Catch My Fall

Chapter 11: Pray for me not, I won't lose sight of where I belong and where you lie .

Tezuka stilled at the name, even though it meant nothing to him. Fuji had always been vague when speaking about him in the past, but tonight, it seemed, he would discover exactly who was causing all of the chaos in their lives.

"We met in elementary school. We weren't especially close, but since we both did well academically, we had classes together. It was more competitive than anything," Fuji said in a quiet voice. "In high school, he joined every club I did. He was fixated on finding something he could do better than me. It was friendly, for the most part, and we sometimes studied together. Nothing unusual."

Noticing the pause in Fuji's speech, Tezuka picked up Fuji's hand and placed a reassuring kiss on back of it. Fuji squeezed his fingers in response before continuing to talk.

"I guess the trouble started because of that project we had in Photography Club. We were all told to capture something we found beautiful. In high school, there was nothing more beautiful to me than Yangyuu Hiroshi. I followed him around and took his pictures for weeks. I did all of mine in black and white. They were entered into a regional competition. I won…but that's when weird things started to happen."

He felt the arms around him tighten. Not knowing what to say, he simply held Fuji's hand, rubbing small circles with his thumb, hoping it offered some sort of comfort.

"First it was the phone calls. He'd call and hang up whenever anyone answered. Then I started to find small gifts in my locker, my doorstep, once even in my bedroom. It started with flowers and poetry, but soon it was burnt negatives and pictures of blood and death. I could feel his eyes on me wherever I walked, and when I turned around, I'd see him there smiling at me. I-I hated it. On the last day of school, he asked me out in front of everyone during lunch. I rejected him, harshly. He slapped me across the face and walked off. I thought that would be the end of things."

Even though it had happened years ago, and before he had even met Fuji, the thought of someone hitting him angered Tezuka beyond belief. He turned on the couch until he could wrap his arms around Fuji, embracing him until he could feel the tension in Fuji's body lessen, even if it was only just a little bit.

"I thought that things would be better in college. Soon, I started getting notes again. Calls followed after. I traced some of the gifts, and the credit card used to buy the gifts all belonged to him. After Saeki ended up in the hospital, Yumiko helped me get transferred to a college abroad. Things were quiet for a while. No one knew where I was. Suddenly, it started again. Yuuta did some searching and they discovered his name on a flight manifesto. I transferred to another college yet again, and only just graduated when I received a mangled teddy bear as a graduation present. I went to America for a while and worked at various places, but I was homesick. Yuuta had told me everything was quiet there, so I came home. Maybe I should have stayed lost."

"Don't say that," Tezuka said abruptly. He might not like the fact that all these things had happened, but he didn't regret meeting Fuji. Not even for a moment. There was little he liked more than having Fuji in his arms. As soon as the words left his mouth, he could feel Fuji smile, even through the thin fabric of his shirt.

Fuji squirmed in his arms until Tezuka could see his face. With a thoughtful expression, he murmured softly, "You make it easy to forget everything else but you."

It was notion that Tezuka found easy to return. Since they’d met, his mind focused on little else. Nothing was more ridiculous than the idea of Tezuka Kunimitsu losing his head, and heart, to anyone, but nothing felt more natural. Fuji was everything, and he was glad for it.

Tezuka shifted closer to Fuji, running his hands underneath Fuji's shirt as he kissed him. He could feel the warmth all over his skin, and he didn't know if it was Fuji's words, or the fireplace, or the fact that they both had on too many clothes. He only stopped kissing Fuji for the few moments it took to reach over to the drawer in the side table. It was one of the very few times he was grateful that Atobe had mentioned things he didn't want to hear.

Placing the container on the arm of the couch, Tezuka turned his attention back to Fuji’s lips. Fuji ran his hands down his back, grinding his hips into Tezuka’s as he sucked lightly on Tezuka’s bottom lip. He could feel his desire build as Fuji’s fingers skimmed the line of his boxers, gently teasing the top of his arse.

Needing to feel Fuji’s skin against his, he forced himself to his feet. He paused as he removed his shirt to watch as Fuji sat up to take off his own. Just as Fuji threw it to the side, he looked up at Tezuka and smiled again, teasingly, as he undid the front of his trousers, pushing them to floor. Barely even paying attention to what he was doing, he quickly stripped and pushed Fuji back down on the sofa.

Latching on to Fuji’s nipple, he licked and sucked until he could feel Fuji move beneath him, gripping his shoulders in impatience. He shifted further down, licking at the soft skin of his inner thighs, the space below his hips, every where but where he knew Fuji wanted him most.

He looked up and found himself pinned with a look that demanded him to do something before Fuji took matters into his own hands. Before a smile could form on his face, Tezuka lowered his mouth down around Fuji’s cock, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. He could detect the faint hint of musk and it only spurned him to suck harder. It was deep, and so intrinsically Fuji that it only made him want more.

“Tezuka.” Fuji’s voice was soft, pleading as he twirled his tongue, teasing the head of his cock. He tried to ignore it, instead focusing of the delicious weight on his tongue. It wasn’t until he felt something hard, cool pressed into his hand. Looking up, Tezuka was immediately breathless by the look on Fuji’s face. His eyes were open, begging him to do something, and he couldn’t help but obey.

It was still new to him, them, so he prepared Fuji slowly, gently, watching his face as he stretched him open. Pleas and demands fell carelessly from Fuji’s lips, but he refused to hurry.

Even if he lived to do this until he was one hundred, he’d still never be used to how intense it felt to be inside Fuji. He stilled as soon as he was fully inside, closing his eyes to calm himself. Fuji’s lips were on him, biting his shoulder, his neck, licking him until he couldn’t help but move. He pressed Fuji’s legs to his chest, rubbing his thumb over the back of his thigh as he slowly moved inside him.

Every moan, every gasp, the way Fuji’s head fell against the cushions, the slight musk of his skin, he savoured, wanting to hoard every moment in his own memories. The nails dug into his back, enticing him to move deeper, faster.

He buried his face into Fuji’s neck, thrusting inside of him, overwhelmed by the heat of the fire, of Fuji, until all he could feel was the warmth and sweat between them. As he shifted so he could once more taste Fuji’s lips, Tezuka could see everything he felt reflected back in Fuji’s eyes.


The sound of the phone ringing slowly brought Tezuka back to himself. Fuji was still asleep on his chest, and he pinned underneath. He tried not to wake him as he twisted to reach the cell phone that lay on the floor next to the couch.

He couldn’t make out the number on the phone because his glasses were still sitting on the side table, but he there were only so many people that knew that phone number.

“Hello,” he said, sleepiness still evident in his voice.

Tezuka-san.” He blinked. The voice was familiar, but not enough so that he’d immediately recognize it. “It’s Yukimura.”

It was as if bathing in cold water. He shifted again. “Yes?”

“I’m trusting you to take care of Fuji for me.”

Tezuka didn’t like the implications of that sentence, even if he felt that it didn’t need to be said.

“During our search we found remains.”

He felt a sick feeling of dread course through him as he gripped the phone tightly to his ear. “Remains?”

Yukimura sounded as if he hadn’t slept in a while, stress evident in his voice. “The tests indicate that the remains are, in fact, Kirihara’s”