Author's Note: I'm back! I apologize for the delay. I would also like to note that this chapter begins before Ryoma shows up and ends after he leaves. In other words, this is what Fuji (and Mizuki) were doing before Ryoma got there and after he left. There may be a tiny bit of lemon, but I'm trying to keep this to PG-13. If you want pointless naughtiness, go read my other TeniPuri fic, Just the Beginning.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own it. And probably never will.
Replaced
Chapter Two: Twisted Loyalties
Summary: YAOI. Fuji's attempt to make things right for his little brother spins totally out of control. Mizuki digs up the past, hitting a nerve and pulling Fuji apart piece by piece by piece. Can Fuji get things back under control, or will the mask he's kept firmly in place for so long finally shatter?
Pairings: Mizuki/Yuuta, Mizuki/Fuji, Atobe/Ryoma, reference to one sided Tezuka/Atobe and Fuji/Tezuka
"Please!" Yuuta cried, tugging at his aniki's shirt. He wanted his brother to talk to Mizuki, but he had been pleading like this for about half an hour and his stupid, stupid aniki had been vehemently refusing to go within ten feet of "that psychotic, demented, freakishly annoying jerk." Yuuta flopped back into his seat on the couch crossing his arms and glaring at the object of his frustration, namely one Fuji Syusuke.
Fuji saw Yuuta glaring at him out of the corner of his eye, and a tiny pang of guilt stung him. He absolutely despised Mizuki Hajime. However, Yuuta seemed to have become rather fond of him. Much to his brother's annoyance. Fuji sighed and sat down next to Yuuta. "Why is it that you want me to talk to him?" The last word was ground out with a bit of difficulty. Yuuta sat up and looked at his brother. "So you'll do it?" Fuji seriously considered saying no, but the pure relief in his younger brother's voice stopped the thought cold. "Yes. Now what is it that you want me to talk to him about?" Yuuta slouched down in his seat, chewing on his lower lip and behaving in a rather non-Yuuta-like manner. "Well . . ., lately he's been really quiet and he's always shut up in his study looking over the data he's taken on recent matches. He never says anything to me when he gets back to the dorm, he just goes back and shuts himself up in his room." "And you want me to find out why." It was a statement, blatantly pointing out Yuuta's unspoken doubts. "Please?" Fuji sighed; Yuuta was unusually good at looking pathetic. "When?" "He's coming tonight, at 8:00." Fuji looked at his watch and ground his teeth. He had less than an hour. He wandered off, wondering how in the hell he was going to get Mizuki to talk to him about Yuuta.
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Fuji heard the doorbell ring, and walked down the hallway, cursing time for passing so damn quickly. He opened the door and was met by one of Mizuki's famously malevolent smiles. "Hello, Mizuki-san." Was the stiff greeting that Fuji managed to get out, causing Mizuki's smile to widen considerably and making Fuji want to knock it right off of his face. "Hmm, you seem rather . . . upset, Syusuke." Once again, Fuji was tempted to knock Mizuki flat on his ass for his sheer audacity.
Syusuke? What does he think gives him the right to-
"I'd like to come inside if you don't mind, it's rather cold out here." Fuji frowned at the deceptively pleasant request. "Of course." he said, stepping aside and allowing Mizuki to enter, resisting the strong urge to kick his smart ass all the way down the hallway. Mizuki's gaze flicked quickly over to Yuuta before he continued down the hallway and up the stairs. It took all the willpower Fuji possessed not to yank him right back down into the living room. "Mizuki-san?" The black-haired boy didn't falter. "Yes, Syusuke-kun? Fuji's hands balled into tight fists, his nails biting painfully into his palms. "Where, may I ask, are you going?" "To your bedroom. I assume you'd rather we speak privately?" Yuuta's grip on the armrest of the couch tightened, his eyes pleading for his brother to follow Mizuki's lead. "Certainly." The brunette said, smile never faltering.
Fuji got up to his bedroom and saw Mizuki picking through the picture frames on his shelf, watching as he worked his way over to the bedside table, where a solitary silver frame stood. He walked over and snatched the frame from Mizuki, setting it carefully back down. He turned around and saw Mizuki smirking. "So you still have a picture of Tezuka on your table. Do you entertain some notion that he watches over you as you sleep? Mizuki said, walking closer to Fuji. He glanced at the boy before continuing. "Do you still love him? You do, don't you? But he doesn't care about you. He never did. Every time he was with you, he was thinking of him. His lips kissing down his body, not yours. Then he finally got tired of pretending. How does it make you feel to know that he chose the one who's hurt him so much over you? How does it make you feel to think of Atobe Keigo with Tezuka? Your Tezuka. It eats you up that he chose him over you, doesn't it?" "Shut up." Mizuki looked over at the other boy, his eyes were now wide open and glaring. "But why? I'm just telling the truth. Besides, I thought you were with that prodigy now. Ryoma, is it? But maybe he knows that you don't really want him. Maybe he can tell that the only one you're after is the one you can't have." Mizuki suddenly found himself slammed hard against the wall. He looked straight at Fuji, straight into those blazing blue eyes. And smiled.
"Hmm, you seem upset." "Shut up." Mizuki's smile widened. "Syusuke, what you don't realize, is that Tezuka and I, we're actually very similar. We both wanted something, but settled for less. And just as he did, I've grown rather bored with pretending. Yuuta's good, but he's not you. He doesn't have the passion, the fire, that you do." Mizuki whispered, sucking gently on Fuji's ear. Fuji tried to twist away, but only succeeded in giving Mizuki the opportunity to kiss him, biting at his bottom lip. "Get off of me!" Fuji snapped, trying to shove the other boy away. He ended up losing his balance and falling roughly onto the bed. Mizuki followed, straddling his waist and begin to work the buttons of the school shirt that Fuji was still wearing. Fuji squirmed, trying to free his arms from beneath him. He let out an involuntary gasp as Mizuki tossed his shirt to the side and began to nip and lick at his chest. He brought his hands up, intending to push Mizuki away, but letting them fall back to his sides as Mizuki rubbed roughly against his crotch, before undoing the button and zipper of the pants and removing them, along with the white cotton boxers. Mizuki took the brunette into his mouth, moving faster when he felt the tensai's hands pulling at his hair.
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Mizuki looked up when he heard the door open. He bit back a laugh when he realized that Fuji's boyfriend had just walked in on them. Fuji's eyes went wide, and Mizuki sat back to watch the show.
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Ryoma stormed out and the door slammed shut. Mizuki frowned as he was unceremoniously shoved off of the bed. Fuji glared at him. "Get out." Mizuki snickered. "What's wrong Syusuke?" Mizuki's khaki pants and lilac shirt were thrown at his face. "Get out. Go home and stay the hell away from my brother." As soon as Mizuki had pulled on his shirt, he was led roughly down the stairs, and shoved outside, door slammed behind him. "Polite one, him." Mizuki muttered sarcastically before walking off in the general direction of the bus stop.
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Yuuta looked away from the television when he heard the door slam. He saw his brother standing in the hallway, looking seriously pissed. "Aniki?" He heard his brother take a deep breath. "Yes, Yuuta?" Yuuta raised an eyebrow. "How did things go with Mizuki-san?" Fuji glared. "You are never to see that boy again." Yuuta dropped his popcorn. "What? Why?!?" "Because I said so." said Fuji, turning to walk back up the stairs. "That's not fair!" Yuuta protested. "You heard what I said." Yuuta glared and went back to his usually grumpy-I-hate-everything-and-especially-you attitude. "I really hate you." Fuji turned around and looked straight at Yuuta. "I really don't care." He snapped, before storming up the stairs to straighten his room.
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Ryoma groaned as the phone rang for about the twentieth time. "Mada mada da ne." He finally heard someone pick up the phone. "Usu." Ryoma glared at the phone for a good minute. "Let me talk to Atobe." He said, as calmly as humanly possible. "Usu." He glared at the phone again, muttering a few choice words. "NOW." "Usu.", then, "Hello, you have reached Ore-sama's cell phone, in what way would you like to worship me?" Ryoma tugged his baseball cap down over his eyes. "Mada mada da ne." "Oh, Ryoma-chan! Is there something you need?" Ryoma tugged his baseball cap lower and seriously thought about putting the phone right back on the hook. "Mada mada- . . ., are you doing anything tonight?"
To be continued in Chapter Three . . .