Thanks for all the reviews, and sorry this took so long. I also changed the rating to T. Also, please be reminded that the previous part uploaded isn't chapter 1, but a just a prologue.

All disclaimers apply.

THE SCARLET STAIN

Beautiful Taboo

(uno)

Fuji Syuusuke had a normal school life until the month before graduating college. That was when he finally went out of the closet and told Tezuka one day when they both got drunk. Well, at least Tezuka did, as Fuji had planned. After confessing, though, he wished that Tezuka would just wake up with a hangover and think that everything was just a dream.

But that was nothing but wishful thinking, because before Fuji made his great escape, Tezuka just happened to say 'Stay' in the most seductive way possible. Needless to say, Fuji took advantage of the drunkenness and just had Tezuka do him right there and then on Tezuka's apartment floor. Tezuka therefore woke up with a naked, sleeping Fuji beside him, and a soiled blanket on top of them.

Who could blame Fuji? It had been five years of restraint.

"I love you, Tezuka," he explained in what he hoped to be his regular voice, covering himself with his blanket as Tezuka's stare greeted him good morning. "All this time."

Tezuka, by this time, was fully clothed. He pushed Fuji away and walked out.

It took weeks before Tezuka looked at him again.

As with the fate of some homosexuals, the day Tezuka talked to him again also happened to be the second day of them doing it. It was a month after The Incident, and he appeared in front of Fuji's apartment room and apologized and Fuji apologized back and things took the natural flow and they ended up having sex again on Fuji's table top. This time, though, Tezuka was sober. And he didn't leave right after dressing up.

Instead, they had a talk.

"Coffee?" Fuji offered, bright and beaming, as with a girl in love.

"Yes, please."

Fuji sat in front of Tezuka and watched him drink his coffee in his Tezuka way. God, the man was sexy, he thought, and he was about to say it out loud when Tezuka cut his thoughts off.

"I think we shouldn't do this again."

Fuji's mouth hung open. "You mind, don't you? You don't like how I've turned out."

"Of course, I mind," he replied in a measured face. "I care. You weren't supposed to be like… this." Fuji looked away, gripping his teapot with shaking hands. "Syuusuke," Tezuka said, putting his hand over Fuji's, squeezing it firmly. "I'm straight."

Fuji would've swooned there and then at the feeling of Tezuka's hand on his, but considering the context of the conversation, he was edging more and more towards blowing his top. "Goddamn right, you're straight. After a night of wild sex with another man and then holding my hand, you're telling me to keep it casual? Who do you think I am, your bitch?" The words were on the tip of Fuji's tongue.

Instead, he swallowed them off and he smiled. "Saa, I understand."

Oh well. Just call him 'bitch'.

"I'm glad you do." He patted Fuji's hand and stood up. "Thank you for the coffee."

With that, Tezuka left the apartment.

Days later, he would come back and apologize AGAIN, which, of course, led to another round. The morning scene replayed. The fact that Tezuka was straight was always emphasized, and Fuji knew that all of these were his fault for being different, for wanting the wrong thing from the wrong person.

This went on and on until graduation, and both sides eventually figured out what everything was about:

They had become friends with benefits. Nothing more. Everything less.

Now, you're probably wondering why we just have to rush through this certain part of the story. This is because that is not where we begin, and this is not what our story will be about.

Our story began one day, four years after The Incident.

Expectedly, there had been other Incidents after, but despite that, Tezuka eventually got married to his high school sweetheart. He came over once in a while. Sometimes, to talk, to reminisce about the old days. There would be sex, but less than before. Tezuka said that this was because their hormones have tamed down. Fuji said nothing about his, though. It was true that what he got wasn't enough, but he certainly wasn't the type who'd grovel on the floor begging for it.

On that particular day, Tezuka came over to talk.

"How is work going for you?" Tezuka asked politely, as he held out a cup for Fuji to pour tea in.

"Fine," Fuji replied chirpily. "Everyone's generally nice to the newbies at first. It's better than my first job. Office work had never been meant for me. Would you like to see the pictures I've taken for the centerfold? They were shoo-ins."

"I'd love to."

Sometimes, Fuji wondered if he and Tezuka had ever crossed the boundary of friendship. When they talked, they were always polite and reserved. But Fuji liked this kind of Tezuka, too.

He watched as Tezuka sifted through his portfolio, nodding towards the ones he liked best.

"Mitsu, how's Asami-chan doing?" Fuji piped up, as he sat on the couch in front of Tezuka.

Tezuka smiled slightly, beaming. "She's doing well, thank you. We're going to the hospital for her monthly check tomorrow."

Fuji chuckled. "I'm guessing that the little kid would grow up looking like you. Though I certainly hope not. Especially if it's a girl."

All of a sudden, Tezuka closed the portfolio and looked at Fuji. "There's something I've wanted to say…"

Shit. Fuji closed his eyes tightly, bracing himself. These were the moments that scared him the most. Would Tezuka break it off with him right there and then? He and his wife were about to have a kid. It would be the logical thing to do. It would be-

"Echizen is coming home tomorrow, and I was wondering if you could pick him up?"

"Of course, I understand your decision. I've always thought that—wait, what?" Fuji opened his eyes and stared at Tezuka. "E-Echizen."

"Yes. You haven't forgotten about him, have you?"

"How could I ever forget?" Fuji smiled, relief flooding through him. Come that point, he would be ready to do anything. Even grovel on the floor. "And I'd love to."

The airport wasn't crowded that day. In fact, Fuji had managed to spot the Fila cap-wearing Echizen Ryoma within minutes of his flight's landing. If anything, nothing much had changed for the tennis prodigy, except for an apparent growth spurt and longer hair and a more apparent aura of being better than everyone else and knowing it.

"Mitsu told me to say hello."

Ryoma nodded. "Hello, Fuji-sempai." He paused and observed Fuji intently. "You look strange when your hair's like that."

Fuji felt himself flush at what he thought was a compliment. "Thank you," he replied, fingering his small ponytail. "You look quite nice, yourself. You grew out your hair?"

"Didn't have time to cut it." Ryoma stretched his neck to look around. Fuji noticed the funny way Ryoma's dark hair brushed against the pale skin at the back of his neck. It sort of reminded him of Tezuka's neck when Fuji reached out to—Stop. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.

"He – Mitsu – isn't here."

"I know. I was wondering if I could have a match with you somewhere here."

Fuji laughed nervously, managing to push his thoughts to the back of his mind at the last minute. "I didn't bring my racket. Maybe some other time." He bent down to pick up one of Ryoma's bags. "Try to be normal and show some signs of jet lag, will you? I'm supposed to bring you to your hotel. Shall we go?"

The boy nodded and picked up the rest of his luggage, following Fuji obediently, and feeling the jet lag finally kick in.

Fuji had been pleased to find out that Ryoma wasn't as tight-lipped as before. Once he initiated the conversation, the boy actually took it to himself to reply properly. It seemed that Ryoma still kept on playing tennis and making money out of his game. And he'd been doing well over in America, as well. He'd also listened intently as Fuji talk about his job as a photographer for a magazine, and how Tezuka had been doing with his wife.

"I'd like to play against buchou before I go."

Fuji smiled. "When will that be?"

"I don't know yet," Ryoma replied. He placed his head on his palm and looked upward. "Maybe after I play against him?"

"You never change. Haven't you ever thought that maybe Mitsu is a beer-bellied office man by now?"

"Never," Ryoma replied straight-facedly. "And how about our match?"

Fuji shrugged slightly. "Not today." He patted the camera bag on top of the table. "I have to go back to work by two. How about you?"

After sighing in displeasure, Ryoma leaned against his chair and yawned. "Some interview."

"Saa, famous, aren't we? I bet you're some kind of a heartthrob. Speaking of, how was it with Ryuzaki-chan?"

Ryoma smirked. "What 'it' are you talking about, sempai?" He had leaned across the table, his eyes flickering in interest.

"We all know you had something going on with her back then." He punched Ryoma slightly on the shoulder. "Tell me."

"There wasn't anything. Nothing happened."

"Oh. That's too bad. She even followed you to America and everything."

"She went back quicker than I expected," Ryoma pulled back and placed his hands behind his head. "But I guess we're in the same boat right now, then."

Fuji's eyes flicked open.

"Come on, sempai," Ryoma said in a low voice, the smirk still on his face. "We all knew you had something going on with 'Mitsu' back then," he echoed. "As Momo-sempai put it, it was written all across your face."

Fuji smiled. "Nonsense." But his mind had began to calculate when and how this must be possible. If he remembered it correctly, he had come to terms with his orientation by senior year of high school. By that time, Ryoma had gone to America and Momoshiro had entered another school. "Nonsense."

"Mada mada dane."

Fuji stood up, shaken but not willing to show it. "I should be going now." He was almost too sure. Ryoma knew something. He definitely did. He glanced nervously at his watch.

"I'll come by sometime, sempai."

Fuji had already left.

Fuji had tried to avoid being in Ryoma's company since then. He had been tempted to go a few times, when Momoshiro or Inui called him up for some get-together and drinking, to celebrate Ryoma's coming home. He made up excuses about being busy and about dropping by next time. He made sure he never did, though.

Nobody except for Tezuka knew about… him. Fuji had managed to put up a good façade in front of his family and friends by going out with the occasional interested female friend. He knew that there had been some guesses about him way back in junior high, but no one really confronted him about it upfront except for that day in the hotel with Ryoma. It scared him.

Well, actually, he lied.

There was someone else who knew.

His boss from his past work.

For some reason, the boss had taken interest in him and brought him home. Fuji had never really intended to sleep with him. He was drunk and he needed someone to help him walk. That night, they had sex. This was during the time when Tezuka was about to get married.

The next morning, things were different. When his boss woke up, hangover and all, he said he wanted to talk. He asked Fuji to go out with him, gave him the usual "I've been in love with you since the first time I saw you" speech, and managed to sleep with him for the second time. Fuji, for once, had felt happy about himself.

And then, his wife found out.

Without any warning, Fuji was called into his office and was told that he was fired. And that he was dumped.

"Who'd go out with a fag like you?" he sneered. "I was keeping you for the sex."

Fuji shrugged and socked his boss in the mug. "I was keeping you for the sex," he said, smiling his usual smile. "And you weren't even good."

He left with his head held high, but he ended up locking himself in his apartment for a while.

It had been a long time since he remembered. But sitting alone in your dining room with store-bought bento while your friends are probably out drinking and catching up with each other called for it. He was feeling particularly miserable, so miserable that once his apartment bell rang, he jumped out of his seat and practically ran to the door to open it with a smile on his face.

It was Tezuka.

"Mitsu!" He immediately wrapped his arms around him. It had been days. And he thought that it would be a paper boy or a neighbor or something.

"I went home early when I found out that you weren't there." He pushed his bangs from his forehead. "I was worried. They said you weren't feeling well."

Jesus. Good Jesus. Thank you. Fuji buried his face into Tezuka's coat. He could still feel the cold from outside. Tezuka embraced back and they went inside.

He forgot about everything else.

Later that night, Fuji was sitting on his bed comfortably as he tried to take in everything that Tezuka had left in his room – his scent, his warmth, and the temporary feeling of owning him. It was enough to make Fuji smile to himself, despite the fact that Tezuka couldn't sleep over because Asami needed him for her exercises.

The doorbell rang again, and Fuji jumped out of bed quickly, not bothering to cover up because Tezuka most probably have come back to take his scarf, which he forgot to pick up before leaving.

"Mitsu, here's your-"

"Ah."

Fuji's eyes widened. It was Ryoma, looking at him from head to foot.

"Good evening, Fuji-sempai."

TO BE CONTINUED

When I'm about to write chapter two and reread this, I'd probably think, "What the fuck did I just write?" Anyway, I'm just happy that I managed to put out the premise of the whole story. And I'm posting it right now before I get too embarrassed to post it later.

Btw, I've been having this dilemma ever since I started shipping Fuji x Ryoma. Who's the seme? o_o I like manly ukes so I'm tempted to make Ryoma uke but Fuji's so… uke-ish. It's really hard to decide when you put two ukes together. =_=; - BT