Prince of Tennis (Tezuka/Fuji) [week 1 - prompt 1] Title: Lamb in Wolf’s Skin Author: ketchupblood Rating: PG-15 Warnings: A lot of after-sex, slash Word Count: 1,700~ Summary: He knows I am a wolf disguised as a lamb, but doesn’t realize that I am only a lamb in wolf’s skin. Author's Notes: They’re not actually in junior high. It’s all a lie! They’re really middle aged men. -shifty eyes- Really. Written for ironman7. Un-proofed.
Prompt 1: The path that I have chosen now has led me to a wall, and with each passing day I feel a little more like something dear was lost.
I lie there panting and watch Tezuka pick up the clothes that we so carelessly tossed aside in our haste to make love. At least, that’s how I think of it. I’m not sure he does. For him, it can’t be more than just fucking though he wouldn't word it so crudely. In those precious moments when he’s buried deep inside of me, though, I like to think that this is love, even when I know it isn’t.
I like to watch his face when he comes, to know that I caused this and that this is how I affect him, even when I didn't and it's not. I don’t like watching him pick up after we finish, erasing any signs that we might have once known each other in the locker room. He never looks at me when he picks up; I pretend to myself that I don’t know why. I never offer to help, because even if I don’t like watching him now, I still do.
He picks up his clothes, then mine and my heart flutters at the little act of kindness. I know that he would do it for anyone—perhaps especially someone he has just fucked—but I still think that maybe, just maybe, he cares. He hands them to me, my jersey and my boxers. I had already gotten out of my shorts before we had started, so those were already in my duffel. I nod and smile and thank him, and he leads the way to the showers. I follow him because I like watching him when he walks. I don’t know if it makes him uncomfortable, but he hasn’t told me to stop and so I don’t.
I don’t watch him while he washes, because I don’t want to have to explain why I’m suddenly excited again, but I want to. I think about how he must be carefully washing every inch of himself, wiping away what we had just done and going from naughty, hungry, sexy Tezuka to the responsible Tezuka that he showed everyone else. I start to get a little hard again, so I start thinking of something else—my cacti, this time—and carefully avoid looking at him until we’re both safely dressed and he’s about to leave.
"Fuji." He turns to me and says, "Tomorrow."
I smile and I nod, happy that this isn’t going to be the last time.
-x-
When I first asked Tezuka to start this thing with me, he had stared at me and, a full five seconds later, asked me what I was thinking about. I gave him a lie I had carefully planned about sexual tensions, of all things. He eyed me distrustfully and told me that a wolf in sheep's clothing is still a wolf. I asked if he meant himself or me and he had given me a look that said it was obvious; of course it was me.
-x-
He has taken me again and this time I don’t get up. I lie there and he gives me a concerned look but I wave him on. I want to savor this, the aftermath of our love. Thought that sounds depressing. He had been gentler this time. I think it is because he was embarrassed, since we ran out of lube and he had to pull out a lotion that a girl had given to him as a confession present. I had chuckled and teased him about how insensitive he was being.
I realize as I lie there and listen to him washing himself that I hadn’t been joking, but I hadn’t meant it the way it sounded. It was cruel, to take me with a present from someone who loved him. It reminds me that he won’t be mine.
I curse myself for being a coward.
-x-
He doesn’t tell me that we’re meeting again after the club lets out for sex anymore; it is a habit now and we meet without planning it. That makes me happy—I am a big enough part of his routine that he no longer needs to plan out his time to be with me.
-x-
I’m very pathetic, aren’t I? I can’t stop thinking about Tezuka. My world revolves around him. I glare at anyone else who talks to him and I hope no one notices. I actually got angry at the last three girls who approached him. He’s not even mine, is he? I’ve never even said that I love him, and he’s certainly never said that to me.
Hizuno-chan has been hanging on to him recently, following him around like a love sick puppy. It’s pathetic and pitiable and exactly how I imagine I’d look, if I could get over my fear of rejection. She’s much braver than me, and I notice that he doesn’t push her away like he pushes away most of his fangirls.
My heart drops from my chest and down through me to the floor when I realize that what we have now, little as it is, what I have now... I won’t have for much longer. Soon it will be hers.
-x-
I wait in the locker room and watch everyone else file out. Today would be the end. Yumiko-nee had read the cards for me (today what you fear most will happen) and, even if I can’t do anything like that, I could always tell when bad things were going to happen. Today is going to be a bad day.
The look on Tezuka’s face affirms what I know, but I don’t act as if anything is any different, though I suppose I don’t undress immediately either.
"Fuji..." His voice is unsure and he’s nervous, I can tell. "This has to stop."
"Tezuka, I love you." I'm shocked that I would choose this moment to voice my confession, but my mouth seems to have a mind of its own right now and, if I'm any judge at all of Tezuka's expressions, he's just as shocked as I am.
"I..." He swallows hard. "I'm sorry."
I look at him and I think how much happier he's seemed lately. As much as I might hate to admit it, he does love her, more than he would ever love me. But this is Tezuka, and if I were to ask, he would stay.
I can't ask that of him. So I do the only thing I can think of, and I push him away, biting at every weakness that I've ever found, every little bit of Tezuka that makes him less of a god and more of a human, every bit that I've cherished. He looks at me, completely inscrutable, and he leaves.
I stay there, in the locker room where he has taken me so many times, and I want to cry but no tears fall.
-x-
We end up going to the same high school, Tezuka and I. It’s not a conscious choice on my part, and I know it’s not an option he would have wanted either. He had avoided me like he was a lamb and I a wolf since that day. I hated it, but since it was my fault, I couldn’t really blame him. I’m not lonely, of course, I just miss him. Instead, I walk to school with Saeki, who came from Chiba, and we laugh and joke about the teachers and the students and each other. He never mentions Tezuka after the first time, though. I think that Saeki knows me better than everyone other than Yumiko, and he must have figured it out. Not that it was all that hard, really. I stare at Tezuka every chance that I get.
They are walking up to school together, Tezuka and Hizuno-chan. Their hands are close together, fingers intertwined. I can’t tear my eyes away until Saeki points out the horrendous dress that Harabi-sensei is wearing. Then I laugh and tell him that he’s being cruel. He punches me playfully, telling me that I’m crueler. Before I can say anything back, the bell rings and we separate, me to class two and he to class four.
I walk into the room and stare at the board. The teacher decided to change the seating arrangement and I, lucky as I am, get to sit next to Tezuka. I’m sure that he’ll ignore me and pretend that I am not there, but I am happy for the moment, because he will not complain and we will share a desk. I walk to the seat that I had been assigned and let my bag plop down beside the chair before sitting.
Tezuka walks in not much later and I watch while he looks at the board. I’ve gotten better at understanding his expressions, and I can tell. He doesn’t want to sit next to me. I had expected that, so it didn’t hurt so much. I had not expected that he would dislike it enough to ask the teacher for a new seat. Because this is Tezuka, the teacher agrees and I end up sitting with Tagawa-kun, who is nice but not Tezuka.
I look at Tezuka all class long, because he’s sitting on the same row as me, a few chairs down, and it’s convenient enough, though it requires a bit of twisting on my part. He catches my gaze once. Just once, the first time in a year. I smile pleasantly at him and he looks away.
But his look said it clearly. He wasn’t fooled by my sheep’s clothing. He knew me for the wolf that I am.
I wish that he could have kept his gaze on me a little longer, so I could have told him. He didn’t have to be scared of me for I am only a lamb in wolf’s clothing.