Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ A Game Worth Winning ❯ Breathe ( Chapter 4 )

"A Game Worth Winning" Series

A "Prince of Tennis" Fanfic

Title: "Breathe "

By Andrea Readwolf <andrea_readwolf @hotmail.com>

Chapter: 4

Rating: R for sexual situations and profanity

Date Started: May 3, 2004

Status: complete

Revised: May 30, 2004

Pairings: Tezuka Kunimitsu + Fuji Syusuke, FxT, O+K, others implied

Genre: Angst, Drama, Hentai, Romance, Yaoi

Series Rating: Mature for sexual content

Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama, characters and settings are the property of Konomi Takeshi.

Warnings: Underage characters in homosexual romantic and sexual situations of self-discovery. Characters are written in character according to author's interpretation.

Summary: It's Fuji's turn to reflect upon the past.

"A Game Worth Winning--Breathe " By Andrea Readwolf

Fuji was a person who took his pleasure from anywhere and everywhere he pleased--it was a bad habit formed by someone who was most often bored with Life in general. That's what was so wonderful about Tezuka Kunimitsu--no matter what, the teen had never bored him.

Fuji Syusuke was, in fact, fascinated by Tezuka Kunimitsu; had been from the first moment he'd seen that golden haired boy in class the morning of his first day at Seigaku. Tezuka was so serious, so fiercely determined...

He'd set out to learn more about him. He'd learned that Tezuka was a member of the Tennis Club, so Fuji joined, too--it really wasn't much of a hardship really, since he generally liked tennis well enough. Tezuka was an only child who, like Fuji, was actually older than most of the students in their year by a couple of months. The other students all idolized Tezuka--the boys envied the teen's skill, his intelligence, and his overall coolness, while the girls adored all of the above and his good looks, too.

Tezuka's eyes--his very soul, mesmerized Fuji. Like the teen held inside himself the very secrets of the universe, and Fuji very much wanted to possess that knowledge. He didn't know when exactly he had made the concise decision to seduce the older boy--after that first weekend, but before the summer. The Regular members had been training hard. By secret pact, four other freshmen practiced hard, too. They would meet on weekends or early before school. They visited Tezuka's house and the courts his family kept in the back yard, or they would travel to the park and play against others...

By summer, Fuji and Kikumaru were already practicing doubles together, and the chemistry between the pair was apparent enough to anyone with eyes why they had earned the nickname "Dream Team". Even the non-Regular members of the tennis club seemed to think that there would be a lot more juniors on next years Regulars' team. And they were correct. Tezuka, Fuji, Oishi, Inui, Kikumaru, and another junior became Regular members during their second year at Seigaku. Of course, there were times when one or another would be rotated out when ranking competitions came, but Tezuka and Fuji always remained.

What did seem to surprise most people--although Fuji didn't know why--was that Tezuka was named vice-captain.

The young vice-captain only excited Fuji more. He knew if he really wanted to, he could best the older boy, but that would have required a level of seriousness Fuji didn't care to exhibit. He'd much rather work at getting the other boy to notice *him*, notice his body, and want him.

But Tezuka never acted, and Fuji became bored with waiting for him to play the first move. Each day, he moved closer and closer to match point, until the day of their match with Hyotei came and went.

Inui and Oishi hadn't been part of that game, but it still hurt to lose. Everyone was feeling somewhat sorry for himself--they had lost doubles one and third and first singles. If only they had won that last match... But, they hadn't been able to deliver that chance; they'd lost their chance to get into the Nationals that year when some second year bested their captain.

The tennis vice-captain remained silent on the bus ride back to school, and no one else dared break the melancholy silence either. When the bus arrived at school, no one made any move to leave; all stood, waiting, as if knowing without being told that they couldn't leave without words being said, whether those words be of reprieve or reproach.

"It was a good match today," Tezuka finally said, shouldering his tennis bag higher onto his shoulder when their captain remained silent. "We did a good job and should be proud of the hard work that got us this far. Go home, relax, you've earned it. You're going to need it for Monday."

And then the stoic boy walked away, having never once looked at any of them.

Fuji smiled, turning to follow the other fourteen year old. It wasn't hard to guess where Tezuka was going, and neither teen seemed to feel the need to talk; so Fuji just walked beside the other boy, marveling at Tezuka's words.

It had been a good match, but Seigaku had been defeated. They would know better now; they would know to pay special attention to defeating Hyotei next year when they fought their way up to the Nationals and won.

Just like their former captain had said, maybe not their second year, but next year, their senior year, Seigaku would find itself in the Nationals.

They stopped in front of the Tezuka home, Fuji waiting for the other boy to open the gate, but the other body didn't move. After a moment, finally, Tezuka spoke.

"My parents aren't home." He let that statement hang between them, knowing it was nothing all that unusual. "They won't be back until Monday." There was another pause, and then golden eyes looked up and directly into open blues.

"You can come in, if you want to," he added, turning to open the gate.

Much like Fuji's parents, the Tezukas seemed to stay away from home, and thus their son's life, as much as humanly possible, leaving the young teen to his own devices much of the time. But where Fuji had had an elder sister and little brother to eat away at the emptiness, Tezuka had only himself. Now that Yuuta had chosen to live at the dormitory of his chosen junior high school, Saint Rudolf's, Fuji could understand and appreciate the hatefulness one could associate with an empty house.

The Tezuka house was familiar to him--as a place where friends visited regularly, as a place to study for quizzes and exams, or practice new exercises on the courts out back. To Fuji, this house was more of a place of comfort and safety than his own had ever been, and now, he entered not with fear but fiery expectations burning in his stomach.

Tezuka was smart, Fuji would never deny that, and he knew--the older boy knew and understood--what it was Fuji had wanted from him. But Tezuka had never made any overtures, not by words or gestures before, to say whether or not he welcomed what Fuji offered. Not until today, at least. And now that the chance was there, being offered to him, Fuji found himself excited, yes, but also quite nervous.

Today, the air around them seemed charged with extra electricity.

Today, as Tezuka flipped the deadlock bolt into place behind them, it seemed to echo in the empty hour like a bell toll.

Today, instead of leading his guest into the living room and inviting him to take a seat or entering the kitchen to pour drinks, Tezuka headed for the steps leading to the never entered before second floor, his silence and body posture speaking of his confidence and expectations of Fuji to follow him.

Inside his bedroom, Tezuka set his tennis bag on the floor and closer to the wall, out of the way near the large bed that seemed to dominate the room. He slid out of his Regulars jacket, hanging it up on a hanger and hook behind the door, before removing another hanger from his closet and holding a demanding hand out towards Fuji.

Smiling to hide his confusion, the blond obligingly slid out of his Regular's jacket with silken moves, handing the material over to the young vice-captain and watching Tezuka hang it with the same precise care he'd shown his own jacket. Treating the material like it was a prized badge of honor, Fuji mused.

Maybe picking up on his thoughts, Tezuka continued to look at the jackets as he spoke for the first time in minutes. "I'm proud of this jacket," he said. "I'm proud to be the vice-captain of such a good team," he added, and then turned to look at Fuji. "But we're not great, not yet. And I want to be great."

Fuji returned that watchful gaze, noticing the small shivers that seemed to affect the older boy's entire body, as if some repressed emotion was struggling just below the surface of his skin to break free.

"Help me make this team great, Syusuke."

Whether it was a demand or a request, Syusuke didn't know. What he did know was that hearing his given name roll off Tezuka's tongue like warm, rich chocolate did something to him, something to his body, and suddenly, without realizing he'd moved, Syusuke found himself standing before the older teen, a hand reaching up to cup Kunimitsu's cheek with a tenderness he was unaccustomed to bestowing sincerely on anyone not his family.

His voice sounded strange in his own ears as he promised, "Anything, Kunimitsu. Everything and anything you want," he breathed before leaning up and sealing the promise with a kiss, pressing his lips to the older, taller teen's mouth.

And that was when Fuji Syusuke realized several things at once.

One: he wanted Tezuka Kunimitsu in any and every way possible.

Two: He'd honestly meant what he'd just promised the older teen.

And three: all the while he'd been busy seducing Tezuka, the other teen had been seducing him, too.

*

Warm breath washed over his face--that was the first thing he noticed. It was all his mind needed to process where he was, who he was with... that he was safe, the he... wasn't alone. That he was grateful.

Sometimes he hated that gratitude; sometimes he hated the person who was the cause of it. Sometimes he had to fight down the urge to roll over and tear down everything in sight--and even more, tear apart all the construction that couldn't be seen. But he knew--even those first few weeks after he had realized what was happening, he knew... he... couldn't.

Even if he did manage to destroy everything, he couldn't undo what had been done. Not now, not ever.

And more to the point, Syusuke wasn't sure anymore that even if he *could*... he wasn't sure if he really, honestly *wanted* to...

Tezuka Kunimitsu had changed him, irrevocably.

Once, long ago, he'd been a child--a carefree and innocent being, loving and trusting of everyone and everything, happy and joyful. He knew this, but he couldn't remember that time. He could only remember the pain and the hurt--the burning, crawling needs and desires as they seared his skin and spirit. He felt controlled by them; he was consumed by them. He knew and understood that fire well--so intimately well, that he didn't even know when he'd stopped being its victim and became its handler instead.

He controlled the pain and hurt--those who fell victim to it learned quickly to never underestimate the pretty, smiling child. They learned not to threaten his loved ones or gain his attention in any foul way.... because when Fuji Syusuke became angry, the winds screamed with his fury, and those it attacked rarely survived with their spirits and body unmarred by the scars left in its wake.

When he had first met Tezuka, everything was about his own pleasure. He liked to watch people, see their reactions. It gave him immense pleasure to see their faces when they realized how wrong their assumptions were about him. It titillated him with the sweetest taste rippling along his nerve ends, similar to the feel of a warm body screaming beneath him as he moved inside it... Watching their faces twist in pained confusion and then finally with horrified realization when he made the final choice to destroy someone... It was like ambrosia.

At first, he studied Tezuka because the other interested him; he had not made a decision to hunt the other boy, only watch and amuse himself with understanding the enigma that was the perfect model student... the perfect model tennis player... But Kunimitsu was a beautiful paradox, Syusuke saw right away, and that intrigued him. Because hidden so carefully below that outward model of perfection was a lake of passion and desires that sizzled and burned, easily detected only when he played his chosen sport... Still so calm and in control for all appearances... except his eyes. He couldn't hide the passion that burned from those golden eyes...

Syusuke wanted that passion. He wanted to taste it, feel it bend beneath him--but Kunimitsu denied him that quick, easy devourement.

He should have destroyed him then; it would have been easy at that point to simply take several games from the young "pillar", blemish his image, tarnish his shine, reduce him to mere mortal standards, just like everyone else... But... Syusuke was already trapped, because, somehow, his pleasure had become mixed up completely with Tezuka Kunimitsu... his pleasure had *become* Tezuka Kunimitsu...

He'd tried. So help him, he'd tried. For a week, he avoided the other teen whenever possible. And damn Tezuka, for letting him. The other boy didn't try to approach him, didn't force any confrontation upon him, didn't demand answers... but he watched him. Syusuke was constantly aware of that golden gaze sizzling against his skin. If he acted differently that week at school, no one said much of anything, too wrapped up in their own self-pity at loosing their chance at the Nationals. Even Eiji, his regular doubles partner, was more than distracted to not notice anything wrong with his best friend.

If.. if maybe Tezuka *had* forced the issue than... maybe they could have had their falling out and moved on; maybe things would be different, maybe he wouldn't be laying here on soft over-washed sheets with warm bands of steel wrapped around him and hot breath washing over his face.... Maybe...

But Tezuka had waited for Syusuke to come to him, to confront *him*... And he did, of course he did--and his mood was as foul as the weather outside had been as Syusuke raged at the taller boy. He'd flung words of hate and punishment and pain at Tezuka, lashing out in anger, and yes, animalistic fear. Tezuka had stood calmly, as if in the center of the hurricane, only minutely aware of the chaos surrounding him as he continued to watch Syusuke patiently, an air of distatched observation about him--

That annoyed Syusuke the most. *No one* was allowed to distance themselves from him like that! He'd lashed out, with his fists this time, determined to gain *some* reaction from the other boy--it didn't even have to be the fear his insides were screaming for, just *something*---

And then he'd found himself jerked off balance, fingers pinching into his wrist, arm wrenched up behind his back as he was pressed into the bedroom wall, Tezuka loaming over him, invading his space without touching him in any other way. And there it was--the emotions, bubbling feverently in those golden eyes; not fear, but something just as tantalizing: desire.

"I told you my conditions last week, Syusuke," the other teen half growled half purred. "If you don't agree with them, then leave."

He didn't have to say it, but Fuji Syusuke heard the words any way. He knew Tezuka was talking about more than just leaving his house... he was talking about leaving the team, leaving the school... leaving tennis completely.

Syusuke fought against him like a wild animal, but in matters of sheer body strength and weight, Tezuka had the upper hand and was able to restrain Syusuke simply by leaning into him.

Syusuke was breathing quickly, on the verge of hyperventilating. It was a strange experience to him--even when he was younger and had been in a similar position as this, he'd never been so short-winded. And with that realization came another: the fear he wanted from Kunimitsu was simply a projection of the fear he wished to rid himself from.

"Stop fighting, Syusuke."

The words were soft, affectionate, even amused... whispered into his ear, lips brushing his skin like an airy kiss....

And gods damn it all if he didn't do just that. He just fell silent, breathing heavily against Kunimitsu's shoulder, breathing the other boy's scent into himself, eyes wide open and yet shut. His one arm was still twisted up behind him--some part of his mind noted that it wasn't his dominant arm--while his other hand was free to clutch into the material of Kunimitsu's shirt.

"You want me."

It was such a simple statement--not a question, although the other boy answered by nodding.

"You want me, too."

The voice was warm, teasing... affectionate but strong... Syusuke shivered. He could... he could give in... he could fall, let go... he could *drown*...

"I want you to fuck me," he hissed, fingers digging into Kunimitsu's shirt, threatening to tear the fabric. "I want you to ride me, hard, all night long," he punctuated.

A fist yanked his head back, forcing him to look up into that angel-like face... the angel with the burning golden eyes.... And even in the forcefulness of the act, there was a gentleness that also surrounding it--the fingers that pulled used only enough force to arch his neck, not pull any hair out...

Syusuke had to bite back a moan. This... this wasn't him... *He* was never the submissive one... But... but...

"When we win Nationals," Kunimitsu purred, lowering his face closer to Syusuke's, hovering so close... but not touching...

"That's a year away now," Syusuke reminded him with no little resentment, their failure from a few weeks earlier still very fresh. "And not guaranteed."

"Then you better help me prepare the best team between now and then so it *is* guaranteed," Kunimitsu replied, his lower body pressing firmly into Syusuke's.

And this time Syusuke did moan, a breathy little thing that was used to incite and excite another person into lust. "You want me now... I want you now..."

An amused smile stretched those lips at the corners. "And a few minutes ago you were ready to rip my testicles off," the older boy repeated one of the many threats and promises Syusuke had thrown at him, proving he *had* been listening.

Blue eyes narrowed and he was about to remind the other boy that he could *still* follow through on that action when another thought entered his mind. His smile turned lazy, and he leaned back into the wall, putting just those scant centimeters between their bodies, hardly enough to make any real difference.

"I can always find it from someone else," he purred, running his tongue across his lips and clucking. An amused and mocking smile twisted his lips.

The other's smile vanished.

"No one, Syusuke," Kunimitsu growled, reclaiming those centimeters of distance. "Do I make myself clear---? *No* *one* *touches* you but me," he stressed. "And you touch no one else--"

"But you?" he couldn't help but mock, undulating his body against the taller boy's. "But you don't *want* to touch me, Kunimitsu..."

"No.. I won't *fuck* you," the other boy correct, and now he was grinning. Syusuke could hear the blood rushing past his ears as if it were the wind and he was driving really fast in his sister's car with all the windows down. He wanted to whimper, cry out, but Kunimitsu was still talking.

"I never said I wouldn't *touch* you, Syusuke--But no one else can. Do you understand me? It ends now. No more fucking around."

"Why, Kunimitsu, I don't know what you mean--" he tried to sound innocent, but found his breath knocked out of him again seconds later when Kunimitsu pulled away only to reaffirm his pressure against Syusuke's body.

"You know *exactly* what I mean, Syusuke," the other boy hissed. "You keep you legs shut and your ass covered," he elaborated, pressing his thigh between Syusuke's, the hand holding his wrist releasing him and skimming down to cover his ass, staying there.

"That fling with Atsuhara? Over. Hiroshi? Over. Makoto? Over. Kikumaru? Over--"

"Now wait a minute," he started to protest.

"I'm switching your doubles partners on Monday," Kunimitsu continued as if Syusuke hadn't said anything. "You can still be friends, but no more sleeping with him--or anyone else."

"But you."

Kunimitsu nodded. "But me," he agreed.

Syusuke was torn between frowning and glaring. "And what do I get in return for all this supposed good behavior, Kunimitsu? Hmmm?"

If looks could sear the soul....

"Me."

Than Syusuke's soul, if he had had one at that point in his life, would have been branded. Maybe it had been, and he just hadn't realized it then.

"When we win the Nationals," he reminded the other boy sardonically of his own demands.

But Kunimitsu was grinning and shaking his head. "Then you'll have me here," he corrected, squeezing Syusuke's ass as he whispered, "fucking you, hard, all night long... Until then..." and Syusuke's chest constricted painfully at the sight of the grin on the other boy's face. "There's a lot more to sex than just taking or giving it up the ass, Syusuke. Care to explore a little with me?"

He gave the boy an assessing look. "Just a little?"

"Mmm... maybe a lot..."

Yes, Tezuka Kunimitsu intrigued him... this beautiful walking paradox of perfect model and virgin demon--with the desires he hid from everyone, even Oishi... passions he hid from everyone... except Syusuke.

And Syusuke wanted that passion...

Even if it meant selling the soul he hadn't believed existed to get it.

Because, the fact of the matter was.... he *needed* Kunimitsu. Needed the other boy's eyes watching him, searing him. His touch, marking him. His passion, burning him.... His... love...

Yes, that was what made Kunimitsu different, Syusuke realized, nuzzling his nose against the warm skin pressed against his cheek--different from all the others. Not that he loved Syusuke, because there had been too many of those.... No, it was that somehow... in some way that he still wasn't sure of... Kunimitsu had made Syusuke love him, too.

And he'd be damned if he let anyone get in his way of Seigaku winning the Nationals this year.

~Owari "Breath"~

End Notes:

>.< Yeah... well, I had to do a *lot* of editing and revision to get this piece to make *this* much sense... don't even *try* to imagine how cracked up it was *before* I started editing and revision...

Fuji was pretty insistent on having his say on matters...I just...didn't realize how, um, intense (?) his say would be. I'm still trying to figure out a lot of it, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask--I'll answer to the best of my ability.

I'm taking a break from this piece now-- I want to work on some stuff that's *less* angst seeming... Maybe some fluff...

The Kaidoh/Inui piece for this series is finished, but it's also very intense...

The Ryoma/Momoshiro story line seems to be coming along well; although that's going to be broken up into two main stories ( "Friends and Lovers" and "My Best Friend", I think), along with a slew of short pieces.

Also, it appears I've had some "rival" bunnies show up in my apartment... The only problem is, I'm not quite sure what to do with them... Well, that's not true. ^.^ I know *exactly* what I would like to do with Shinji and Akira... but, well, Atobe's crew is throwing me for a loop (though, I'm beginning to suspect I have a distinct *thing* for guys with glasses {tries not to star openly at dark, intense, and spectacled}), and I'm afraid to even *try* and guess who some of these other rabbits belong to... (Okay! Who's in charge of the kid with the bubble gum, cause so help me, if he gets it on my one pair of sheets I'm gonna chain and whip someone!) >.<

Saa! Too many possible ficcies to write! Not enough time to decide!