Disclaimer: ... So okay, I'm in class right now, and lying is against academic policy and. Well. (Of course I own them! Right. Yes. Oh shut up I know I'm not funny go away D:)
Author's Note: Originally posted on Livejournal. Also, written during an AP Chemistry practice test, so I take no responsibility for how retarded it is. Yesss.
Pairings/Characters: Main focus on Saeki + Fuji gen, with heavy Tezuka/Fuji... ness.
Infection
The day after, Fuji steps off the subway at Chiba at half-past three in the morning and calls Saeki's apartment.
Saeki jogs to the front of the station, sweatpants on backwards. "You coming?" Saeki asks, giving him an appraising stare. Fuji hadn't bothered to bring anything along; decked out in a loose T-shirt and cargo shorts; it was fairly obvious that he had no real idea what he was doing.
"Sure," Fuji says.
They sit by a lake, Fuji absorbing the air while Saeki bounces pebbles off the water.
"Hey," Saeki ventures, "Earth to the pretty boy."
Fuji glares at him out of one red eye.
"You going to talk about it anytime soon?"
"Sure," Fuji says again. "It's a long story. Sit." He pats the ground next to him.
Saeki plops down and lands on a beetle.
"You're kidding."
"No," Fuji says, heaving a dejected sigh.
"No. You have got to be shitting me."
"Not in the slightest," Fuji replies, watching the silhouette of his hand move against the sun.
"You're hiding from him," Saeki says, amazed, "because you have an eye infection?"
"No," Fuji says, then pauses. "Well, yes."
"No, no, wait," Saeki says, now thoroughly amused, "Start from the beginning again. You're avoiding Tezuka because of -- what now?"
Fuji smiles.
"So, okay, let me get this straight," Saeki manages between snorts of deranged laughter, "infections are a perfectly acceptable reason to spontaneously hop onto a train in the middle of the night and flee from your boyfriend, what he thinks be damned?"
Fuji eyes him darkly. "Some infections would make that a necessity." He leans back. "I'm just practicing."
Saeki chuckles. "Always helps to be prepared, huh? I almost feel sorry for the guy."
Fuji grins and checks his watch. "It's seven. I wonder if he's noticed by now."
Saeki shakes his head. "I could've sworn you two'd broken up or something."
Fuji peers at him out of a solitary blue eye. "Wouldn't. Tezuka doesn't let things break."
As soon as he finishes speaking, Saeki's cell phone starts playing Chopin's Funeral March.
"Speak of the devil." Saeki yanks the singing silver thing (it looks more like a castrated toaster than a phone, Fuji thinks) out of his pocket.
"Mine," Fuji says cheerfully, and catches the phone.
"Hello, Tezuka," Fuji says at the dark mass of fury lurking by the kitchen door. "Did you know," he says, as the shadow gets closer, "That Saeki has a custom ringtone for our apa--"
Tezuka pries Fuji's hand open, places eye medication into his palm, and stares closely at Fuji before wrapping him in an awkward one-armed hug.
"--artment," Fuji manages, arms hanging uselessly from his shoulders.
The bottle drops to the floor.
End.