A/N: Hi everyone, I'm sorry for the late update, things have been hectic around here lately and real life has taken the front seat once again. I hope everyone is, unlike me, enjoying the last stretch of summer. This chapter is something of a filler, but I think it'd become important later on. Much love to my many reviewers! I passed 100!! Do you know how happy that makes me?? And of course, hugs to hakkaisensei for beta-reading, as always. I love you all! Have a good read.

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IX

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Echizen Ryoma was something of a wonder, even though Fuji would never fully grasp that wonder. Anyone who dared to have Atobe Keigo call him lover was someone to be feared. The boy had opened the door wearing only a towel, and his olive locks were damp.

"Fuji-niisan." Ryoma was surprised, and then not; he opened the door wider. "Come in, I just got out of the shower, hope you don't mind."

"I don't." Fuji smiled as he stepped in. "But then, let me remind you that I'm not Atobe-sama, so you don't have to try so hard." He closed the door and sat on the couch. The leather smelled fresh.

Ryoma smirked, a catlike smirk that said he knew very well that he was all things "You're not Keigo, that's precisely why you shouldn't worry so much."

Keigo. Fuji pulled his knees up to his chest and watched the boy get dressed. He had the feeling that not many people were allowed to address the country's biggest business tycoon (or God) so casually. Ryoma had every right to be proud.

"So..." The boy's white back was clothed with dark blue silk, "What do you want?"

"I can't come because I want to see you?" Fuji pretended innocence.

"You're Fuji-niisan, you always want something." But Ryoma shrugged; he was used to this already. "You want some tea?"

"No thanks."

"Okay, fine." The boy took a seat next to him. "What then?"

Fuji sighed; he had replayed his request out a million times, and in the end... "Has Atobe-sama been in, lately?" he began rather lamely.

"Oh, that." Ryoma crossed his ankles and looked up at the ceiling. "He came yesterday, but things are busy so I don't know whether or not he's coming again any time soon. Why do you ask? Don't you hate him?"

Ryoma was jealous, and for that, Fuji laughed at him. "I hate him, don't worry. I wouldn't steal Atobe-sama from you. I thought you knew me."

"I do know you, but that also means that I know you like to change your mind about things."

"Brat." But Fuji said it smiling.

"Mada mada dane." Ryoma rolled his eyes. "So…what is this about Keigo?"

"Do you remember, sometime ago, when he brought along a friend named Tezuka? Did he say anything about Tezuka-sama when he was with you?"

Fuji held his breath waiting for the answer. It had been more than a week (ten days exactly), since he and Tezuka had last spoken, and even then, they had parted on a sour note. He had called the man five or six times since then, but Tezuka hadn't picked up, and neither had the man returned his calls.

"Oh. That." Ryoma was relieved; he recrossed his ankles again, "...He said he just brought someone that he thought needed a good lay, that's all. I think it's someone from work."

"Yeah."

"That's the trouble with Keigo. He brings too many people that don't belong here. I mean, he got lucky with Yukimura and Sanada-sama, but...Keigo's not going to get lucky every time."

Atobe needed to teach his boy a good lesson, Fuji mused, watching the olive eyes laugh at him while those tantalizing lips smirked. Ryoma was really getting too cheeky for his own good.

"Do something for me; pass on a message to Atobe-sama." Fuji stood up to leave.

"Sure, what?" Karupin, Ryoma's cat, appeared out of nowhere and Ryoma scooped it up. The cat was a purebred, expensive as hell, as any other present from Atobe had to be.

Fuji said, "Tell him, when he comes next, that I'd like to see Tezuka-sama again. That's all." He let himself out.

-

Tezuka's life was back to normal. It was normal in the sense that he went to bed late, went to work early, did more than his fair share of work and consistently refused to drink with Atobe. There was no more mention of the brothel, and there was no more Fuji. His life was back to normal.

He liked his life normal, everything was orderly, predictable, and organized; absolutely nothing went wrong.

But he went back to not sleeping, and once in a while his phone would beep.

"...Tezuka-sama, it's me again."

Tezuka put his pen down and looked at the phone.

"I know you're really busy right now, probably, but I'd like to see you. That's all."

Tezuka didn't want to speak to Fuji, nor did he want to see the boy; the boy was full of all things too much for Tezuka. He could never handle Fuji. But even saying that much, Tezuka never did find the courage to pick up the phone and tell him not to call again.

For in truth, he liked hearing Fuji's voice. He liked it too much. When the message ended, Tezuka clicked 'call' again.

The message dutifully replayed itself.

"...Tezuka-sama, it's me again. I know you're really busy right now, but I'd like to see you, that's all."

-

"You're late."

Atobe smirked down at Ryoma, who blocked the doorway. It had been a week and a half since his last visit, and he was happy that the boy seemed annoyed to see him. It only meant that Ryoma had missed him.

"Sorry, I had a late dinner," Atobe shrugged. "Still, I came, yes? So be grateful."

The boy shook his head. "Che." Ryoma stepped aside to let the man in. "Did you come alone?"

Atobe was surprised, "Yes, I did."

"Oh."

Something was off. Atobe stepped inside the room and locked the door behind him. "Are you disappointed?"

"No." On his way to the couch, Ryoma scooped up Karupin and nuzzled the cat; if the boy was half as affectionate to him as he was to that damned cat, all Ryoma had to do was ask for the world and Atobe would have made sure that he got it.

Atobe himself sat on the couch, and watched the cat and the boy. After a few moments, Ryoma let Karupin go and sat on Atobe's lap with little hesitation.

Ryoma smelled fresh from a shower, the faint fragrance of honey lotion still clinging to the boy's skin. Atobe put his lips to the boy's neck and inhaled deeply.

"Did you miss me?"

Atobe felt the boy tense, and smirked. He moved down a few inches and slid the kimono off of the boy's shoulders. He was surprised, and then not, when Ryoma didn't fight him. The boy always put up a good fight, making Atobe work for what he wanted. Which was fine with him; Atobe didn't mind working.

He tipped the boy's chin back to kiss him and Ryoma let him.

Ryoma's eyes were glazed over. Atobe merely smiled down at him. Not a smirk, but a smile. It seemed improper for him to smirk like that when his Ryoma was being so willing.

"I have presents for you."

A small hand caught his own, and Ryoma shook his head. "You can give them to me later."

-

Later.

Ryoma's kimono was dirty, so he wore Atobe's dress shirt, which still smelled like French cologne, the scent of sweat not having tainted it at all. He sniffed gingerly and thought it clashed with his lotion. He returned to the couch and put down a tray of green tea with honey. It wasn't something he was particularly fond of but he was playing host, and his guest, who was always hard to please, wanted green tea with honey.

"Here you go."

He stood off to one side as Atobe uncurled himself from the couch. The man was completely at home in just a pair of boxers. He tasted the tea and winced.

"Why did you make it so sweet?"

Ryoma rolled his eyes. "It was all right when I tasted it."

"Well, your palate is nowhere as refined," Atobe glared at him. "- brat." But then Atobe smiled.

Brat. It was an insult that was so commonplace for Ryoma that it no longer stung. But now that he thought about it. He didn't know if Atobe had picked up the habit from Fuji or vice versa.

Even the possibility of Fuji-niisan having anything to do with Atobe, was unsettling to Ryoma. He shrugged, "You don't like it, fix it yourself."

There was a pause. Too long a pause. Atobe spoke, cutting through the silence.

"Ryoma."

"What?"

"Sit down." Atobe patted the spare leather cushion next to him.

Ryoma prided himself in knowing all of Atobe's tones, whether he was angry, pleased, horny even. This...wasn't anything.

"Ryoma, sit."

The boy did, gingerly. When one didn't know how to expect, Ryoma's base instincts always told him to expect the worst.

Instead, Atobe just pulled him close and kissed him for a long time. A very long time.

Then Atobe pulled away and smirked at him. "Being jealous doesn't suit you."

Ryoma opened his mouth and then closed it. He couldn't even muster a glare or a smirk of his own; he was too relieved.

Even that stupid curling thing that Atobe liked to do with his hair, that was comforting. Ryoma laid his head on the man's shoulder.

"And if you wanted to be jealous, pick a better person. Don't pick Fuji."

There was another long silence, Atobe had seen through him like usual. Arguing was futile, but Ryoma knew he couldn't give in that easily. He bit his lip. "I'm not jealous."

Atobe didn't say anything.

Ryoma shifted just slightly. "I was um...I actually was supposed to pass on a message from Fuji-niisan to you."

"Is it a nice message? If it's him telling me to go jump off a cliff, you can keep it to yourself."

Ryoma chuckled and laid a gentle kiss on the side of Atobe's neck. "Would Fuji-niisan say that? I don't think it's a bad message, if you say it like that. It actually confused me. He said to tell you he wants to see Tezuka-sama again?"

Atobe was surprised. "Tezuka?"

The boy nodded, "Yeah. Tezuka-sama."

-

Oshitari Yuushi was the type of person that adhered to rules that he liked. If you gave him rules that he didn't like, he'd bend the rules backwards until he liked them. But the trouble with Oshitari was that you had to offer him precise directions. If you left everything up to interpretation, more often than not, you would be disappointed.

"Be here when I wake up."

So when Fuji opened his eyes, Oshitari was there, staring down at him with an expression that Fuji hated; it was a cross between pity and concern, with more pity at the moment.

"Good morning, how do you feel?"

"Not good," Fuji replied in all honesty. After Mizuki-sama, he doubted anyone could feel anything but 'not good'. He wanted to throw up again, but he couldn't remember if there was anything left for him to vomit.

"Could I get you anything?"

"I want something hot to drink." Fuji shifted rather painfully on his side, "And...be honest, do I look horrible?"

Oshitari said nothing; he touched the side of Fuji's face, and let his fingers trail down to the boy's jawline. There was a bruise there, and he winced along with Fuji. "I'll get you some tea. You have a few bruises but it's nothing that I can't take care of."

Fuji nodded. "Would you...make it green tea with honey?"

The older man was surprised. "I thought you hated that drink."

"I do," Fuji assured him. "I just heard it would be good for you."

Oshitari let himself smirk. "Where'd you hear that? From Atobe?"

Fuji blanched, but only for half a second, and then his smile was back. "Of course not." He said, lying through his teeth.

Oshitari saw the untruth, but let it go. "Well, fine, whatever. Green tea with honey then. After that, I think you should have another bath, that's good for you too."

"Okay." Fuji wished Oshitari could say things in such a way so that they weren't quite so mocking. He burrowed deeper into the sheets and breathed the scent of clean cotton and herbs.

A knock sounded on the door.

Oshitari asked, "Should I get that?"

It didn't matter to Fuji. "Tell them to go away. I don't want to see anyone."

"All right, I can do that."

But Fuji wasn't surprised when he heard the door creak open, a few muffled words were exchanged and Fuji heard more than one pair of footsteps stop beside his bed. He stayed still, buried in the covers.

Atobe's voice said, "Is he sulking, or is he really sick?"

Oshitari: "...I think it's a little bit of both."

But the thing with Oshitari was that you couldn't count on him to stay loyal. He, like a wild river current, floated to wherever and whoever he wanted to. Fuji vaguely wondered if Echizen Ryoma knew that Atobe had always had a thing for Oshitari and came to him if he was tired of the boy.

Fuji wondered if he should tell Ryoma. It was very tempting.

"...I'm neither. I'm sore and sleepy," he spoke finally, flipping back the covers to reveal a few delicate bruises on his pale chest. "What the hell do you want, Atobe-sama?"

Fuji felt Atobe's eyes ghost his bruises and refused to wince. They didn't hurt, they were just unsightly.

"Who did this?" Atobe wanted to know.

Fuji almost wanted to laugh. Atobe always thought he knew so much, when in reality he really knew almost nothing at all. He shrugged one shoulder. "Mizuki-sama's been doing this for a year and a half now. I'm used to it." He smiled at Atobe. "Don't try to save me."

"But..."

"No. It's not what you think it is anyway. He just got carried away and left a few bruises. They'll be gone by tomorrow." Fuji laughed; it sounded bitter. "Besides, I forgot to lie to him. Mizuki-sama had every right to be angry with me."

Atobe was still confused, and Fuji liked it. Atobe was easier to handle when he was confused. "What do you mean?"

Somehow, Fuji expected it. Ryoma had always been a jealous boy. "Ahh, looks like Ryoma forgot to pass on my message."

A light dawned on Atobe's face, "...Tezuka?"

"Yes, Tezuka-sama." Fuji sat up and Oshitari fixed his pillows. "Have you been keeping him away from me too?"

"Quite the contrary. I actually wish he'd frequent here more often." Atobe shrugged. "Maybe you scared him away. Don't blame me."

"There's no one else to blame."

Atobe said nothing.

Oshitari looked at Fuji.

Fuji smiled; it was a smile of defeat. "I take that back, actually. Forgive me, Atobe-sama. I should be grateful—even flattered, that you came here to see me today. Unfortunately, I'm in no condition to entertain you today; nor am I really in the mood to try. So I'm going to have to ask you to leave."