This story is for Arithkenshin, a good friend of mine who writes brilliant Tenipuri fics (just search the username). Enjoy!
This Beautiful Drowning
Sometimes Tezuka likes to see the world without his glasses. Without them the edges of the world is fuzzy, but his other senses sharpen. This gives him a whole new perspective on many things.
At other times, the glasses are his barrier against the world. He feels safe behind them, the lenses filtering everything before it reaches his eyes.
Being short-sighted, he gets a dizzy feeling when he takes them off, when the world rushes towards him and he feels. He drinks in the world and feels himself drown.
Tezuka does not know which world he likes more, but he is never careless. So he chooses the world that is, to him, safe.
Tennis is the only common thing between them. They do not talk much outside practice: the occasional borrowing of a dictionary; the random meetings at the lunch queue.
"Tezuka."
"Hmm?"
"How's your day going?"
"Uneventful. What's that?"
"Fried-soba bun."
"Looks nice."
"It is."
That is how their conversation would have gone, if they actually talk to each other.
In reality Fuji smiles and Tezuka nods, and the conversation ends before it even starts.
Fuji never asks before he does things.
They eat on the roof - Tezuka, Ooishi and Inui. They are not supposed to, but student council president, top student of the year group, and best science student who helps out at the labs are not told off for such minor things.
The school's renowned genius, too, gets these unspoken privileges. Sometimes he finds the trio on the roof and sits to eat with them. He does not ask if anyone minds if he sits down, and nobody says anything.
Things get interesting when Fuji joins them. Tezuka knows these meetings are planned rather than random - who in their right minds would bring unacha to school, or a huge lunchbox full of things in small portions - chicken, dumplings, mini rolls - with one particular piece spiced up with abnormal amounts of chilli? Fuji does not ask if anyone wants his lunch, but the unacha always ends up in front of Tezuka, and nobody says anything.
The lunchbox would be shared. With chopsticks they all pick a piece of food out of Fuji's lunchbox, and the four stare at each other and eat at the same time, seeing if anyone gets the "bomb". It may be bad luck, or the tensai knowing exactly how they would sit and which piece they would pick up, and arranging the food in the box accordingly (the latter actually seems more likely), but Ooishi is almost always the one who gets his tongue ruined. If Fuji is feeling nice, he would have a new bottle of water ready and offer it to the poor boy.
Afterwards when they continue their lunch and Fuji has nothing to drink, he does not ask before he drinks out of Tezuka's bottle. If anyone has noticed this, nobody is saying anything.
Tezuka does not claim to be smart, but he is definitely not stupid.
When the phone in his room rings in the middle of the night, and he picks it up to hear nothing but ragged breathing, he knows what is going on. Instead of putting the phone down he talks, just anything that comes to his mind, and his body jumps when he hears the breathing become harsher, when a voice murmurs his name.
Putting the phone on the pillow and laying on his side so that he can keep listening, Tezuka touches himself, imagines the hands belong to the person on the other side of the phone, and the hot body against his. They do not say anything coherent then, only the occasional gasp of Tezuka's name in-between desperate moans, and later the choked, whispered words "in me", which tells Tezuka where the other's finger is going.
Hands speed up and the world explodes into colours despite the darkness. Tezuka listens to the other side, until the heavy breathing dies down, then he turns the phone off. No words are said; they never say much to each other.
Fuji and Tezuka talk more when it comes to tennis. They watch the match between Seigaku and St. Rudolph play out, and Fuji's whispered words tell Tezuka the boy hates himself more than his brother hates him. There is pride and sorrow in the voice. Then when Yuuta uses the twist spin shot, Tezuka sees seething, unspoken anger.
He goes away for a moment, and comes back with a carton of juice, offering it to Fuji. Fuji glances from the carton, up to Tezuka, his face so blank even the usual smile is missing. The bespectacled boy pauses, thinks, and puts the straw into the carton, taking a swing from it, then he offers it to Fuji again.
What difference this makes Tezuka does not know, but this time Fuji accepts the offer. Two hands clasp the hand that is holding out the carton, then Fuji bends down to drink, cerulean eyes closing and lips smiling around the straw, sucking slowly with a soft, appreciative sigh.
The moment does not last long, but Tezuka finds himself breathing through his mouth, his heart racing so much the fingers on his wrist must be able to feel the fast pulses. He gasps and yanks the hand away, eyes behind rimless glasses glaring angrily at Fuji, but Fuji just smiles at him, and turns his attention back to the match.
They know their own strength. As the player standing on the other side of the court, Tezuka knows Fuji's tennis is better than his. He challenges Fuji, and the boy dodges, prefering to be second best and supporting the captain this way. He arranges for Fuji to play with others, and the boy still does only just enough for him to win by a small margin. Tezuka barks at the boy, asking him why he would not try his best, and Fuji does not give Tezuka an answer, telling him to take him off the regulars' list instead.
The conversation leads to nowhere, and they go back to the club room to get out of the rain. The handle of the door breaks as Tezuka closes it, the sharp edge splitting skin and a bit of flesh. He looks across the room and sees Fuji walk towards him with a frown, then takes the injured hand in his own to examine the shallow cut.
Tezuka does not move when Fuji bends down to lap at the blood.
He does not move, either, when Fuji presses soft, blood-stained lips to his.
His mind screams that this is not the safe world he wants to be in, this is real and not a call at 3am that can be dismissed as a prank, but something is undone inside him, and he leans heavily against the door, sliding down bonelessly until he is sitting on the cold floor, and he lets Fuji kiss him, parting lips for the tongue to play in his mouth. Fuji kneels between Tezuka's legs and buries his face in Tezuka's chest and says with a trembling voice that he wants Tezuka so much he is drowning and he is scared of himself. Tezuka does not reply, just wanting Fuji to drag him down with him.
Then they stand up and get towels from their lockers, as if nothing happened. They dry themselves of rainwater, bandage Tezuka's cut properly, and the captain makes a call for help since they cannot open the door.
Sitting on the plastic bench, Fuji says he does not want anyone to come to their rescue.
A shiver runs down Tezuka's spine when he licks his lips and tastes the tinge of blood. He does not respond to Fuji's words, but takes his glasses off to wipe them dry, keeping his eyes firmly closed.
Later that night, Tezuka touches himself in bed, thinking of cerulean eyes and heated kisses and eagerly sucking lips. He makes a call and it is picked up on the first ring. This time it is more vocal, Tezuka is told where the other's hands exactly are, so he imagines himself thrusting into that body, extracting those cries of pleasure.
Afterwards, when Tezuka is about to hang up, the other side asks him hesitantly if he wants to give it a try. Alone in the darkness, with no barrier between him and the world, Tezuka thinks of cerulean eyes and heated kisses and eagerly sucking lips, and of unspoken words and shared lunches and self-sacrificing support. He thinks of his own feelings whenever he sees the other.
If the lights are on and he is wearing his glasses, Tezuka would have chosen the safer world and hung up. But the other has caught him out when his senses are the sharpest and he does not want this drowning sensation to end.
Fuji still never asks before he does things, but now him and Tezuka talk outside tennis.
"Tezuka."
"Hmm?"
"How's your day going?"
"Uneventful. What's that?"
"Fried-soba bun."
"Looks nice."
"It is. Have a bite."
Ooishi and Inui exchange curious glances, but they do not say anything.
On the sofa, leaning lazily against him, Fuji plays with the glasses, fingering the arms and looking through the lenses, surprised at how poor Tezuka's vision is.
Being extremely short-sighted, Tezuka feels the impact of the world on him when he takes off his glasses. When everything blurs before his eyes, he listens and feels, rather than watches. He likes to take them off when he is with Fuji because he feels him better that way, without the barrier that filters out the raw emotions between them. It also gives him an excuse to lean very close to Fuji just to see his face.
Turning around to suddenly find Tezuka so close, Fuji blinks several times, and smiles.
Tezuka understands when Fuji said he did not want anyone to come to their rescue.
They do not want this beautiful drowning to ever end.
[end]
Thanks for reading. Comments welcomed.