Moderator (highonwasabi) wrote in their_white_day,

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(FIC) (Fifteen.) for Trancekuja by Your Secret Admirer

For: trancekuja
By: eliminate
Title: (Fifteen.)
Pairing: Fuji/Tezuka
Rating: R
Summary: Tezuka never knows what to say to Fuji when they finish.
Warnings: AU, student/teacher, masturbation, light angst.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine, sadly. Also, snagged fifty words from this page @ Wiki.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who looked this over! ♥ Trancekuja, I really hope you enjoy reading this!


"Tezuka-kun, can you stay after class?"

Tezuka glares at his professor, but says nothing. He later nods and says, "Yes, sir," and then, "anything else?"

"No, that's all."



Tezuka goes home and straight to his room, locking the door and dropping his bag beside his futon.

"Kuso," he mumbles to himself. "Damn it."

He doesn't know how he is feeling, just a huge mix of confused, angry and turned on that he can't stop at all. He wants to scream at someone, maybe, or get into a fight.

He doesn't want to be laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying so so hard not to reach into his pants and pull himself off.

Tezuka turns around on his stomach and grinds into the mattress, each time cursing inside his head (and probably out loud, too, but he can't tell; all he can tell is that he needs to get off, and that he really shouldn't).

He comes in a haze of black light and a jolt that reaches him everywhere.

He has no clue what he's doing, no idea at all.


It's a photography class.

It isn't Tezuka's idea to enroll in it, either. His advisor assures him it'd be quite a good idea, that it'd Expand you're artistic side, really and Tezuka isn't one to say No to a senior.

However, he never imagines what could happen or how much one class might change him.


"I have something to confess to you, Kunimitsu-kun," says his professor, Fuji. Tezuka bristles at the use of his given name so casually, but says nothing.

Fuji smiles, so wide Tezuka can't see his eyes. It is creepy, Tezuka thinks, that someone could always appear so happy--so obviously fake.

Of course, Tezuka hides behind a visage of indifference bordering on impatience, so he can't blame Fuji, despite how much he wants to.

All he can do is nod and hope that the slight tinge of anxiety (--fear, even; he was much more than anxious--) won't show.


"You're allowed to say No," says Fuji once.

Tezuka gulps and looks down. Fuji is in between his legs and smiling again, but for a second Tezuka thinks he sees a sharp glance of blue. He leans further back against the desk and says, "No, no--I mean, yes," before closing his eyes and feeling the warmth surround him, first down there and then everywhere.


Tezuka is fifteen the first time he had sex.

It isn't intentional, rather a hasty dash made for a closet where two boys really have no clue what they're doing, just that it feels good.

Clothes were pulled off and thrown over the room, and some clothing stayed on.

Pushing, pulling and thrusting and they're finished and tired and messy.

Tezuka's fifteen, but he remembers it even now, when he's scared and not sure what to do.


(It always hurts so much the first time, but it also feels so absolutely amazing.

Tezuka doesn't know why--how, even--he agreed to this, with him of all people.

He has a pretty smile and vicious tongue, and Tezuka feels it all when Fuji thrusts into him, harder with each stroke.)

"More," Tezuka gasps into Fuji's mouth, feeling Fuji's grin curling around his tongue. "Please."

"Of course, Kunimitsu-kun."


He eventually sits down and thinks about it all.

About how wrong it is.

About what would happen if they were caught.

About how much he's changed.

About what his mother and father would say.

About how ashamed they would be.

About nothing at all, just how it feels.


Tezuka stays after every day now.

He doesn't bother making excuses when his parents ask why he's always home so late. His mother frowns and his father talks about how fast Tezuka's growing and things like marriage and children--things Tezuka hasn't thought of for a long time.

He doesn't bother correcting them, either.


Fuji talks in class on the history and development of pictures. About Louis Dagguerre and Nicéphore Niépce. The names roll off his tongue with an exotic sound and Tezuka stares at his lips, fascinated.

Later on in the evening Tezuka sits in his room and says the same names, the same words, trying to achieve the affect that Fuji has on him.

He realizes, much later, it isn't the word, but Fuji himself.


It's awkward sometimes.

Tezuka thinks Fuji expects him to know much more than he does.

Really, he doesn't know anything.

"It's okay," Fuji says. And:

"We can take it slow."

But Tezuka doesn't want to take it slow. He can't, he thinks. Not when his whole body is one fire and his heart is racing. It's too hard to take it slow when he feels like if he doesn't do it quickly he won't do it at all. He doesn't want to admit he's afraid (--it's not that he doesn't want to, even, it's that he can't; he won't). Tezuka curses and tries harder, sucks him in deeper and suppresses all his urges to gag and get off his knees and leave.


The duration of an exposure is referred to as shutter speed, often even in cameras that don't have a physical shutter, and is typically measured in fractions of a second. Aperture is expressed by an f-number or f-stop (derived from focal ratio), which is proportional to the ratio of the focal length to the diameter of the aperture. If the f-number is decreased, the aperture diameter is increased by the same factor, and its area is increased by a factor of 2. The f-stops that might be found on a typical lens include 2.8, 4, 5.6, 8, 11, 16, 22, 32, where going up "one stop" doubles the amount of light reaching the film, and stopping down one stop halves the amount of light.

Tezuka doesn't understand any of it, just a blur of numbers and facts that he reads and forgets moments later.

He wants to ask Fuji what it all means, but whenever he gets the courage to say it he can't because he means it for an entirely different reason.


Tezuka never knows what to say to Fuji when they finish.

A dozen words come to mind, but usually he leaves without saying anything at all.


"Tezuka-kun," says Fuji. "Would you leave if I said I loved you?"

His eyes are clear blue, like an ocean, Tezuka thinks before stuttering a quick good-bye and walking out of the room.


It's a photography class.

It wasn't Tezuka's idea to enroll in it, and when his advisor asks him why he dropped out Tezuka shrugs and doesn't reply.

There are other classes he can take; there is always something new he can learn.


Sometimes Tezuka goes back to that classroom, when he knows Fuji is there grading papers, or he just feels alone.

Tezuka doesn't talk and he's okay with that now.

Fuji sometimes does talk, but Tezuka is okay with that, too.

Sometimes he isn't sure why he's there, but right now Tezuka doesn't mind learning new things.

He doesn't mind it at all.)
Tags: fic, rated: r, tezuka/fuji
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