squeezed his hand from under the table. Tezuka gave him one of the rare smiles which, recently, haven't been really rare at all.

"I take it that the girls are doing fine? It's not often that you invite me to eat dinner out together."

Tezuka nodded. "I have something important to tell you."

Fuji blinked and let go of Tezuka's hand, placed his elbow over the table and casually rested his chin on it. "You seem to be full of surprises these days, Mitsu. Surprising me would be hard at this point." He smiled. "Well then. Shoot."

"I love you."

Fuji couldn't help but blush. "You told me that before."

Tezuka pushed up his glasses, and then folded his hands onto the table, and he met Fuji's anticipating cerulean eyes. "I've decided to... break the marriage off." He cleared his throat. "With Asami."

Fuji's mouth hung open.

"Syuusuke," Tezuka pressed, in his collected, Tezuka-manner, "I'm never letting you go this time."

His eyes said just the same thing.

Ryoma completely ignored the maître d' as he swiftly made his way into the restaurant. He still had his sports coat on, the first thing he pulled out of his closet when he made his way out of the hotel a few hours earlier. It took him a while to find the place, but it didn't take him long to find the two seated in one of the corner tables.

Tezuka looked solemn, while Fuji looked... rather horrified.

Ryoma could only guess what they were talking about, as he managed to hear the last snippets of Tezuka's... confession, but he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he walked over to them, and stood right in front of their table. Tezuka glanced at him, while Fuji remained silent with shock, obviously not aware of the new presence in their table.

"Good evening, buchou," Ryoma greeted curtly, bowing slightly and looking at his previous captain from under his bangs.

"Good evening," Tezuka greeted back, almost as curtly. He paused, and watched as Ryoma's cat-like eyes drifted onto Fuji, and back to him again. Ryoma was glaring at him accusingly for a second, before mellowing his expression down for a bit. "Coincidence?"

Finally, the young man smirked. "I don't think so." With that, he took Fuji by the wrist, and dragged the still-silent photographer out of the restaurant.

Tezuka sighed as he looked at the check Ryoma had slammed on the table before he stormed out.

Sighing once more, he cradled his chin on his hand, looked out the window, and began to think.

"Echizen," Fuji finally breathed out. He looked bewildered, as he panickedly glanced around his surrounding – rather, his lack of a proper one – which was traffic and the highway. He was somehow on a motorcycle, running at a speed that Fuji thought needed to warrant a ticket, and wearing a heavy helmet which smelled distinctly of menthol shampoo. Ryoma was driving.

"What the fuck are you doing, Echizen?" he screamed loudly, hitting Ryoma's helmet with his. "Get me back there at once!"

"Can't hear you, sempai!" Ryoma shouted back. Fuji could swear he saw Ryoma grin.

He frowned, and tightened his hold around Ryoma's waist, suddenly feeling the fear sink in.

He was going to pay for this.

Oh, Echizen Ryoma was going to pay.

Fuji, although seething, couldn't help but watch as Ryoma took off his helmet and shook out his hair. There was something in him that somehow felt that this was all planned. Nevertheless, it was quite a beautiful sight, and Fuji found himself staring. Again.

Ryoma smirked at him brilliantly. "Glad you appreciate it."

Fuji looked away, flushing, and inwardly kicking himself. "Quit teasing me. It's not as funny as you think," he muttered, pulling the helmet closer to his chest. He tucked his leg underneath the other, trying to feel more comfortable on the rock that he was sitting on. They were both outside Seigaku, somewhere at the back wall, near the tennis courts.

"Aa, sure brings back memories, doesn't it, sempai?"

Before nostalgia sunk in, Fuji shook his head and glared. "Shut up. Let's go back. Mitsu must be worried. And I have work in a few hours."

Ryoma frowned, obviously displeased. "You looked pretty peeved at what buchou was telling you," he pointed out. "I just wanted to help."

"How could you decide that on your own? You just don't want to admit loss in this prank of yours," Fuji accused. "Mitsu and I were talking about something important! And you had to cut in the middle!"

"I know!" Ryoma replied, his voice rising. It took Fuji aback, and he bent away slightly. "I know it was something important! I could get that much! Because sempai is mada mada, and buchou is, too! You two are full of too much bullshit! Why can't you two just..."

Fuji watched as Ryoma stopped, his breathing heavy, and his face flushed. The boy's eyes never left him. They were panicked, as if Ryoma discovered something he shouldn't have. Fuji knew what it meant, and he stared back, his own eyes wide with fear. Fuji recognized that look all too well. The same one he had during that day in the bathroom, during his first year in high school...

Guilt quickly flooded the tensai's system. He clutched his hair, and lowered his head, his skin getting paler by the minute. "Echizen, I'm so sorry- I-" Fuji began, but he was cut short when Ryoma marched determinedly towards him, eventually pinning him against the wall, and forcing their eyes to lock.

The look on Ryoma's face was neither accusing nor angry.

"Don't be," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "It's not your fault."

And he kissed him.

Fuji sat on the rock, his knees to his chest, and his hands to his hair.

It had been ten minutes or so since they stopped.

Right in the middle of it, Ryoma suddenly tensed up, mumbled a 'shit' under his breath, and gently pushed Fuji away. Fuji wasn't even aware that he was kissing back just as intensely, until the glaze his in vision cleared. Ryoma, flushed, gave a quick apology, before walking further into the dark.

After hearing certain sounds a few seconds later, Fuji had an idea on what happened. And he found himself being in the same position.

Now, with guilt hanging like a guillotine over his head after jerking off from (only!) his kouhai's kiss, he was once again thrown into a pit of confusion.

It was all Ryoma's fault.

The damn boy certainly knew what he was doing.

Ryoma wiped the sweat from his forehead, as he finished the last of the tissues in the pack he luckily had on him. He was thankful, for once, for being too lazy to dry clean his jackets. The rest of the tissues were now buried under the ground, as well as the manifestation of his feelings.

Fuck it, he was probably going insane.

'Feelings' his ass.

Still, as he made his way back to his sempai, he knew that the words weren't exactly far from the truth.

And, seeing Fuji's expression as the man looked up, Ryoma was sure that he wasn't the only one who knew it.

"I'm serious."

"... I don't think I can say 'no' to that, now."

Fuji listened, as Ryoma shifted in his seat beside him. As the seconds ticked, the heavier the guilt weighed on his shoulders. First, Tezuka and his wife. Now, Ryoma and his manhood. Who else was Fuji going to drag down to the deepest pits of hell with him?

"Ne. Are you Catholic?"

Ryoma nodded.

"This is called sodomy." Fuji paused. "And you can go to hell for it."

Ryoma said, "I know that, sempai." Stubbornly, he added, "I don't care."

"It'll hurt. It's not the same as girls. It won't get wet. There'll be blood at times. There'll-"

Ryoma scratched his head, irritated and embarrassed. "I'm not doing this to get in your pants, okay?"

Fuji was about to say something more, when he felt Ryoma grip his hand tightly. He looked at Ryoma, and found him blushing up to the tips of his ears. Ryoma was looking at his knees. The grip became tighter.

"I'm never letting you go that easily, either, got it?"

To be continued.

Ryoma is seme.

BRB AS I COMMIT SEPPUKU

SEE YOU ALL IN HELL LEVEL Y WHERE ALL THE CHEESY BASTARDS ARE PUNISHED

Will probably be... revised or something.

BT