Disclaimer: I don't own them! I swear! If I did, Prince of Tennis would have a lot less to do with tennis than it already does. (Let's be honest here: who actually watches the series for the matches? No-one? Right.) I am not making profit from this; I am writing this for my own demented amusement.

I don't own Facebook either.

All characters in this story are over the age of 18.

Chapter One: Ice cream is a terrible thing to waste

Sounds of a familiar tune filled the room. The lights were dimmed; the soft glow of two candles (one shaped like a two, the other shaped like a zero) lit upon the face of a grinning brunet.

"Happy birthday, Momo!"

Well wishes for the future followed the song and extinguished flames.

"Thanks, everyone!" Said grinning brunet flushed brightly at all the attention. He rubbed the back of his neck; a nervous habit of his.

Embarrassment eventually subsiding, he grabbed the triangular cake slicer with one hand and a spare plate with the other. "Who wants the first slice?"

Tezuka left the party early. He was exhausted. It was a little before 10 when he left the festivites; nearly an hour before their "lights-out" curfew. He sighed, but quickly regretted it. What little energy he had was seeping out of his body with every exhale. He just knew it. His key already in hand, he entered the small dorm room that he shared with his long-time friend, Fuji. He'd never been more grateful that the lights in their room were automatic. The dorm manager controlled whether or not the automatic feature was on or off, so Tezuka didn't even have to focus on flipping the switch. He didn't think he could muster up the concentration needed for such a menial task at this moment. With not a single cell in his brain working at even half-capacity, he dropped into his desk chair and opened up an internet browser. Incohesive as he was, it was still imperative that he check his Facebook in case his family had left anything.

His mind (now on auto-pilot) reflected over the day while he typed in the web address. It was a ritual he'd performed everyday since he'd first made captain all those years ago. It allowed him to commit the day to memory and think on the things he could have done differently. It was a necessary tool for any leader.

Although nothing particularly eventful had happened that day (Momoshiro's party aside), something nagged at his sleep-deprived brain. He tried to pull it from the crevices of his grey-matter, but it refused to come forth. Shrugging it off as unimportant for the moment, he focused his eyes on the familiar blue-and-white webpage. He rubbed at closed lids under his lenses. He desperately needed to sleep, but tired eyes fell on the red notification flag. He'd left himself signed in, luckily. Less energy he had to expel before he could rest his body. 'It's really irresponsible to go this long without sleep,' he scolded himself. He moved the cursor up to the red number "4" over the notification symbol.

"Hm?" His voice gave sound to his confusion. The four notifications were all picture comments from people he didn't recognize. Had someone tagged him in something? He followed the photo link absently.

He froze immediately after the page loaded. He wouldn't be able to tell you what was going through his mind at the sight of that picture. He had completely stopped thinking. It was amazing, really. His brain was already functioning so poorly, it was astounding that it was able to function any less.

He also wouldn't be able to tell you how long it took him to get his mind working again, but when he did, he quickly closed the mouth that had somehow dropped open on its own. He blinked the eyes that had been staring for far too long at the bright monitor.

And he grabbed for a tissue to mop up the drops of red that had begun to fall from his nose.

His face was on fire. He was sure of it. He hurriedly minimized the browser window and tried to get his breathing under control. His lungs burned from so much exertion. He briefly wondered if he might be hyperventilating, but he didn't feel any fainter than he had when he'd walked through the door. He forced his heart to calm down. It would be no good if it decided that his chest cavity was suddenly too confining.

Gathering up all the professionalism that allowed him to maintain his position as captain after all these years, he maximized the Facebook window. A gratuitous glance around the room confirmed what he already knew: he was alone. It didn't stop the brief feeling of guilt he experienced when it finally sunk in that he was looking at this sort of a picture of his closest friend. Nevermind the fact that he'd had that kind of reaction to thissort of picture. Denial uprooted the guilt. Who had put this picture of Fuji up here? Why had he gotten notifications about it? Was this someone's idea of a sick joke? Was somebody blackmailing Fuji? Trying to destroy his perfect reputation? Fuji was talented in many areas, after all. It was only reasonable that he'd make a few enemies in his life. Anger replaced the denial when the thought of his friend being in any sort of danger came to mind. He'd have to inform Fuji that this image was on the internet...

...but that required him to tell Fuji that he'd seen the...thing. And, for the life of him, he did not want to admit that he'd seen that side of Fuji.

Taking a breath to steady himself, his eyes again roamed over the sight before him. The first thing that caught his gaze was the first thing that always caught his eyes: the sight of Fuji's lucid blue gems open and focused on something. In this case, the camera had his utmost attention. That intense gaze was focused on Tezuka's at this instant and it took another steadying breath before he was able to focus again. If he was going to tell Fuji about the picture, he had to be able to describe the thing, right? His mind had somehow decided on its own to use that excuse in order to not feel guilt over looking at his friend this way. Staring into Fuji's eyes was a terribly intimate thing to do, after all, even in photograph form. And Fuji's stare was a horribly hypnotizing thing. He could lose himself forever in those eyes. Such intelligence reflected in that icy stare! Vast amounts of knowledge were stored inside that head and the moment he opened those eyes, the weight of that enormous library hung behind the entrancing color. A full collection of everything from Japanese history to...ways to make a person squirm. Tezuka swallowed hard. It wasn't like him to get so worked up over such a little thing, but...

Tezuka's eyes followed the line of Fuji's face down to those perfect, full lips. That was something he had never paid attention to. Two pale lines of pink stretched into the naughtiest smile that Tezuka had ever seen on a person. When partnered with the eyes, Tezuka did feel himself squirming for reasons he wasn't entirely comfortable thinking about.

Hazel irises finally landed on the worst offender in the picture. The pink muscle in Fuji's mouth that allowed him to enunciate words and swallow food reached out from between his lips and curled around a small amount of vanilla ice cream. His right hand held the waffle cone. Rivulets of the melting white substance ran over the unflinching fingers. It gave the exact intended effect, Tezuka was sure. It was fortunate that he was such a strong man in the face of such temptation. A weaker man might have run back to that party and stolen the sandy-haired college student away from his friends. Tezuka's body had settled for sitting as still as it possibly could. A slight trembling was visible in his fingers, but his spine was straight; his head was high.

He felt like a sitting duck. He was prey waiting to be caught unaware.

At this realization, he finally tore his eyes away from the image long enough to make sure he was still alone in the room. His logical brain had stopped functioning a long time ago. This was pure instinct and instinct did not remind him that he would have heard the door opening.

This brief break from the very distracting sight before him allowed his brain to start working a little. He recognized the familiar blue-and-white stripes of his blanket on the bed opposite the one he currently sat under. His eyes narrowed in confusion. He glanced up at the bed a few feet above the desk he sat at and spotted the pale yellow blanket that Fuji used.

"Hn. That's not right." Tezuka's bed was on the right. Tezuka's bed had been on the right since they first moved into the dorm. Why was Fuji's bed suddenly here? He stood and re-oriented himself. Yes, this was his side of the room, but his bed and computer were on the other side.

...His bed...and his computer...

His hand and forehead reacquainted themselves.

"Tezuka! You're back! I hope you don't mind, but I had to rearrange our room. My mind works better when I have some variety."

"So that was it." The memory had finally dislodged itself. Fuji had taken the liberty of rearranging their dorm while Tezuka was at class. This put Tezuka on the left side and Fuji on the right side. Somewhere deep inside, he had probably remembered this, but he was such a creature of habit that he'd disregarded it. With his mind gone, he'd simply allowed his body to take up its usual routine.

Sitting back in the chair, Tezuka scrolled up the page. He sighed when the display picture added confirmation to what he knew. Of course this Facebook account was Fuji's; this was Fuji's computer. He nodded in realization. All the facts finally settled into place. So Fuji had a sexy image on his account that he'd obviously only allowed certain people to see. So what? That was fine. Tezuka couldn't be in every aspect of Fuji's life. It was normal that his friend would have a few secrets, right?

Unfortunately, these reassurances had the exact opposite effect on Tezuka. Instead of comforting him, they put him even more on edge. New questions surfaced in his mind. Who were these people that Fuji had allowed to see this image? Who had taken this picture in the first place? Who was it that he had he posed for?

His cursor pointed to the next picture, hoping to get some answers, but a sound distracted him. Somebody had messaged Fuji on the chat. It wasn't a name that Tezuka recognized. Before the shame of invading his friend's privacy overtook his body, he clicked on the blue bar at the bottom of the page.

Sato Kinichi: 'sup, boo? Still up 4 2nite?

Tezuka cringed at the atrocious language, but curiousity got the better of him. A sigh left him. He really shouldn't, but...

Me: My brain is a little tired. Could you remind me...?

Tezuka nodded. That sounded a little like Fuji at least. It's not as if he were lying. His brain really was tired. The fact that this other person thought he was Fuji certainly wasn't his fault. He'd never said anything along those lines.

Sato Kinichi: u 4gott? How cud u 4get me? Lol.
Sato Kinichi: u sed u wud go 2 tha party wif me.

Tezuka swore he was dying a little more with every word, but he continued on. Maybe this man knew something about what Fuji was up to. Hecertainly hadn't known that Fuji partied.

Me: I didn't forget you.

He'd never met Sato.

Me: I promised you a date, right?

It was an honest question.

Me: Just remind me of the details. I had a test today and I didn't sleep well.

All true, save for the word "remind." That was a small thing that he could live with.

Sato Kinichi: a date? U trippin'? yusuke wud kill me!
Sato Kinichi: party starts 12. b redy by 1130
Sato Kinichi: wait tha usual plac, k?

Yusuke? He was sure he didn't know that name... Tezuka's eyebrows furrowed in thought. He glanced at the small clock in the corner of the screen. It was 10:45. That left 15 minutes before curfew took effect. Tezuka nodded. That meant that Fuji would be here soon.

...The realization took a minute to set in. He glanced at the clock again and nearly jumped out of the chair. Fuji would be here any minute! He didn't know what was going on in his friend's life, but he knew that he definitely needed to be out of this seat before that door opened.

His finger tapped his chin. Should he continue this? Surely he should find out what Fuji was up to. He could wind up in trouble if he went to a party with strangers. That was certainly a reason to find out more. There was also the fact that this habit of Fuji's could bring down his level of tennis performance. That would reflect badly on the team. Yes, he should probably find out a little more. Satisfied with his logic, another question raised itself. How could he ask this without rasing suspicions?

Me: The usual? You mean right outside my window, right? ;)

The wink was an after-thought. He'd seen Kikumaru do similarly when joking around through text. He must be more tired than he realized to be taking tricks from Kikumaru's bag.

An unhealthy amount of time passed while he waited for the next response. Had he been found out? His eyes darted from the screen to the door enough times to make him dizzy before the familiar sound filled the room.

Sato Kinichi: Syuu-kun, this is Yusuke. You know very well that I always pick you up by the jungle gym. And, amusing as it is to see Kinichi flustered, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't traumatize him too much. You have some getting ready to do, besides. Don't doddle. We'll leave the playground at 11:45 sharp.

The eloquent reply floored Tezuka. He re-read the message with something akin to panic. He knew the place that was discussed. What bothered him was the obvious intelligence and commanding air of this Yusuke. He could only hope that he'd imitated Fuji well enough to fool this person. An odd note of familiarity rang through Yusuke's message, but it wasn't quite strong enough for Tezuka to worry over.

The other man hadn't signed off, so he was probably expecting a reply.

Me: My apologies. I do hope that Kinichi recovers.
Sato Kinichi: Yes, of course. Hurry now. We won't wait for you. 11:45. Sharp.
Me: I'll be there.
Sato Kinichi: And your roommate, Tezuka? He doesn't know, right?

For some reason, this sent a chill down Tezuka's unbendable spine. He couldn't say why, but there was something oddly disturbing (not to mention suspicious) about that phrasing.

Me: Of course not. He'd have my head if he knew.
Sato Kinichi: That he would, Syuu-kun. That he would.

Tezuka didn't know what he was expecting. He'd said it as a joke, but this was more serious than he thought. What was Fuji doing that Tezuka would disapprove of so strongly? Was he in some sort of trouble?

A clunk sounded outside the door. Tezuka hurriedly pushed the power button on Fuji's monitor and stepped away from the desk. He turned toward the only window in their bedroom. Panic ate at his insides when the door opened. He hadn't had time to close the browser.

"Welcome back, Fuji." He was glad his voice didn't reflect his inner turmoil.

"Thank you, Tezuka." Fuji's smile was audible.

Tezuka did not turn to greet his friend. He was unsure of what his face would show. He didn't know how to handle this situation. The best thing would probably be to admit what he did, but how do you tell your best friend that you accidentally signed onto his Facebook, saw a naughty picture of him that he obviously didn't want you to see, and pretended to be him in order to find out information about him? Tezuka felt like a truly horrible person in that moment. Even if Fuji never found out, the guilt would kill him. He was raised better than that. Truthfully, he wasn't sure why he spied on Fuji to begin with. He didn't even know that Fuji was doing anything that warranted spying! For God's sake, this was Fuji Syuusuke. The same rational, reasonable, responsible Fuji Syuusuke that he'd always been. Since when did he, Tezuka Kunimitsu, question Fuji's actions?

Never, was the correct answer. He'd always trusted Fuji. Wasn't it his own abuse of that shared trust that placed him in this position? In that case, he shouldn't be questioning Fuji's actions, but his own.

His mind made up, he turned around to admit to what he'd done. It was the right thing to do. "Fuji, I..."

"Tezuka," Fuji immediately cut him off. "I left my monitor on. I didn't have any windows open when we left."

He placed a hand on the seat of his chair. "And my chair is still warm. Would you like to explain this?"

He said all of this with the same smile that he always had, but Tezuka knew he was upset. Who wouldn't be? "Fuji, I apologize. I was tired when I came back and forgot that you'd rearranged the room. I opened up Facebook to check my own and I realized that it was yours a bit too late."

'The truth will set you free,' his grandfather had always said. At least he'd admitted to most of it. He wasn't sure how to tell him the rest.

"Ah, that makes sense. Thank you for explaining. I figured something like that had happened." He smiled brightly and it made Tezuka feel a little nauseous. That he could be this happy when Tezuka had done so much wrong... He'd betrayed his friend's trust and he'd lied to him. His grandfather would be disappointed.
"Still, I'm surprised that you're up. Aren't you tired?" Tezuka raised a brow at the obvious segway, but didn't say anything. He figured Fuji was trying to get him to go to bed so he could... He stopped that train of thought immediately. It was no business of his to worry about Fuji's private life. He should let those suspicions die right here.

"Yes, a little." It was the truth.

"You should rest, then." Again, with that smile.

"Aa," he agreed. "I'll be heading to bed now. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Tezuka." And again.

As he placed a hand on the rail of the ladder, he remembered that he left the conversation window up, but minimized, on Fuji's Facebook. He needed to take care of that before Fuji found it. He'd suffer through the guilt later.

"...Fuji, I'll need to get changed first." Inwardly, he was hating himself for all this deception.

"Yes, probably." Fuji didn't move.

"Fuji...could you...?" 'Could you please not make me spell this out?,' he finished in his head.

"Ah. You want me to leave?" He wasn't fooling anyone with that tone, Tezuka reasoned. Of course he knew what Tezuka had meant.

"I value my privacy."

"Of course you do, Tezuka. Of course you do." He turned with a smile and left Tezuka with suspicions that he was secretly being laughed at.

Tezuka rushed over to the desk as soon as the door shut. He clicked the "x" on Sato Kinichi's bar along the bottom of the page. He couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. He also clicked the logo at the top of the page that would take him back to the homepage. Fuji couldn't know that he'd seen that picture. He did not want to answer the questions that would follow the acquired knowledge.

He grabbed a set of pajamas from the cabinet beside his bed and slipped into them while his brain ran in circles. He'd gotten away with it. He'd lied to his best friend and gotten away with it. He did not feel good about this. He did not know how to handle this type of thing. He did not know where to go from here.

Should he follow Fuji tonight? Should he see what he's up to? Would it be best to just let the thing go and hope for the best? Should he confess his misdeeds and hear the truth from Fuji while putting their friendship on the line at the same time?

...No. That last was absolutely out of the question. He would not risk losing Fuji.

'Fuji's friendship,' he corrected himself. He would not risk losing Fuji's friendship. He really did need some sleep. It would probably be best to just go to bed and figure everything out on a full night's rest.

"I'm decent," he called to man on the other side of the door.

"I'm coming in, then!" Tezuka did not wait for the door to open before he began climbing the ladder to his bed, and thus did not see Fuji's expression when he re-entered the dorm.

"Tezuka," his friend began, "I didn't realize you were so keen on getting into my pants."

The words stopped his body in its tracks. His hands tightened around the cold metal hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. It was only years of schooling himself on not openly revealing emotion that kept his face blank as he turned his head toward the source of the comment.

"Pardon?"

He swore he heard a chuckle come out of that mouth. "My pants. You're wearing them. Didn't you notice that they're too short?"

A brief glance down confirmed Fuji's words. But how was that so? He'd pulled them from the cabinet on the left. He voiced his confusion.

"Ah, right. I didn't have time to move our clothing around," he explained. "Forgive me, Tezuka." He didn't look sorry. "I'm deeply embarrassed about my slip-up." Nor did he look the slightest bit ashamed.

"Aa. In that case, I'll be needing to change again." Fuji was pretending the innuendo didn't happen, so he'd ignore it too. It was also possible that Fuji didn't realize the other meaning of his words, but this was Fuji. Everything the man did was deliberate.

"Nonsense. You're already in them. I'll let you borrow my clothes for the night. But, Tezuka? Please don't soil them. I rather enjoy that set." Sometimes, Fuji's constant smile irritated Tezuka. Now was one of those times.

"Soil them?" His arms were getting tired of supporting him. It was easier to climb back to the floor than it was to go the rest of the way up, so he took that option. "Please explain that."

Fuji gracefully fell into his desk chair and crossed his leg over the other: the very image of poise and grace. "Saa. I wonder what I could have meant?"

"Hn." Tezuka leaned against the ladder and faced his friend. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. He wanted an answer.

"I thought you were tired, Tezuka." There was a slight accusatory hint to his voice. It contrasted immensely with the gentle smile on his face.

"I am." His eyes focused on the smaller man's face. Tezuka had always been very patient. He could wait this out. Besides, Fuji didn't have long before his friend would be here to pick him up. He had to give him some sort of answer soon.

"Mm...is that so?"

A long silence passed between them. The standard clock above Tezuka's desk was suddenly very loud. Its constant ticking assaulted the awkward quiet. The two men stared at each other within the sterile white walls of their tiny room. One determined, the other happily leading the first into his pace.

"Fuji," Tezuka reminded. Not only was he very patient, Tezuka was also very stubborn. He wasn't about to let this go just because it had become a drawn-out issue.

Fuji sighed andTezuka knew that he had finally given in. "You're a man, Tezuka. I'm sure you can figure it out from there."

He knew that Fuji had meant this, of course. He wasn't stupid. It was more that everyone else let Fuji get away with snide comments because he said them with such a sweet smile. It grated on Tezuka's nerves. He was the only person among their friends that confronted him, to his knowledge. Secretly, he suspected that Fuji enjoyed it. His comments had grown increasingly more obscene over the years (in Tezuka's company, at least).

"You're implying that I'm going to masturbate while wearing your pajamas? What would inspire that?" He shot back bluntly.

This response apparently surprised Fuji. It was true that it was more blunt than Tezuka usually was; his tiredness was beginning to show. Fuji's eyes shot open at the words. He hastily covered up this response with another trademark smile. 'Interesting.'

"Why don't you tell me?" There was an undertone to the reply that Tezuka didn't understand. Was Fuji flirting with him? Impossible.

The image of Fuji suggestively licking vanilla ice cream flashed through his mind and he had to cough to hide his embarrassment. He turned and started up his ladder again. This conversation wasn't going anywhere and his mind wasn't getting any fresher.

"Say, Fuji, what's your favorite ice cream flavor?" The words fell from his mouth before he could stop them. He frowned at his sudden inability to control his tongue. That was unlike him.

He crawled under his sheets, seemingly unaware that he'd asked something that required an answer. A yawn escaped him before he could stop it. He took off his glasses and placed them on the small shelf in his headboard. His head met his pillow soon after. His eyes had just begun to close when he heard a low voice whisper dangerous words.

"Straight vanilla is fine, but most of my tastes run more...exotic. I crave things with bite and grab." Tezuka's eyes opened to meet an icy blue stare. Their eyes held for a long moment before Fuji's smile returned.

Tezuka worked to swallow a large lump in his throat. The implications of Fuji's words were not lost on Tezuka, but a lot, no, most of Fuji's seemingly innocent comments could be read into. Tezuka was used to this. He wasn'tused to them being quite this blatant.

And he certainly wasn't used to them having so much of an effect on his body.

In fact, he wasn't used to them having any effect on his body. He'd pretty much ignored Fuji's tendencies up until now. His deliberate phrasing went over the heads of most people (as he intended). Tezuka was used to being the only one who understood him. That self-indulgant behavior was just a part of who Fuji was.

"Goodnight, Tezuka. Sleep well."

Fuji's words made him remember that they'd been having a conversation and he was supposed to respond. Now if he could get his vocal chords to work...

"A-aa," he stuttered out. Embarrassment coursed through his body. How pathetic he was at this moment!

He heard Fuji's chuckle and their dorm door closing shortly after. He wanted to get up and see where Fuji was going, but sleep grabbed him and pulled him under. It was an impossible thing to fight. The only thing he would be watching was the insides of his eyelids.

It was fully light when Tezuka woke, but it was not his internal clock that forced him from his sleep. He frowned in thought. Tezuka always woke at 5 A.M. Always. There was not a single instance in his memory in which he woke after his usual time. Could he have been more exhausted than he'd realized? Exhausted enough to sleep through his internal alarm? In that case, what had woken him?

As if on cue, a sound reached his ears at that moment. Quiet music filled the room. How hadn't he noticed that before?

I gotta hold you somehow.
All I wanna do is touch you.

Tezuka stiffened as he listened to the lyrics. He'd never heard this particular one from Fuji's playlist. He glanced over the side of his bed to see Fuji swaying gently to the softly played music. He probably didn't want to wake Tezuka.

I wanna, I wanna, I wanna touch you.
You wanna touch me too.

His eyes were drawn to the other man's hips. Something about the motion Fuji used had his eyes glued.

The low-riding pants could also have had something to do with that.

Fuji's hands moved to his hair. His back was to Tezuka, so he saw the hands tangle in those lightly colored locks.

Every way and when they set me free.
Just put your hands on me.

From there, his hands moved to his own shoulders. His fingers gripped opposite upper-arms, hugging himself as he swayed. Graceful digits continued the path to Tezuka's destruction; they didn't stop again until they landed on his own hips. His hands followed the motion of the slender—almost feminine—hips as they moved in slow circles. It was driving Tezuka mad. The words, the motions, and the memory of that naughty smile had him wanting to bury his face in his own pillow either in embarrassment or other, worse, things.

He wished he could follow the advice of the smooth voice that flowed out of Fuji's PC speakers. He was overcome with the desire to put his hands on Fuji in his half-asleep state. He wanted to know what his hair felt like. What his lips tasted like. He wanted to be the one to hold his shoulders.

He...wanted to hold Fuji. He wanted to...touch him. He wanted to kiss him.

A very belated realization hit Tezuka square in the face. He was attracted to his best friend. His very male best friend.

It wasn't as though Tezuka were straight, nor was he against the idea of a gay relationship. It was more that Tezuka had considered himself pretty asexual up until now. Sure, he'd watched porn before. The internet was full of that. There was no avoiding it. And of course he'd...pleasured himself before. He was a man after all. He had needs. But he couldn't exactly picture himself in a relationship with another person. He wasn't very vocal about his thoughts and whoever dated him would have to understand his every...unspoken...intention.

'...Ha.' Tezuka blinked at that last slowly pondered thought. He'd never really payed attention to it, but there was a reason he and Fuji got along so well. Of course he understood Fuji when no-one else did, but he'd only just realized that it went the other way.

There'd always been an unacknowledged bond between the two of them. Did Fuji notice it, too? Was he aware of the reason that he was Tezuka's best friend? This reason that it took Tezuka all these years to notice...?

Everyone accommodated him. Everyone looked up to him. Everyone respected, feared, and followed him without question. It was only Fuji who questioned him. It was only Fuji who confronted him. It was only Fuji who understood the words that never came out of his mouth.

It was only Fuji.

"Like what you see, Tezuka?"

Spoken words jolted Tezuka out of his silent reverie. He had only now become aware that he had been staring at Fuji's swaying body for some time now.

Icy blue eyes stared into hazel ones.

Tezuka wasn't sure how to respond. He imagined his face looked like that of a deer's when caught in headlights. He'd been seen staring at Fuji in a way that he really shouldn't have been.

Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed his glasses and said the first thing that came to mind. "Sorry. I was distracted."

It wasn't entirely false. "Yes, I'd noticed."

Fuji's eyes had a dangerous look to them. Tezuka wasn't sure how to describe it, but it sent blood rushing to his lower abdomen. "You didn't answer me, Tezuka."

He sauntered. That was the only word apt enough to describe his movements. He sauntered over to Tezuka's half of the room. He reached up and rested his hands on one of the lower guard rails of Tezuka's bed. He allowed his body to go limp and locked eyes with the startled brunet.

"Saa, Tezuka. Did you like what you saw?"

Tezuka discreetly checked to make sure his lower half was covered by his blanket and brought his knees up to hide the growing...problem. It was bad enough that Fuji noticed his staring. It would be even worse if he realized the thoughts running through Tezuka's mind right now.

A smile that mirrored the one in the image crossed Fuji's face and Tezuka was undone. He reached over the rail and cupped Fuji's face in his. His lips crashed down onto the smaller man's. A soft groan left his mouth. "Of course I liked it, you tease."

He awoke to a strange sensation; a wetness that shouldn't be where it was. His first reaction was to check the source of the squishiness in his...oh. In his boxers. He cursed softly. He hadn't had a wet dream since he was 15. That was almost 6 years ago!

His second reaction was to note that, yes, it was a dream.

His third reaction was to note that, yes, Fuji was staring at him.

'Damn.' Had he been talking in his sleep? How much had Fuji heard? He silently prayed to whatever god would hear him that he hadn't been wantonly moaning his best friend's name in his sleep.

"Tezuka," Fuji began. He didn't want to hear what followed. He didn't want to know what Fuji had heard, but he needed to hear it. "I did ask you not to soil them."

A/N: Updates will happen every Friday night. I'm on the east coast of the USA, so this may translate to a different day or time period for those in other parts of the world. :3

I hope you all enjoy~! This was written for a friend who wanted some Perfect Pair. This was my first time writing them, so I was a little nervous. I hope I did them justice :3

Also, as seen in the description, this story will contain YuuMi (Yuuta/Mizuki). Just thought I'd remind everyone :) Or...clarify, I suppose. Reviews are appreciated! :D