Catch My Fall

Chapter 4: If you made the world a stage for me, I hope that you can hear me scream. Won't you cure my tragedy?


"It's a surprise. Wear something you can sweat in," Tezuka said as he got to his feet.

Fuji was curious, he could tell, but he didn't ask for further details. He went over to his duffle bag and pawed through the contents. "Ah! I do have something."

"You can use my room, if you want."

Shaking his head, Fuji said, "No, I'll be fine here. You have to get your clothes from there anyhow."

Agreeing with the logic, Tezuka went into his room and changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He also pulled out a set of clothes to change into for work in case they didn't have enough time to come back.

Tezuka walked out into the living room and almost cancelled everything right then and there, in favour of staying home. Fuji was bent over, tying his shoes, wearing the shortest running shorts he'd seen in ages. Blinking a few times, Tezuka tried to reorder his thoughts back to what he was supposed to be doing, which, he doubted, was staring at Fuji's arse. He severely debated the legitimacy of a part of his body's insistence that looking wasn't all he should be doing.

"Ah, Tezuka, ready?" Fuji asked as he straightened himself out. Tezuka noticed that the shorts were just as distracting from the front as they were from the back.

Pointing to his shorts, Tezuka managed to ask, without drooling, he hoped, "Is that what you're wearing? It may be cold."

Smiling in a way Tezuka was sure was far too flirtatious in shorts that short, Fuji replied, "These are my only running shorts. I'm afraid I've not had the chance for shopping since I came back."

"We're not open tomorrow," Tezuka said, hoping he didn't sound too desperate. Being around Fuji, doing even the most mundane things, sounded far more appealing than doing his favourite hobbies alone. If he let himself think on it more, he knew he'd be calling himself all manner of synonyms for idiot and pathetic, but he decided to not think about himself, and instead focus on Fuji who, in his opinion, was always a delightful thing to muse about.

Fuji bounced on the balls of his feet, and laughed. "Would you like to be bored out of your mind going from shop to shop, carrying all of my heavy bags?"

He could think of few things he'd rather do, and he felt incredibly pathetic because of that. "I would. Ah, we should get going or we'll be late."

They had just barely got to the bus in time, but it was worth the few minutes of being out of breath. Tezuka took one look—a rather long, lustful look—at Fuji as he walked onto the bus before him, and decided that he didn't care if he was acting territorial or like cave man. As soon as Fuji found a space to stand, Tezuka was right behind him, arms braced on either side of him and did what can only be described as hovering over Fuji.

He was glad of this especially when they went over a bump, and Fuji fell onto him, clutching at his shirt to stay standing. Tezuka, in that moment both loved and loathed public transit. Fuji, to his surprise and delight, didn't let go for the rest of the ride, and if his hand rested on Fuji's hip, only to keep him upright, mind, Fuji never said anything about it.

It was another ten minutes of walking after they had gotten off of the bus. Tezuka was about to staple his jacket to the waistband of Fuji's shorts so no one else would ogle him.

"We're here," Tezuka said and he went up to the attendant, paying him, before leading Fuji inside.

"A batting cage?" Fuji asked, but there was no annoyance in his voice and Tezuka was relieved.

Tezuka put on his helmet and handed Fuji one as well. "Ever been?"

Fuji shook his head no, and put his helmet on as well.

"Come," Tezuka said, leading Fuji to their cage.

Looking at him with a rather infectious grin, Fuji, in his sweetest, most innocent voice, which told him that whatever was said was utter bullshit, asked, "Tezuka, can you help my form?"

Unlike he was usually wont to do, Tezuka pretended to be equally innocent and sweet. "Of course. Let me guide you."

Tezuka moved behind Fuji, his chest flat against Fuji's back, arms tangled and hands overlapping on the bat. Fuji, who was not being too terribly subtle, made sure to press back against Tezuka's erection. As they swung the bat at an oncoming ball, Tezuka looked down briefly at Fuji's smile and thought, well played, Fuji.


It was the first time in long while that Tezuka had considered showing up late to work. He told himself that it was because he didn't want to face Atobe and answer whatever overly intrusive questions he had about Tezuka's sex life, or lack thereof, but the truth was that he wanted to stay with Fuji. He was genuinely enjoying himself for the first time in ages.

Unlike almost every person Atobe had tried setting him up with for the past six years, he hadn't begun to tire of Fuji. It wasn't that he had never been attracted to someone. He had, but it usually fell flat because he could never stand listening to their mindless prattle. It normally took him less than eight hours in someone's company before he found fault with them to the point where visual appreciation was all that would ever exist. Fuji was different in so many ways. He was possibly the most attractive person Tezuka had ever met. It hadn't escaped the little voice in his head that liked to chide him that he spent more time than was polite staring at Fuji's arse. It, however, went beyond that. Fuji was intriguing, captivating, stunning, and all those things he'd never labeled anyone else.

It was nice to walk with Fuji, talking idly about different bands and local artists. Tezuka looked down at their hands as their knuckles brushed for the seventh time. He wondered how Fuji would react if he held his hand. Just as he mentally listed the third reason to do it, and the tenth reason not, Fuji reached over and threaded their fingers together without a word. All Tezuka could do was give Fuji's hand a squeeze and continue their discussion on how he would never do DDR no matter how drunk he ever became.


They were just deciding where to go for lunch when Fuji shivered a little. Tezuka offered him his coat, which he took, and they continued walking aimlessly as they discussed options. Tezuka noticed, however, that Fuji looked discomforted a bit. He looked behind him for a moment, frowning, and turned his attention, albeit strained, back to Tezuka. He could sense that something was bothering Fuji, but he didn't know what.

"Fuji?" he asked. He wondered if he could help, possibly. Fuji didn't say anything, but looked around again. "Fuji?" Tezuka asked again, a little louder.

"Oh? Did you say something?" Fuji asked, absently. He was a little bit worried because, even in that short time of knowing Fuji, it didn't seem like him to drift off.

"Is there something wrong?" Tezuka reached out and grasped both of Fuji's arms.

Fuji forced a smile on his face. "N-no. Just my imagination going wild I guess. C-can we just go back to your place?"

Tezuka nodded. "Sure. Let's pick something up at the local sushi bar first. We have time before we have to work."

He had hoped that this would ease Fuji's mind a little, but, much to his dismay, it didn't. Fuji kept nervously looking over his shoulder, and tensed at certain sounds as they walked. They were still holding hands, which told him that Fuji wasn't nervous about that.

As soon as they reached his doorway, Fuji stopped him. They just stood there for a few minutes, not speaking, not doing anything, but waiting.

Just as he was about to speak, Fuji beat him to it. "Tezuka, I'm sorry I behaved so strangely today. I thought I saw someone I knew from before."

Fuji didn't have to say anymore to tell Tezuka that whomever Fuji thought he saw wouldn't be a welcome sight. He waited for Fuji to say something to explain or clarify, but wasn't surprised when there was nothing more than a sigh and a shrug. Somehow, he knew that they'd discuss this further, later, but right now all Tezuka knew was that Fuji wanted the discomfort and anxiousness to go away and it pleased him that Fuji thought that Tezuka could provide it for him. Fuji leaned forward and rested his head on Tezuka's chest. "I'm sorry for being so forward."

Tezuka ran his hand consolingly through Fuji's hair. "I don't mind at all."

Fuji looked up at him then with a wistful expression on his face. "You don't?"

Closing the distance between them, Tezuka pressed their lips together in a soft, sweet kiss. He didn't seek to deepen it, but he couldn't pull away yet either. Fuji moved closer, clinging hesitantly to his arms. Tezuka pulled away after a few minutes, peppering small kisses on Fuji's cheek, nose, eyes, and forehead. "I don't think I'll ever mind."