Title: February 29
Genre: General/G
Author: spilche / scube
(frivolity @ forbidden-lover . net)
Characters: Tezuka x Fuji
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis = Konomi Takeshi's.
Notes: Happy Birthday Fuji
:)
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Fuji was not quite used to sleeping early. He rather liked the private moments he had to himself at night. Sometimes, he stayed up to ponder at random events that occurred during the day; and other times, he liked to read a book or surf the Internet. As for this day, he was sitting alone in the dark of his room and staring mindlessly at the almost blinding screen of his television. He glanced distractedly at the clock on his bedside table and it was some 30 minutes to midnight.
The burst of melodic ringing from his cell phone startled him a little and he was momentarily dazed, wondering at the back of his mind, who in the world could be calling at such an unearthly hour. He hastily got up from his seat to pick up his phone, afraid that the incessant ringing might awake the household.
"Uhh..." The deep voice at the other end sounded hesitant and so very familiar.
"Ahh, is it Tezuka?" Fuji involuntarily broke into a smile.
Tezuka made a throaty noise to acknowledge that question, and a somewhat awkward silence ensued.
"Hmm, is anything the matter? Are you alright?" Fuji tried to break the ice.
"Uh, no... nothing, really. Just err..thought of calling you."
Fuji's eyes widened a little and he felt his heart skip a beat on hearing such an unexpectedly straightforward answer from Tezuka. He was now absently pacing his room.
"Uh, Fuji?"
"Ahh, yes... sorry, I was a little distracted," Fuji answered. "What's the time in Germany now?"
"Hmm... now? It's 3.35pm."
"Oh. So what are you doing?" Fuji asked casually, whilst drawing his curtains slightly to gaze at the cloudless night sky. It was peppered with faintly twinkling stars and the moon was a perfect semi-circle. Then, he scanned the empty streets just below, and he blinked.
"Eh. Wait a minute, Tezuka."
A tiny suppressed gasp was now audible from Tezuka's side of the phone.
"Hmm," Fuji's mouth curled into a devious smile. "Am I seeing things?"
"... Wh-what things?"
And Fuji decided that Tezuka wasn't a very good actor.
"Hang on there!"
Phone still in hand, Fuji retreated from his window and made a rush for the door. With as little noise and as much speed as were possible, he descended the stairs in the dark, leaping down three steps at a time, and made for the main door in big urgent strides. The air outside was a little chilly but he didn't seem to have noticed.
The gate made a loud offended creak when Fuji pushed it open hurriedly and emerged from his garden, glancing around excitedly at the vicinity.
However, the streets seemed a little different, or vacant, from what he saw from his room, and he felt a sharp twang. He sighed lightly, faint white vapour emerging from his mouth momentarily before fading into oblivion.
"Saa, guess I made a mistake after all," Fuji whispered sadly into the phone he was still holding.
"Ahem."
Fuji was surprised at how real that sounded even over the phone. Then, he turned his head and found what he had been looking for.
"Te-Tezuka!"
A line of exasperation was now clearly visible in Tezuka's brows. He frowned and looked a little disturbed at the slightly flustered Fuji.
"Why are you out here with your bedroom slippers?"
"No! Uh, but I mean -- what are you doing here?!" Fuji exclaimed, then adding as an afterthought hardly able to contain the incredulity in his voice, "Err, Germany? Luggage?"
Tezuka remained silent for a few seconds and Fuji was inwardly amused at how Tezuka looked like he was trying very hard to organise his thoughts.
"I just got off the plane," explained an exasperated Tezuka finally. "I didn't expect you to see me so soon." Tezuka paused, and continued with the slightest trace of sulkiness in his voice, "I had wanted to wait till midnight before..."
Fuji looked endearingly at Tezuka and smiled, a warm and fuzzy feeling overwhelming him suddenly. Neither said a word for the next few moments but Fuji felt strangely contented that way.
"Happy Birthday, Fuji," Tezuka whispered softly, the faintest of a smile now visible in his eyes. Then a little teasingly, he added, "Only once in four years, right?"
Fuji shivered a little -- perhaps due to the chilly night wind, perhaps not -- and he felt his chest tighten a little. His surroundings seem to be whirling and he groped around consequently, clumsily holding on to Tezuka's arm for the anchor he needed. He relaxed his grip after a while, and traced his long and sensitive fingers along the contour of Tezuka's arm, finally reaching Tezuka's hands, his fingers curling around Tezuka's to give them a delighted squeeze. Then, suddenly realising how great an opportunity this actually was, he tiptoed and reached directly for Tezuka's mouth.
Moments later, Tezuka asked with mock reproach, "Now, what was that?"
"Just claiming my birthday present."
