The Newlywed's Night

Title: The Newlywed’s Night
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: T
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Tezuka x Fuji

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Konomi Takeshi, and others who published/licensed them. No money is accumulated though the reviews are badly needed for future improvement.

Appreciation: This story is co-written and ‘beta’-ed by OyasumiQuicy. Thank you for your generous help and guidance when I was helplessly trapped in the dark.

Warning: Cross-dressing and male x male relationships.

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Fuji Syuusuke is a very stylish guy, but I don’t really get what he’s trying to prove. Fine, he’s up-to-date with the latest fashion and assembles himself well (you wouldn’t want me to start on naming endless bottles of moisturizers, toners, vitamins and whatnots). He enhances his attractiveness to the maximum, sexy as hell, and he don’t act bitchy, unlike some in the fashion industry, in which I send my many thanks to the gods for last statement. However, living with him in the same apartment for the last 2 years, same room in college for 4 years, being classmates in high school and tennis teammates in junior high, I can expect much of that, except this.

‘This’ is a pink cotton ladies nightwear. The two-piece attire consists of a cute string top that hangs prettily on his shoulder as if it was meant for him, and a pair of tiny shorts that barely covered his milky thigh. It’s not that I have never seen his thighs; we played tennis together for god’s sake! As I said earlier, Syuusuke knows how to make him self attractive, and even though the pink nightwear was weird, it suited him, with his petite (despite his talent and genius brain, he grew barely more than a feet since junior high) and hairless body. When I said hairless, I mean hairless. He tidies himself well; shaving and waxing everything save for the hair on his head. He had kept his hair long ever since we entered college, and now, it has already reached his waist. I personally think that his hair is very beautiful, and it’s a shame if he suddenly decided to cut it off.

I found him in the kitchen after I got home from my tennis training; he was preparing dinner. When he heard me come through the door, he stopped faced me, as if there was nothing quite disturbing in his appearance. Quite disturbing since I noticed that, although a pink frilly apron – the ones he insisted on buying - covered him, I could still distinguish the nightwear clearly. The pink, Hello Kitty patterns were dead giveaway. His pink fluffy Hello Kitty slippers accentuated his attire. I checked for any ‘Hello Kitty’ hairpin on his head, and thankfully, there’s none.

“Ah, Mitsu-dear [1], you’re back,” he cheerfully greeted me, flashing his infamous sweet smile. We’re already down on first name basis. It’s only natural considering how many years we’ve been friends. However, the ‘-dear’ part was confusing me. We never agreed nor talked about him calling me like that. “Thank you for your hard work, honey!” he continued. Honey? Now wherever did that come from? When he flashed me his seductively sexy smile, I felt a shiver run down my spine, and then a realization hit me. This was definitely NOT a good sign.

“You must be very tired. But there’s no more need for you to worry. I’ve already set everything. Do you want dinner, bath or m–” [2]

“I’ll just have my dinner, thank you.” I cut him fast before he managed to complete his sentence. So it’s newlywed’s night today, huh? I knew it would come, eventually.

Syuusuke likes to do weird things; it’s his common standing. Some of his weird quirks include teasing the neighbors’ pets, flirting with the bank guards (not the counter people), and painting the police dogs green (his genius-ness was absolutely proven when he pulled that stunt off). His latest obsession is role-playing, which explains his behavior today and tonight it includes his girly nightwear, it seems.

I was in a dilemma.

Two days ago, he acted out Legolas, the elf from the movie ‘Lord of the Rings”. I played along as Aragorn, not because I was enjoying it, but because it happened to be my favorite scene and the script was good.

Yesterday, he acted as my coach. I played along, again, because it relieved my stress, and Syuusuke imitating my coach was funny and quite impressive for someone as effeminate as him.

Today, he was acting like a good newlywed wife. Should I play along again? I have a tingling suspicion that the nightwear was part of the props too, but shouldn’t it be sexier? Like the black lacy ones…

Let’s NOT go there Kunimitsu, I reminded myself. I guess Syuusuke’s weirdness had somehow rubbed off on me.

“Mou… Mitsu-dear, am I not appealing to you tonight?” he pouted cutely, putting his pointer finger at his lower lip for a greater effect.

I gave him my impassive expression.

It didn’t deter him, never before and certainly not now. Leaning against me, he smiled again and whispered “Mi-tsu…mea-nie…”

Then, he tapped my nose gently, turned around and exclaimed merrily. “Saa, my Mitsu-chan wants dinner!” and skipping excitedly to the kitchen. ‘My Mitsu-chan’? Since when did I become his?

Rubbing my face, I ignored that comment and sat down at the dining table when Syuusuke appeared, with his gloved hands holding our dinner, happily. The table had already been set, Chinas, silvers and such. Putting a clay pot in front of me, he stood behind my chair while he opened the lid, which revealed puffs of steam with delicious aroma. “Korean Samgyetang…You said that you like this meal last time you went to Korea…” he whispered against my ear closely.

Despite my logic, blood rushed to my face.

He remembered. Yes, I told him that I that I liked the dish when I went to Korea last year for the Asian Tennis Championship, rather I accidentally told him. I thought it didn’t matter.

I won that cup by the way.

“Where did you get the recipe?” I asked, so that Syuusuke won’t think that I was speechless.

Receiving no answer, I turned my head to his direction, only to see a beautiful pair of cerulean eyes gazing at me. Our faces mere centimeters away from each other, he smiled with mirth and said, “Internet.” His answer was simple; it’s not as if he had any connection with any Korean chefs, whatsoever. Nevertheless, knowing Syuusuke, anything is possible. “I hope you liked it though. It’s my first attempt,” he continued.

Then he went to the kitchen to get the side dishes, I think. During his short absence, I shook my head several times to get rid of the awkward feeling. Within seconds, he was back, setting the side dishes and bottles of salt, pepper and chili powder on the table. After he removed and put his frilly apron on the counter, he joined me at the table, with his cute tiny nightwear and all.

Lifting his own clay pot’s lid, he said, “Thanks for the food!” [3] I nodded and mumbled “Thanks for the food…” under my breath and took my first bite of the chicken. It’s good, I thought. The tender flavor of the chicken overwhelmed my senses. I reached for the rice and soup with my spoon and put it in my mouth. It tasted like heaven.

“-…?” a sudden question from Syuusuke brought me out of my trance of indulgence. I looked back at him, and raised an eyebrow, wondering at what he just said.

“It’s …” I started and he peered at my face with curiosity, eyes blinking. “…fine,” I said, hoping it answered his question. My answer, in any case, was universal, and could apply to many questions like “How is your day?”, “How is the meal?”, “How is your coach?”, “Can I have a home theater sound system?” or even “Can I install a bulletproof window in my room?”

“Okay. I’ll prepare everything once you’ve taken your bath,” he said a little bit happily, which made the alarm in my head go “Niyuuu…niyuuu!!!!” Bath? What is he planning now?

“Hn?” was my innocent little word that came unbidden. The reflexive question came a little bit too fast before I could stop myself. Stupid Kunimitsu, you gave yourself away.

“Your secret ‘ser-vi-ces’,” he purred, smiling evilly, which made his eyes sparkle. I blamed the overhead lamp. There must be something wrong with the bulb, I suspected.

“I take that the meal is delicious? You seem distracted,” he asked. Unable to think of any way out, I only said “Hn” - my usual reply. I didn’t have to say more. I knew he would understand and be happy with my answer.

“Kunimitsu-chan is so cute,” he teased.

I ignored him.

I finished everything about 45 minutes later, taking my time to clean everything on my plate and in my clay pot. We talked about work and some people occasionally during the meal. Overall, dinner was pleasant.

After we finished eating, I took all the empty dishes to the sink and help him cleared the table. He stopped me, claiming that I needed my rest after a hard of day training, still with occasional touching and purring.

I told him that I insisted, it’s not that hard and it’s fair since he prepared the delicious meal.

Looking into my eyes, he circled his arms around my waist and said with his sweet smile. “Thank you dear. I’ll reheat your bath then, and get prepared for your ser-vi-ces…” He moved, his touch lingering on my belly and then, he was gone, heading towards the bathroom.

Okay, that was weird.

Why?

Because ‘One’ – we never, ever hug each other. Okay, the one when we won the national cup back in junior high was an exception, or the time when Syuusuke won a trip to Rome in a lucky draw. Same goes with the time when he was nearly hit by a truck 2 years ago, or the time when he hid in my embraces when the chemical lab in our college exploded…

…Fine.

We did hug each other on several occasions, but none of it because of physical affection. We hugged when it’s a…necessity. It was not something we did casually in normal basis.

Two – contrary to popular beliefs, spending practically more than 10 years together doesn’t make us a couple. We never kissed each other - though people said that sharing water bottles or cups make an indirect kiss but to me, that’s just ridiculous! We never exchanged the sacred 4-letter word (the ‘l’ word, not the ‘f’ one). We never happily held hands, or went out for a romantic movie or theme park. We never shared a glass of sundae or did the love fortunes together, and we never, ever slept with each other. Well, the closest of us sleeping together would be the times when we’re sleeping in flights or trains.

Three – what’s with the ‘dear’ thing? Are we still in the newlywed game? If he is, this was the longest time he acted in a role-playing game of his. Moreover, that ‘services’ he said before sounded suspicious, not to mention it really threw me askew. What was he trying to do, anyway?

Placing the last plate in the dishwasher, I concluded that there’s nothing productive in doing my self-monologue in the kitchen. Wiping my hands with the towel by the fridge, I turned off the kitchen light and went to my bedroom.

Nothing changed in my bedroom, no weird items nor the existence of Syuusuke, aside from a bathrobe folded neatly on my king size bed. Why the king size bed when I was obviously sleeping alone? Well, that answer is Syuusuke. He’s the one who insisted on buying it (even though it’s not his bed!). He claimed that bigger bed equals better sleeps plus more rest. He even added that those things are important for a professional tennis player like me. I see nothing wrong with me sleeping in a single bed. It’s not as if I sleep like a clock needles, turning my sleeping orientation every passing hour. I was absolutely fine and dandy before, but he simply retorted, “Listen to the doctor’s advice!”

That leaves me with no room to argue. With the two-lettered honorific that he bears with his name, Dr. Fuji Syuusuke specializes in acupuncture and traditional oriental medicine. People say that the job suited Syuusuke perfectly, being the genius and all, but I knew better. He specialized in that area because he took the pleasure of jabbing other people with needles just to make them look like a life-sized cactus. He’s a natural sadistic after all.

This has nothing to do with the frilly apron, mind you.

Picking up the clean softener-scented bathrobe, I strode to the bathroom, conveniently glancing at Syuusuke’s room on my way. The door of his bedroom is closed, but Syuusuke was awake. I knew from the yellow bed light that shone under his bedroom door.

Maybe he was already tired playing wife for tonight. Although the thought would be a relief, I knew that it wouldn’t be that easy. Besides, Syuusuke did mention something about ‘services’. I shivered inwards and continued my pace to the bathroom.

Tbc…


[1] Japanese wives called their husband “anata”; I jsust used the English form
[2] – this is a typical conversation by the newlyweds featured by the Japanese when the husbands arrive at home from work. The wives will say something along the lines of “oh dear you’re back, what would you like first? Dinner, bath, or ‘me’?” well, you get it when they choose ‘me’ right? In this story, Kunimitsu choose ‘dinner’ before Syuusuke manages to say the ‘me’ part.
[3] – “Itadakimasu!” You know what that means. I prefer changing the Japanese words into English so that the fic won’t be awkward to read, with the romanji Japanese thrown here and there.