For All the Wrong Reasons
folder
Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
27
Views:
9,948
Reviews:
104
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Ohjisama › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
27
Views:
9,948
Reviews:
104
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Prince of Tennis (Tennis no Ohjisama), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part 20
For All the Wrong Reasons
by Lemon & Chai
Rating: N17. Bondage, S&M, D/s, and well everything else. Yuki-muse is horny.
Summary: A YukiFuji, SanaTezu fic, with eventual fivesome with Atobe. Inspired by kitti-chan and lolistar.
Dedicated to my last loyal reviewers on aff(dot)net. ^__^
Warning: Sigh.
Review replies:
drmsr: deshou?! I thought so too... Tezuka's very noble, he's strong but he would never hurt anyone... he just sort of lost it. >.<
ellabella: XD I think that's what I was going for... yosh. There's still more flashback to come! Yeah, aff is just too sad ^^; so I started posting the story over on fanfiction. So far I've only made one very mild detail change though (since originally I planned for the rape scene to happen in the bedroom, then later it changed to them not making it up the stairs, but I had a scene hint that I caught while going through the old chapters). And fixing a few more spelling mistakes. But I will be so happy if you read and review over there, too. Reviews are love! Arigatou!
Syndrella: -Blush- Why thank you XD -sweatdrop- Waaah -blush- ... AH BRAIN! .... okay I shall start writing, right right now, to save my poor brain.
Part 20
Bright sunlight poured beyond his lids, and he slowly pried them open, his eyes narrow slits as they whined to be shut again. He wanted to sleep in, but his body was in a weird position and he felt sore - no wonder, he realized he'd fallen asleep on the couch in the living room.
He dragged himself up, a wave of dizziness passing through him, and somehow he felt like he was floating through the world rather than being a part of it. His stomach was calling to him and he was aching all over.
Half an hour later Yumiko drifted downstairs, following the scent of sizzling bacon to find her brother in the kitchen, dazed but cooking. Yet even beneath the pajamas she'd managed to fit him in last night the bruises were obvious.
"Where's Tezuka?" Syuusuke mumbled, flipping eggs with a yawn. "Did he leave? I thought we could have breakfast..."
Yumiko's face turned white, then red. She marched over almost mechanically and pulled off her brother's apron and top, surprised when he didn't resist at all but reacted as limply as a doll.
"Did Tezuka do this?!" she screamed. The bruises had darkened angrily and covered his skin in black and purple. Mostly they were on his back but finger print like splotches decorated his upper arms and chest, and most terribly around his neck, reminding her of the black pearl necklace she sometimes wore.
"Do what?" replied her little brother blankly. His lids stayed half closed while he sleepily laid out eggs and bacon and toast on two of the plates, though she noted he'd set out three. "I saw your car in the driveway so I knew you were home," he said, as though this explained something.
He seemed completely unaware that he'd been raped or hurt at all, and this frightened her even more than the bruises.
Though Fuji really was worried; usually Tezuka stayed at least until he woke up, to tell him good morning and give him a very nice kiss before leaving. He ate quickly then drifted upstairs to give his lover a call.
Fuji cracked open his eyes, disappointed to find himself alone on the lofty bed. Judging by the sun he'd slept in again, and if the other tennis club leaders were like Tezuka they'd all been up hours ago.
He dragged himself up, deciding to take a quick shower and put on some clothes before wandering the mansion to find the others. God, his ass hurt like hell.
He liked it.
"He called me the next morning, asking if I was okay. He - ... he asked if I was okay, said he was worried about me, said he was sorry for arguing with me and that maybe we should spend the weekend with just the two of us, at an onsen. I quietly told him that it was over, that I wanted to go back to being only friends. He said he didn't understand..."
Swallowing guiltily, Tezuka realized how much talking of those times had affected him. He'd forgotten... frozen away many of the feelings and memories, the good times and the bad times he'd shared with his blue eyed lover.
"I heard the rumor about your face covered in red hand prints," Yukimura quietly interjected as Tezuka paused. The stoic man was having difficulty speaking, and clearly needed a break. But his audience knew not to touch him, to give him time, so he wouldn't stonewall. He was trying - even through his monotone, the despair he felt remembering those times seeped through.
"Yumiko came over to my house at the end of the week and slapped me."
Her palm connected with his cheek, over and over again, though she felt her skin sting and knuckles crack, she didn't stop until she was satisfied. But Tezuka didn't move or try to defend himself in anyway, so she ran out of energy, her eyes glowering with sated anger.
"Continue," deadpanned Tezuka.
"No..." she panted, for some reason unable to meet the eyes of this man whom she came to discipline. "I'm satisfied."
"I'm not," said Tezuka, his face never changing.
Yumiko left without another word.
The next time he saw her, though, with Fuji, she smiled and acted as though nothing had happened. She informed him some time later that Syuusuke didn't know about her confrontation, and that he'd be mad if he found out - at her.
Tezuka never understood, but after that, the woman would ocassionally call him, treating him like an old friend. She would mostly fill him in on Fuji's love life, usually through complaints, but say that she wasn't going to interfere. He never understood why she would want him to in her stead.
He remembered Yumiko's words, the one time it came up in one of their conversations. "I only forgave you because you broke up with him," she said, her voice calm and honest through the phone. "I saw the guilt in your eyes, and you took responsibility for what you did." She sighed. "It never even crossed Syuusuke's mind that he should dump you. He should have - you deserved it."
"She's right you know," Atobe drawled, though his tone was less egotistic than usual. "I doubt Syuusuke even realized you hurt him."
"I know," the brunette choked. "But it was... bad. I can't even say it was that pleasurable. I attacked him in a blind rage, barely aware of what I was doing. I could have killed him."
There was a breathless pause, before he added, "I would have, at that moment, if that was the only way to make him mine." The cold severity of his tone made it clear that he was serious. He knew that at that time, in his fury, all he cared about was ensuring no one else could have his tensai, his Syuusuke.
He was a monster of jealousy, a powerful one with the cruel strength to back his anger.
And now everyone knew.
He wanted them to hate him. He hoped that now they understood why he could not be near Fuji, why he did not trust himself, even less than he trusted Yukimura. Why he could not be apart of their relationship, whether or not it was absurd enough to work. At least... if Atobe was involved, and maybe Sanada as well, the four of them might be alright...
He knew he should not be involved. For a long time he had avoided any relationship, terrified that he'd do the same things over again, feel the same terrible jealousy and want to cage and hurt the one he wanted to claim. He'd decided it was okay to date Sanada because he knew how strong the kendo expert was - he might be able to defeat Sanada in a hand-to-hand judo match but he couldn't easily hurt the larger, more muscular frame. He liked Sanada enough, and they seemed to go well together, so he'd brought down his walls just enough to give it a try...
That's right, Sanada was his boyfriend now. He felt comfortable around Sanada.
But he would give the vice captain up if that was what Fuji... what Yukimura said that Fuji needed. At least, the bluenette seemed more than willing to let Sanada into the strange little clique, and Tezuka felt better knowing that the noble minded youth was nearby his beloved.
That was the other problem... he knew he still loved Fuji. Even when he had forgotten, a part of him had always known. And though he knew that Fuji was dating his rivals on purpose, the tactic was working to an extent... every time he heard the stories, the rumors, he felt the sickening, broiling feeling rise within him, so familiar, so horrible...
He knew that as long as he loved Fuji, he had to keep his distance.
He could never touch the tensai again.
Water trailed down his legs and pooled upon the black stone floor. Fuji dried his skin and hair off as best he could before slipping into the bathrobe hanging ready on the door. The thin, smooth material stuck to his dampened skin, and wearing the deep red robe him feel like a pampered mistress. Leave it to Atobe to only have scarlet silk bathrobes.
He'd been looking for his favorite white velous one but it must have been put away after he left. The servants would have saved it somewhere. He'd have to ask them later... if he planned on coming back.
Feeling the ache in his lower back, he wondered if this was really where he should be. This was what Seiichi wanted, so he had come, and more importantly, Tezuka had for some reason come to... and Fuji would give anything to be together with his one true beloved.
But even if that was what he wanted, that didn't mean that was what was best for Tezuka. Or for Yukimura. Or even for Sanada and Atobe. He felt like he corrupted them, dirtied them just by being near them. He was a masochistic whore... no, when he thought about it, he was below even that, but the others didn't know about the other part.
He realized he should just leave.
End things with Yukimura, go back to his tacit, meaningless friendship with Tezuka. Say hi to Atobe at gallery exhibits from time to time, but otherwise avoid him. Not have to deal with Sanada except for at tournaments. Maybe not even that... he'd been meaning to quite tennis for awhile, but his aching desire to stay by Tezuka's side had motivated him to keep playing.
He'd give up on Tezuka, as he should have done years ago, when the stoic captain had stopped loving him. He'd throw away tennis. It was the simplest way to break his connection with them... all of them. Anyone he'd ever dated or had sex with. He'd run away, transfer schools, study abroad, do anything that would help him let go.
He'd leave Tezuka alone because he loved him.
The voice of the one from his thoughts drifted out into the hallway, calling to him like a siren. He knew he shouldn't be selfish, that if he went there now he would be shipwrecked, ruined by his desire to claim Tezuka as his own. He didn't have to go back. He knew where the diva's bedroom was. He could borrow some clothes and have Atobe send him his things later.
If only his feet would pick themselves off the floor and turn away. If he left now, they would understand. If he left now, they would leave him alone. But if he waited, it would be too late... once the five of them were together, now that they had all shared the same thing, the same poison that was his body, Yukimura would start to weave the threads of a relationship that would end up strangling them all.
But that deep, penetrating sound kept him in place. It entranced him and mesmerized him...and broke his heart. It formed words he couldn't believe, said things he knew weren't true. He couldn't hear everything from where he was but he heard enough. He heard Tezuka claiming he had hurt him, that he broke up with him because of one night of rough sex. Fuji'd missed most of the story and he could barely hear his captain's voice, but he heard Atobe mention a 'she', and wondered if they were talking about Yumiko. Tezuka replied too quietly for him to hear, so he drifted towards the open door, wanting to know, needing to, being pulled towards it.
"All the more reason for you to take part in this relationship," Yukimura was saying, and Fuji could picture a gentle smirk on the bluenette's face. "It'll be therapy for you too."
"You'll have to get over the fact you're a spoiled rotten only child and learn to share," Atobe interjected, and Fuji thought he heard a snort which he knew must have come from Sanada.
"But even though he says he consented, the consent came afterward, not before," the brunette's deep voice lamented. "How could I-"
"God, Tezuka, you're the only one who'd break up over one bought of bad sex." The diva rolled his eyes, settling back against the prop of pillows.
"It was bad because only I enjoyed it-"
"But that was the best sex I've ever had!"
Fuji stood in the door way, tears streaming down his face. He knew he must have said something stupid, especially from the looks he was getting, but once he realized what time they were talking about he'd just blurted out what he felt. He'd always known something had gone wrong that night, but even after partially eavesdropping he couldn't understand what. He'd thought that Tezuka was just fed up with him, of his tactics, of his lifestyle, of his games. He'd felt that he'd always failed to make Tezuka happy, that he'd dragged the captain through too many things that went against his stoic nature, that the only thing Fuji could really give him was sex.
Of course... if the sex was no good either, then he had nothing. Of course Tezuka had dumped him.
"Just because you can forgive me, doesn't mean I can forgive myself." The mournful captain averted his eyes, so that Fuji would not see the guilt simmering within them.
"I don't...I don't understand..." Unable to stop crying, what little energy the tensai had left him, and he collapsed onto his knees, leaning against the door frame for some last vestige of support. He felt a strange sort of hopelessness, heavy and oppressing, one that he should have felt when he was dumped and that would have saved him the pain of feeling rejected all over again, as he felt now. If only he had walked away...
"That's because you don't take care of yourself. You don't care enough about yourself. No, you don't care about yourself at all. You don't even-" Tezuka stopped short, realizing what he was about to say. You don't even love yourself.
It didn't look like the tensai was listening to him anyway. The honey haired brunette slumped dejectedly to the floor, looking as if all the world had abandoned him. Once Tezuka realized that the other three were not going to go comfort Fuji, he dragged himself out of bed, relieved that the tensai was too busy wiping away tears with his sleeves to notice how disheveled his captain was. Tezuka quickly tugged up his garments, the faintest blush staining his cheeks.
He walked slowly to the doorway, but in a few steps he was already there. He lowered himself and tugged the tensai's hands away from his face, holding them in his own as he gazed into swollen, red-rimmed eyes. Those cerulean orbs shimmered curiously at him, beautiful even as they leaked the ocean down Fuji's puffed up cheeks. A hint of fear danced within them, and Tezuka could almost hear them begging not to be hurt again, not to be rejected.
He brought his small beloved gently into his arms, letting the tearful eyes soak into his shirt. Syuusuke fit so perfectly against him, even as they were crouched on the ground, in the doorway of one of Atobe's many rooms.
Breathing deeply, Tezuka paused for a still moment before letting out a humble murmur.
"I'm sorry."
For everything.
AN: Please review! Nothing encourages me more. XD I love you guys, I'm so happy people still read here, even if it's down to two or three. -sweatdrop-
by Lemon & Chai
Rating: N17. Bondage, S&M, D/s, and well everything else. Yuki-muse is horny.
Summary: A YukiFuji, SanaTezu fic, with eventual fivesome with Atobe. Inspired by kitti-chan and lolistar.
Dedicated to my last loyal reviewers on aff(dot)net. ^__^
Warning: Sigh.
Review replies:
drmsr: deshou?! I thought so too... Tezuka's very noble, he's strong but he would never hurt anyone... he just sort of lost it. >.<
ellabella: XD I think that's what I was going for... yosh. There's still more flashback to come! Yeah, aff is just too sad ^^; so I started posting the story over on fanfiction. So far I've only made one very mild detail change though (since originally I planned for the rape scene to happen in the bedroom, then later it changed to them not making it up the stairs, but I had a scene hint that I caught while going through the old chapters). And fixing a few more spelling mistakes. But I will be so happy if you read and review over there, too. Reviews are love! Arigatou!
Syndrella: -Blush- Why thank you XD -sweatdrop- Waaah -blush- ... AH BRAIN! .... okay I shall start writing, right right now, to save my poor brain.
Part 20
Bright sunlight poured beyond his lids, and he slowly pried them open, his eyes narrow slits as they whined to be shut again. He wanted to sleep in, but his body was in a weird position and he felt sore - no wonder, he realized he'd fallen asleep on the couch in the living room.
He dragged himself up, a wave of dizziness passing through him, and somehow he felt like he was floating through the world rather than being a part of it. His stomach was calling to him and he was aching all over.
Half an hour later Yumiko drifted downstairs, following the scent of sizzling bacon to find her brother in the kitchen, dazed but cooking. Yet even beneath the pajamas she'd managed to fit him in last night the bruises were obvious.
"Where's Tezuka?" Syuusuke mumbled, flipping eggs with a yawn. "Did he leave? I thought we could have breakfast..."
Yumiko's face turned white, then red. She marched over almost mechanically and pulled off her brother's apron and top, surprised when he didn't resist at all but reacted as limply as a doll.
"Did Tezuka do this?!" she screamed. The bruises had darkened angrily and covered his skin in black and purple. Mostly they were on his back but finger print like splotches decorated his upper arms and chest, and most terribly around his neck, reminding her of the black pearl necklace she sometimes wore.
"Do what?" replied her little brother blankly. His lids stayed half closed while he sleepily laid out eggs and bacon and toast on two of the plates, though she noted he'd set out three. "I saw your car in the driveway so I knew you were home," he said, as though this explained something.
He seemed completely unaware that he'd been raped or hurt at all, and this frightened her even more than the bruises.
Though Fuji really was worried; usually Tezuka stayed at least until he woke up, to tell him good morning and give him a very nice kiss before leaving. He ate quickly then drifted upstairs to give his lover a call.
Fuji cracked open his eyes, disappointed to find himself alone on the lofty bed. Judging by the sun he'd slept in again, and if the other tennis club leaders were like Tezuka they'd all been up hours ago.
He dragged himself up, deciding to take a quick shower and put on some clothes before wandering the mansion to find the others. God, his ass hurt like hell.
He liked it.
"He called me the next morning, asking if I was okay. He - ... he asked if I was okay, said he was worried about me, said he was sorry for arguing with me and that maybe we should spend the weekend with just the two of us, at an onsen. I quietly told him that it was over, that I wanted to go back to being only friends. He said he didn't understand..."
Swallowing guiltily, Tezuka realized how much talking of those times had affected him. He'd forgotten... frozen away many of the feelings and memories, the good times and the bad times he'd shared with his blue eyed lover.
"I heard the rumor about your face covered in red hand prints," Yukimura quietly interjected as Tezuka paused. The stoic man was having difficulty speaking, and clearly needed a break. But his audience knew not to touch him, to give him time, so he wouldn't stonewall. He was trying - even through his monotone, the despair he felt remembering those times seeped through.
"Yumiko came over to my house at the end of the week and slapped me."
Her palm connected with his cheek, over and over again, though she felt her skin sting and knuckles crack, she didn't stop until she was satisfied. But Tezuka didn't move or try to defend himself in anyway, so she ran out of energy, her eyes glowering with sated anger.
"Continue," deadpanned Tezuka.
"No..." she panted, for some reason unable to meet the eyes of this man whom she came to discipline. "I'm satisfied."
"I'm not," said Tezuka, his face never changing.
Yumiko left without another word.
The next time he saw her, though, with Fuji, she smiled and acted as though nothing had happened. She informed him some time later that Syuusuke didn't know about her confrontation, and that he'd be mad if he found out - at her.
Tezuka never understood, but after that, the woman would ocassionally call him, treating him like an old friend. She would mostly fill him in on Fuji's love life, usually through complaints, but say that she wasn't going to interfere. He never understood why she would want him to in her stead.
He remembered Yumiko's words, the one time it came up in one of their conversations. "I only forgave you because you broke up with him," she said, her voice calm and honest through the phone. "I saw the guilt in your eyes, and you took responsibility for what you did." She sighed. "It never even crossed Syuusuke's mind that he should dump you. He should have - you deserved it."
"She's right you know," Atobe drawled, though his tone was less egotistic than usual. "I doubt Syuusuke even realized you hurt him."
"I know," the brunette choked. "But it was... bad. I can't even say it was that pleasurable. I attacked him in a blind rage, barely aware of what I was doing. I could have killed him."
There was a breathless pause, before he added, "I would have, at that moment, if that was the only way to make him mine." The cold severity of his tone made it clear that he was serious. He knew that at that time, in his fury, all he cared about was ensuring no one else could have his tensai, his Syuusuke.
He was a monster of jealousy, a powerful one with the cruel strength to back his anger.
And now everyone knew.
He wanted them to hate him. He hoped that now they understood why he could not be near Fuji, why he did not trust himself, even less than he trusted Yukimura. Why he could not be apart of their relationship, whether or not it was absurd enough to work. At least... if Atobe was involved, and maybe Sanada as well, the four of them might be alright...
He knew he should not be involved. For a long time he had avoided any relationship, terrified that he'd do the same things over again, feel the same terrible jealousy and want to cage and hurt the one he wanted to claim. He'd decided it was okay to date Sanada because he knew how strong the kendo expert was - he might be able to defeat Sanada in a hand-to-hand judo match but he couldn't easily hurt the larger, more muscular frame. He liked Sanada enough, and they seemed to go well together, so he'd brought down his walls just enough to give it a try...
That's right, Sanada was his boyfriend now. He felt comfortable around Sanada.
But he would give the vice captain up if that was what Fuji... what Yukimura said that Fuji needed. At least, the bluenette seemed more than willing to let Sanada into the strange little clique, and Tezuka felt better knowing that the noble minded youth was nearby his beloved.
That was the other problem... he knew he still loved Fuji. Even when he had forgotten, a part of him had always known. And though he knew that Fuji was dating his rivals on purpose, the tactic was working to an extent... every time he heard the stories, the rumors, he felt the sickening, broiling feeling rise within him, so familiar, so horrible...
He knew that as long as he loved Fuji, he had to keep his distance.
He could never touch the tensai again.
Water trailed down his legs and pooled upon the black stone floor. Fuji dried his skin and hair off as best he could before slipping into the bathrobe hanging ready on the door. The thin, smooth material stuck to his dampened skin, and wearing the deep red robe him feel like a pampered mistress. Leave it to Atobe to only have scarlet silk bathrobes.
He'd been looking for his favorite white velous one but it must have been put away after he left. The servants would have saved it somewhere. He'd have to ask them later... if he planned on coming back.
Feeling the ache in his lower back, he wondered if this was really where he should be. This was what Seiichi wanted, so he had come, and more importantly, Tezuka had for some reason come to... and Fuji would give anything to be together with his one true beloved.
But even if that was what he wanted, that didn't mean that was what was best for Tezuka. Or for Yukimura. Or even for Sanada and Atobe. He felt like he corrupted them, dirtied them just by being near them. He was a masochistic whore... no, when he thought about it, he was below even that, but the others didn't know about the other part.
He realized he should just leave.
End things with Yukimura, go back to his tacit, meaningless friendship with Tezuka. Say hi to Atobe at gallery exhibits from time to time, but otherwise avoid him. Not have to deal with Sanada except for at tournaments. Maybe not even that... he'd been meaning to quite tennis for awhile, but his aching desire to stay by Tezuka's side had motivated him to keep playing.
He'd give up on Tezuka, as he should have done years ago, when the stoic captain had stopped loving him. He'd throw away tennis. It was the simplest way to break his connection with them... all of them. Anyone he'd ever dated or had sex with. He'd run away, transfer schools, study abroad, do anything that would help him let go.
He'd leave Tezuka alone because he loved him.
The voice of the one from his thoughts drifted out into the hallway, calling to him like a siren. He knew he shouldn't be selfish, that if he went there now he would be shipwrecked, ruined by his desire to claim Tezuka as his own. He didn't have to go back. He knew where the diva's bedroom was. He could borrow some clothes and have Atobe send him his things later.
If only his feet would pick themselves off the floor and turn away. If he left now, they would understand. If he left now, they would leave him alone. But if he waited, it would be too late... once the five of them were together, now that they had all shared the same thing, the same poison that was his body, Yukimura would start to weave the threads of a relationship that would end up strangling them all.
But that deep, penetrating sound kept him in place. It entranced him and mesmerized him...and broke his heart. It formed words he couldn't believe, said things he knew weren't true. He couldn't hear everything from where he was but he heard enough. He heard Tezuka claiming he had hurt him, that he broke up with him because of one night of rough sex. Fuji'd missed most of the story and he could barely hear his captain's voice, but he heard Atobe mention a 'she', and wondered if they were talking about Yumiko. Tezuka replied too quietly for him to hear, so he drifted towards the open door, wanting to know, needing to, being pulled towards it.
"All the more reason for you to take part in this relationship," Yukimura was saying, and Fuji could picture a gentle smirk on the bluenette's face. "It'll be therapy for you too."
"You'll have to get over the fact you're a spoiled rotten only child and learn to share," Atobe interjected, and Fuji thought he heard a snort which he knew must have come from Sanada.
"But even though he says he consented, the consent came afterward, not before," the brunette's deep voice lamented. "How could I-"
"God, Tezuka, you're the only one who'd break up over one bought of bad sex." The diva rolled his eyes, settling back against the prop of pillows.
"It was bad because only I enjoyed it-"
"But that was the best sex I've ever had!"
Fuji stood in the door way, tears streaming down his face. He knew he must have said something stupid, especially from the looks he was getting, but once he realized what time they were talking about he'd just blurted out what he felt. He'd always known something had gone wrong that night, but even after partially eavesdropping he couldn't understand what. He'd thought that Tezuka was just fed up with him, of his tactics, of his lifestyle, of his games. He'd felt that he'd always failed to make Tezuka happy, that he'd dragged the captain through too many things that went against his stoic nature, that the only thing Fuji could really give him was sex.
Of course... if the sex was no good either, then he had nothing. Of course Tezuka had dumped him.
"Just because you can forgive me, doesn't mean I can forgive myself." The mournful captain averted his eyes, so that Fuji would not see the guilt simmering within them.
"I don't...I don't understand..." Unable to stop crying, what little energy the tensai had left him, and he collapsed onto his knees, leaning against the door frame for some last vestige of support. He felt a strange sort of hopelessness, heavy and oppressing, one that he should have felt when he was dumped and that would have saved him the pain of feeling rejected all over again, as he felt now. If only he had walked away...
"That's because you don't take care of yourself. You don't care enough about yourself. No, you don't care about yourself at all. You don't even-" Tezuka stopped short, realizing what he was about to say. You don't even love yourself.
It didn't look like the tensai was listening to him anyway. The honey haired brunette slumped dejectedly to the floor, looking as if all the world had abandoned him. Once Tezuka realized that the other three were not going to go comfort Fuji, he dragged himself out of bed, relieved that the tensai was too busy wiping away tears with his sleeves to notice how disheveled his captain was. Tezuka quickly tugged up his garments, the faintest blush staining his cheeks.
He walked slowly to the doorway, but in a few steps he was already there. He lowered himself and tugged the tensai's hands away from his face, holding them in his own as he gazed into swollen, red-rimmed eyes. Those cerulean orbs shimmered curiously at him, beautiful even as they leaked the ocean down Fuji's puffed up cheeks. A hint of fear danced within them, and Tezuka could almost hear them begging not to be hurt again, not to be rejected.
He brought his small beloved gently into his arms, letting the tearful eyes soak into his shirt. Syuusuke fit so perfectly against him, even as they were crouched on the ground, in the doorway of one of Atobe's many rooms.
Breathing deeply, Tezuka paused for a still moment before letting out a humble murmur.
"I'm sorry."
For everything.
AN: Please review! Nothing encourages me more. XD I love you guys, I'm so happy people still read here, even if it's down to two or three. -sweatdrop-