My first posted Tezuka/Fuji fic. A birthday drabble for everyone's favorite tensai!
Title: Un-Birthday Present
Summary: Tezuka doesn't have a birthday present for Fuji...
Author's Note: This story completely disregards the actual TeniPuri storyline.
Un-beta'd, since I just whipped up this little drabble for Fujiko's (un)birthday.
“Tezuka-buchou, don’t you have a birthday present for Fujiko, nya?” The question was asked quite innocently by one Kikumaru Eiji, who apparently was fully expecting a positive answer from the stoic Seigaku captain.
“No, I don’t.” The acrobatic redhead was not the only one who looked surprised by that flat, toneless statement. He was, however, the only one who actually gasped in horror.
“But buchou!” Eiji cried, jumping in place to show his agitation. “You like Fujiko, don’t you? Why not, nya?”
The rest of the Seigaku regulars were all present for the tensai’s impromptu birthday party in the clubroom, and they all sat waiting expectantly for their captain’s answer. Inui leaned forward and poised his pen above his notebook, ready to record whatever happened. Momo looked quickly back and forth between Tezuka and Fuji and poked Echizen to make him pay attention. Oishi, Kawamura, and Kaidoh were all looking distinctly uncomfortable but said nothing. And Fuji Syusuke, the birthday boy himself, just smiled silently, seemingly unconcerned.
Tezuka didn’t make any of them wait long for his reply. “Because it isn’t his birthday,” he said calmly, packing his tennis equipment as he spoke.
Eiji looked completely and utterly shocked and exclaimed, “Nya-aa, that’s not nice, buchou!”
Oishi looked distinctly alarmed, given that Eiji was about to get himself in trouble. Fortunately, Fuji interrupted whatever else Eiji was going to say. “Well, it’s true,” the tensai said, still smiling. “It isn’t really my birthday.”
“But it’s not fair if you only get a birthday every four years, Fujiko! Nya!” Eiji protested stubbornly.
“It’s all right if Tezuka doesn’t have a present for me, though,” Fuji assured him. “I got lovely presents from all of you.” It was true; Fuji had gotten a pitcher of the newest version of Inui Juice (from Inui, obviously), his favorite wasabi sushi (courtesy of Taka) an insanely glittering, brightly colored pair of shoelaces (Momo’s idea being that anything weird was good for Fuji-senpai), and wasabi-flavored toothpaste (from Eiji himself, found goodness-knew-where), among other things.
“And,” Fuji added, a faint glimmer of mischief passing over his features, “it would actually be fine if I didn’t get any presents at all.”
Eiji somehow managed to open his eyes even wider, looking as though Fuji had just said how pleasant it would be to be struck by lightning. “Nya! Fuji-”
This time it was Tezuka who interrupted. “I didn’t say that I don’t have a present for Fuji.” He continued before Eiji could burst in, “I said I don’t have a birthday present for him.”
Eiji apparently dismissed this statement as completely silly. He laughed and rolled his eyes, jumping up and down again. “Then you have to give it to him, buchou! It’s Fujiko’s birthday and he needs a present!”
“I was going to give it to him later,” Tezuka said coolly, zipping up the tennis bag and standing up with it over his shoulder.
Oishi stood too, either to leave or to stop Eiji from taking it further. Fuji spoke again, though, making everybody stop. He opened his eyes and they glittered in a way that was vaguely disturbing. Everyone except Eiji and Tezuka froze in place and Oishi sat back down in a hurry. “Ne, Kunimitsu, I think Eiji wants to see my gift.”
“Hoi hoi!” Eiji said enthusiastically.
“Hm,” Tezuka said, his eyes shifting to the tensai. “Do you want your un-birthday present now, Syusuke?”
“Certainly,” Fuji agreed with a more-than-vaguely disturbing grin. Those present who had not missed the fact that the two were calling each other by their first names watched with a kind of morbid curiosity bordering on outright fear. Oishi actually took Eiji by the sleeve and pulled him back toward him as Tezuka walked toward Fuji. Eiji was apparently satisfied that Fuji would be receiving a present from buchou and sat down next to Oishi with no complaint.
Tezuka almost sedately set his tennis bag on the floor and in one swift motion pulled Fuji close, one hand on the tensai’s hip and the other on his shoulder. He bent down and kissed Fuji gently, and Fuji kissed back, his own arms going around the captain. In the time it took everyone’s jaws to drop, the kiss became less gentle, turning into an open-mouthed, obviously hungry embrace.
All the regulars looked to be in a state of shock, except for Inui, who was alternating between scribbling busily in his notebook and watching avidly, and Echizen, who looked bored. Oishi looked as though he was trying to say something, but his mind didn’t seem to be able to think of anything coherent. Fuji let out a sigh that was almost a moan as Tezuka’s hand slid from his hip to somewhere under his shirt.
Suddenly there was a loud “bang!” that echoed through the almost-silent clubroom, and everyone jumped about ten feet into the air. It was the sound of Kaidoh dropping his tennis racket; apparently the shock had been too much for the mamushi, who was blushing a color close to crimson. Kaidoh hissed once and then subsided, leaving an uneasy silence.
Tezuka and Fuji were still in each other’s arms, but mercifully had ceased what they were doing. Fuji looked absolutely amused and Tezuka looked quite unfazed by the whole thing. Some of the other regulars were wondering exactly what Fuji’s gift would have been if they hadn’t been watching.
It was Eiji who broke the silence by saying, “Nya, buchou, that was a good present!” which unaccountably made Oishi turn bright red. “Why isn’t it a birthday present?”
Fuji smiled as Tezuka stated, “If it’s an un-birthday present, I can give it to him every day.”