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: First off, a HUGE HUGE THANKS to everyone that reviewed! I love you all and you guys helped me get going on this. I had the worst writer's block you wouldn't even know. I'm really trying to get back into the groove of writing and thanks again for everyone's saintly patience! I'm actually really happy with how the last scene turns out, but I don't want to spoil anything so I'll just end the rant here xD.
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Yukimura had a boyfriend, he was a graduate student at Todai, and studied chemical engineering. His name was Yanagi Renji, and if Tezuka had his fair share in things, he hated Yanagi more than he would ever hate Yukimura, simply because the first words out of Yanagi's mouth when Tezuka opened the door were:
"Did you finally run away from home?"
Tezuka swung his bag over his shoulder, "...Not wanting to go home does not constitute in running away from home, Yanagi." He spat the name, clicking on his seatbelt. After that, he flicked the back of Yukimura's head, a rather uncharacteristic move for him...but the day had been shit rotten altogether.
"Why'd you bring him along?"
"He's my boyfriend." Yukimura answered calmly, "I have enough sense not to corrupt little boys who haven't hit puberty, at least."
Tezuka said nothing.
In the rear view mirror, he watched his cousin smirk.
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Fuji was content. Contentment was a very odd feeling, at least, for now, since nothing really went his way anymore. But he was content here and now, lying in an endless green meadow, with his head lodged snugly on Tezuka's shoulder. Tezuka smelled warm and clean.
Tezuka was playing with a strand of Fuji's hair, wounding it idly around one finger.
"Mou, Tezuka-kun, you're messing up my hair."
"I like it messed." Was the calm answer he received in return.
"I was under the impression that you didn't like anything messy."
Tezuka said nothing, finally, he sighed, "So maybe I lied." He said, sounding rather uncertain for the first time, still stroking Fuji's hair.
"...Or maybe I'm just a convenient exception to all your rules." Fuji smirked a rare smirk, "Aren't I?"
Tezuka only looked at him, distant, and knowing all that the same time, "Aren't you?"
Fuji woke up in a cold sweat. He blinked several times, before realizing that to his horror, there was no green meadow, and no Tezuka. There was instead, a large bed, night outside a locked window, and a shirtless Shiraishi Kuranosuke not all that far away.
Close enough so that Fuji could hear him breathing, actually. Shiraishi smelled wonderfully musky and familiar.
So much so that all Fuji wanted to do was throw up.
Why, why, why had he dreamed something so nonsensical, something utterly pointless...
It was disgusting. So disgusting that his stomach almost lurched.
And yet, Fuji loathed to remember exactly how his chest had tingled.
He curled himself into a ball and clenched his fingers into a tight fist. Fuji closed his eyes and wished for a long, dreamless sleep.
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"Tezuka, it's two in the morning. Do you have a good reason for calling me?" Inui Sadaharu sounded businesslike and, most importantly, awake (even for two in the morning.)
"You'd be awake." Tezuka stated quietly, "I know that much."
"True." Inui agreed amiably over the phone, "But you're awake, why is that?"
"I'm at Yukimura's." As if that explained everything.
And apparently, in the ever ingenious mind of Inui, it said plenty, for he asked no more questions, "And what do you want?"
Tezuka stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling looming threateningly above him. Inui asked that question with so much confidence, that he would undoubtedly deliver what Tezuka wanted—with a price. Inui Sadaharu was one of those people that could give you anything—with a price.
"I want Fuji-sensei's phone number."
There was a long, long pause over the phone.
"I thought you might."
Tezuka winced, "What's that supposed to mean, Inui?" He said, keeping his voice even.
Inui said, "Well, you were just short of being blatantly obvious. It's not like you at all, but then, you never cease to amaze me."
Tezuka bit his tongue.
"I have his number, I thought you'd ask for it last week, so I thought it would be good idea to have it handy. Pity you didn't ask for it then."
"Inui."
"It's not like I lost it. Calm down." Inui said, "Just let me look for it. I'll give you his address too, just for fun."
It was one of those rare moments when Tezuka appreciated Inui's humor.
Tezuka lay back again. It was obvious that Yanagi and Yukimura never made use of the guest bedroom. The sheets weren't exactly fresh, but at least they were clean. Which made him wonder exactly how those two got along.
"Found it."
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Fuji didn't want to risk going back to sleep, so he rolled out of bed and grabbed a spare blanket to wrap around his shoulders. It was unexpectedly cold, or maybe Shiraishi was warm-blooded enough not to keep the heater running at night.
Fuji stood. Shiraishi really had a nice apartment, and he obviously took pride in making sure everything was top class. But unlike Fuji's rather obnoxious cousin, Atobe, Shiraishi didn't make him feel terrible for not being rich, or cultivated.
His phone was ringing. It was lying on Shiraishi's nightstand and Fuji stared at it blearily. It was getting on to be well past two, and whenever he received a phone call at such a ridiculous hour, it usually meant Yuuta had gotten into some sort of trouble.
The number wasn't one he realized.
"...Hello."
There was faint breathing at the other end.
"Hello?" Fuji tried again.
"Sensei."
Fuji dropped the phone, it landed soundlessly on Shiraishi's newly cleaned Italian carpet. Sensei. Only one person called him that, only one person who dared to mock his title would dare to call him at two in the morning. Swallowing hard, Fuji picked up the phone.
"How did you get this number?"
"Why does it matter?"
Fuji closed his eyes and sighed deeply, "Because I'm your teacher, and it's not normal for students to call their teachers on their cell phones at two in the morning? Unless you're in some kind of trouble, are you in trouble, Tezuka-kun?"
"I'm not in trouble."
"Then what do you want?"
"Why do you always think I want something?"
"Because you do." Fuji walked out into the darkened hallway, where he sank down against the wall. "You want something from me, I don't want to give it to you, and therefore, you make it your life mission to make my life a miserable hell. And because of your darling grandfather, you could do it too."
"What do you think I want from you?" Tezuka said.
Fuji's lips twitched, "You want something from me that I can't give, all right? I'm going to bed."
"...Sensei."
"What?"
"You're exasperating."
"So are you."
Fuji bit his lip, he rubbed one hand against his cheek and realized that they were unnaturally warm.
And then Tezuka said:
"I think I miss you."
His first instinct was to cry, no one ever said things like that, not even Shiraishi, who loved him more than anything else. It was Tezuka that told him that he was missed. Tezuka, who got on his nerves all day. Even without doing anything.
"That's why I can't sleep."
Fuji hung up with what he hoped was a decisive beep.
After hanging up, he practically ran back into the bedroom and buried himself in the familiar arms of Shiraishi...who, thankfully, was a very heavy sleeper.
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"I feel like calling in sick."
Shiraishi rubbed his back soothingly, "Why? Didn't you sleep well?"
It was times like this, when Fuji wished that he was in love with someone as wonderful, and as caring, as Shiraishi Kuranosuke. And he almost convinced himself that he was, too. Shiraishi's arms were tight around him and even without the presence of many blankets, he was warm.
"I did...it's just..." Fuji grinned a sleepy grin, "You're not making getting out of bed easy for me. Lying through his teeth again, but he was getting better at this every day. "Besides, I haven't taken one yet."
Shiraishi laughed and kissed his forehead. "Well, fine, do what you want. You're more than welcome to stay here, but I have to go to work. There's a patient coming in for a bypass today, and I have to assist."
"Well, at least you have a job that you like." Fuji mumbled into a pillow.
Shiraishi raised an eyebrow, "...Syusuke, you're so temperamental."
Fuji stared up at him, "...I guess I am. Do you think you can drop me off at home?"
Shiraishi let out a dazzling laugh, "Not exactly on my way, but for my little princess, I'm sure I can manage."
Fuji sat up. Tezuka would never say something so sentimental like that, princess. As soon as he thought the thought, he promptly slapped himself. Scrambling out of bed, he raked a hurried hand through his hair, "I"ll hurry up, wouldn't want to make you late now, would I?"
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Fuji-sensei was not at school. Tezuka had walked into English class and found a wizened old man in the place of his teacher. As soon as he had walked in, he had walked out, and had collected Ryoma from his Japanese class, and the younger boy was altogether too happy to oblige.
Tezuka wondered about that, if his phone call had scared his teacher permanently away from Seishun Gakuen. In all honesty, Tezuka didn't think so. Fuji-sensei was stubborn to a fault—so much so that it took a phone call at two in the morning to shake him up.
"Kunimitsu."
Ryoma had taken his hand without him noticing, and the first thing that came to mind to do was to panic. Tezuka wasn't really given to gestures of affection, unless it was in private and no one could see. They were on school grounds now, and thus, not private.
"What?"
"What do you think about Fuji-sensei?"
Tezuka paused. Even if, he had been nothing short of blatantly obvious to Inui, there was no possible way that Ryoma could decipher things up to Inui's level of logic.
"He's interesting." He replied vaguely.
"Is that why you never skip detention with him?"
Tezuka sighed, "Ryoma, don't make this difficult for me."
They were sitting side by side under a tree that afforded them plenty of shade and enough privacy, but Tezuka still couldn't help feeling a little bit wary. Ryoma, in a rush of possessiveness, had christened it their tree, although Tezuka found it a little amusing.
"You like him, don't you?"
Tezuka said nothing, he felt Ryoma's thumb rub at his palm. He couldn't bring himself to answer. He didn't exactly know why, but it seemed that 'like' was too simple a word to pin down the exact emotions he held towards Fuji Syusuke, a man who enthralled him way too easily.
Perhaps it was just that, he was enthralled to follow, like a lamb to certain slaughter.
"But I love you." Ryoma said, drawing Tezuka from his thoughts once more, "Kunimitsu, I'll love you more than he'll ever love you. Fuji-sensei hates you. He rips on you all the time, doesn't he?"
This was the first time Tezuka had ever heard Ryoma beg. Probably because the boy had too much pride, if there was one thing he learned from being with Tezuka all the time.
Still, Tezuka said nothing.
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Fuji spent a relaxing day at home, reading and grading papers. Yuuta had called once to check up on him, because Fuji knew if he had not faked a cold, he was pretty positive his younger brother would have flown into a tirade otherwise. Shiraishi had been a darling too, he had delivered lunch on his break, although Fuji could have sworn he insisted otherwise.
So when the door bell rang, he was surprised, Yuuta had his own key, and Shiraishi usually always tried the door first and if the door wasn't open, he'd call in until someone answered.
"Coming."
But when he unlocked the door, Fuji did a double take.
Tezuka Kunimitsu stood there, looking rather sheepish. Looking past him, Fuji saw a taxi parked inconspicuously around the corner.
"Tezuka...kun? What are you doing here?"
"I..." For the first time in Fuji's memory, his student hesitated, "I figured you were sick."
"That still does not explain how you got my address." Fuji said, trying to keep his voice even while his heart nearly pounded its way out of his rib cage altogether. He almost couldn't breathe.
"If I could get your phone number, your address is easy." Tezuka said, "I can get anything I want."
How true that was, Fuji thought wryly, as he considered slamming the door in Tezuka's face. "That's not true." He said, "If you came here with nothing intelligent to say, they I suggest you leave."
Tezuka said nothing.
"I want to know what it means, sensei."
Fuji swallowed a rising lump in his throat, "What?"
"When I said I missed you, I meant it." The words came out hesitantly, as if Tezuka had to force them out one by one. "And you were awake to answer."
"That doesn't mean anything, Tezuka-kun."
Tezuka bit his lip, "Yes, it does."
Fuji stepped one step backwards, so he was safely back in his hallway, "What does it mean?"
"I don't know."
Before he lost it, Fuji groped for the door handle. "Leave." He said, although he knew his voice was not completely steady. "I don't know what it means. I don't want to know."
"Is it because I'm seventeen?"
That made Fuji pause. Seventeen wasn't all that far away from twenty-three, but still the fact remained that the only reason Tezuka Kunimitsu even came to his attention was because he had fractured Oishi's wrist. And even if the boy hadn't been under his jurisdiction, it was hardly an ideal way to start any sort of relationship.
"No, Tezuka-kun."
"Then what?"
"I just can't." Fuji said, "So go away and just leave me alone." He just had to add, "Like you should."
"I'm not good at that, doing things I should be."
Fuji said, "You should start."
The boy sighed, "You're stubborn."
That made Fuji smile, just a little. "You wouldn't be here if I wasn't."
"So you lured me here." Tezuka shook his head, "How very mature of you, sensei."
"I didn't lure you anyplace. You chose to come here of your own discretion." Fuji said.
"Sensei, let's start over."
Fuji closed his eyes tight and leaned against the doorknob. "We never even started." He said softly.
Without him knowing it, Tezuka had pried his hand from the knob and he was holding him. Fuji thought that his student was also warm and familiar, yet completely different from Shiraishi.
"So why can't we start?" The words tickled the top of Fuji's hair.
"Because I'm stubborn, and we can't. That's all."
Fuji felt Tezuka smirk with his lips buried in his hair. "...I have an advantage, sensei."
"What advantage?" Fuji's face felt unnaturally warm, like it had with the phone call.
"I'm more stubborn than you." Just as suddenly, Tezuka broke away, and it left Fuji temporarily at a loss as his arms dropped limply back to his side. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, sensei."