prince of tennis (Tezuka/Fuji) [week 5 - prompt 1] Title: The Game Author:ketchupblood Rating: PG Warnings: Crack, overuse of parenthesis Word Count: ~1,100 Summary: Tezuka and Fuji play a little game to see who confesses first and/or better (depending on Fuji, of course) Author's Notes: Umm....
1. A fool I am and I'll always be. They can change their minds, but they can't change me.
Tezuka had known from the moment that Fuji had suggested the game that it was going to be a Very Bad Idea. Of course, that didn't stop him from agreeing to play; Fuji had asked, after all, and Tezuka was very weak against Fuji's suggestions (when his mother teased him about it, he wanted to explain it away in as nice a way as possible—that his mother was supportive enough of his crush to ask about it was certainly a blessing—but Tezuka had always been a very honest person, so he had to answer, "It isn't in anyone's best interest for Fuji to feel that something didn't go the way he wanted," because Fuji was a bit of a control freak). And so, the game commenced with the following rules:
They will come up with a new 'challenge' every week.
Whoever finishes the challenge first or better (depending on Fuji's preference that week, though of course that wasn't explicitly stated in the rules) won.
Whoever wins can choose a penalty for the loser.
The only things outside of the bounds of the penalty are those things which are explicitly illegal (Tezuka insisted on this one) and actively prosecuted (and Fuji added this as an amendment; Tezuka didn't bother change it because it wasn't worth the effort of fighting Fuji for it).
And, finally, the penalty must be acted out within a month of it being assigned.
At first it hadn't been so bad, little games of monopoly or quick tennis matches. Likewise, the penalties weren't so bad either; kiss so-and-so, say something silly in class (Tezuka muttered it under his breath and Fuji said it didn't count while Tezuka held that it did), do something silly on Saturdays. Tezuka assumed that the game would die out; surely it couldn't hold Fuji's attention through finals.
He was wrong, of course. By the time finals came around, the games had grown exponentially more risky and the penalty even more so. In fact, on the week of finals, Fuji came over on Sunday, as he always did, and the first words out of his mouth were, "Whoever confesses to their crush first."
Tezuka had frowned, firstly because he was fairly certain that Fuji was fairly certain that Tezuka had no crush and secondly because there was no way in hell that Tezuka was confessing to his crush (who had, incidentally enough, suggested the confessing to begin with). But Fuji had that look in his eyes that meant that he would push the matter until Tezuka agreed, sooner or later, and so Tezuka sighed and gave in. The penalties were such that he would avoid them at all cost, but he might as well take it, since the contest this time was impossible to win anyways.
Fuji smiled at him and pulled out his books, because he was there to 'study' anyways, and Tezuka turned back to his desk, which he hadn't left, because Fuji always let himself in anyways.
It wasn't until Monday that Tezuka realized, (why he hadn't realized sooner was beyond him; he supposed that he blocked the thought out) when he came to school and saw Fuji surrounded by girls—not unusual, since Fuji was one to actually encourage his fangirls whereas Tezuka was more likely to attempt to alienate them by any means necessary—that the game meant that, even if Tezuka didn't confess, Fuji would, and that would mean that Fuji was forever out of Tezuka's reach. Or at least until he broke up with whatever lucky girl happened to be his crush, anyways. That was most definitely Not Good, a part of Tezuka's brain told him.
That part of Tezuka's brain was immediately ambushed by the more mature and worldly parts, which told him that he probably wouldn't have Fuji even after Fuji broke up with his soon-to-be-girlfriend and that it was really irrational to hope either way. Not only that, but Fuji was almost definitely straight (most boys were, after all, and Fuji had such a large female following it was difficult to see him as not straight).
As with all things in love, though, rational thoughts are put down very far on a list of Important Considerations in Choosing What to Do. Even for someone as 'rational' as Tezuka. 'Rational' of course, in that he thought things through before he did them; it just happened that he didn't often care if what he ended up doing made much sense (case in point, every major match he had played that year).
So, on Wednesday afternoon, Tezuka got to school early and waited for Fuji to arrive (about ten minutes later, actually. Fuji always woke up at an ungodly hour). Then he walked up to Fuji and said, seriously and straight to the point, "I like you, Fuji."
Fuji blinked at him. "I think this time it should be whoever confesses better, huh?"
Tezuka stared, because even if he seemed calm, he was actually very excited and very worried about his confession (he was a fourteen year old boy and almost entirely inexperienced in these things, after all) and Fuji's reaction was not really what he had expected.
"Don't worry, though. I'll give you a very easy penalty this week." Fuji continued, a contemplative look on his face that did not bode well for Tezuka at all.
Then Fuji actually opened his eyes and smiled, only it was a smile that Tezuka hadn't seen before, which was especially bad, because Tezuka was almost sure that he had seen all of the good Fuji-smiles and that the only ones left for him to discover were the bad ones, so he did the only thing he could think of doing: he muttered something about studying in the library and rushed off.
On Friday, Fuji was waiting for Tezuka by the school gates after school. So far as Tezuka knew, Fuji was still single and, since there wasn't a girl in the school who wouldn't kill to have a chance at Fuji, Tezuka took it to mean that Fuji had yet to confess and therefore Tezuka was fairly safe from retribution.
Oh how wrong he was.
Because when he reached the gates, Fuji grabbed him, hoisted himself (that is to say, Fuji) up, captured his (Tezuka's) lips in a very long, kiss that involved tongues in mouths that they did not belong in (or if you asked Fuji, that they very well belonged in), and a lot of general staring from the student population. "I like you, Tezuka." Fuji said, when he broke their lips apart (sometimes the need for air really was so inconvenient). "I really, really like you."
Tezuka was, naturally, happy about this but, at the same time, he couldn't help but feel very scared, because this meant that Fuji had won and Tezuka didn’t really want to know what Fuji would ask of him.