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Entry tags:
PoT Fic (old): Neptune (Mizuki/Yuuta, Yuuta/Shuusuke)
Title: Neptune
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Mizuki/Yuuta/Fuji
Rating: R
Warning: Incestuous content.
Yuuta had left the court that evening with the distinct feeling that his life had, not for the first time, completely changed.
Perhaps in hindsight, going to see his brother, of all people, had not been the best idea.
As with all the least desirable choices, though, it was essential. Yuuta hadn't liked the look in Fuji's eyes one bit; not the way they'd sliced ice-blue down onto Mizuki's head like some biblical scene brought to life. The devil in the desert; black curls and snake-whispers but Fuji Shuusuke, at least, would not be tempted. Not the way Yuuta had been. Fuji always had more sense. Fuji always had more of everything, come to think of it, and how had Yuuta been so stupid, come to think of that? Simple, he supposed. Yuuta was more easily tempted because his wishes were far easier to fulfil. He was a happy whore to anybody that'd call his own name rather than his brother's and he supposed that it had made him ripe prey for a pimp. Mizuki, of course, was the flashiest thereof - he probably had the cane in his wardrobe. Shuusuke desired things less easily crafted in the open palm - the abstract, the unreal, the philsophical. Had the devil been faced with Fuji in the desert, he'd had to have really wracked his wicked brain for something to offer the oldest Fuji brother. After thirteen unlucky years, Yuuta still couldn't figure out what that could be.
Anyway, wasn't the younger brother supposed to tail the older around?
Why had Fuji snatched away his first chance of freedom? That first crossroad, where the wooden signpost could have been scrawled 'Yuuta' and not 'younger brother'? Yuuta's pen had been all but itching, etching the first 'Y' when brother's bright blue eyes had blinked him back to sense; showed him the weeds that clawed the ground and the thorns that had worn the wood down. Shuusuke had thrown a hand down the path Yuuta had trekked and shown it to him for what it was; the route directly into hell. He had had his chance to walk alone and he had wasted it on a stupid map, a stupid Mizuki. Stupid bastard Mizuki bringing his brother back into it; what brother wouldn't have pummelled Mizuki, after all? What brother wouldn't have taken pleasure in the act? And why, for God's sake, had Mizuki not thought about that beforehand? Yuuta had told him before, on nights where lips might have met had the mood been just a little more pliant, that all he wanted was to be away from his brother. He wanted ambition so separate that he would fly solo and forget those blue eyes that had fostered such love in his young self. He wanted to tread the clouds himself and not see the footprints in the sky before him. As Mizuki had so artfully put it, his own blue eyes twinkling over Yuuta's relaxed form as if a hungry cat. Yuuta had merely shrugged.
I just want to be out of his life.
It wasn't as though Shuusuke had done anything wrong, but then, that was entirely the point. Yuuta had made all the mistakes in the family and it showed, painfully, in the score cards of their lives. It was as though Shuusuke had been fashioned in clay and with the leftovers, his weary father and mother had formed Yuuta; clumsy hands tripping over lumps and bumps and flattening them with rough palms. Shuusuke had always drawn the better pictures, made the perfect pots. Yuuta had scribbled on the wall in revenge. Shuusuke had mastered walking a whole three months before Yuuta came to do it. Yuuta could remember kicking things a lot, once he was mobile. And the worst of the lot; Shuusuke had had the decency to apologise for every accomplishment he'd ever made, every victory he'd ever won, every success that had ever graced his even brow. He would turn it all in, he had said, on the doorstep the night Yuuta left.
For my brother back.
You'll get used to it.
I won't.
---
He hadn't, Yuuta knew. He'd only gotten worse. Every moment that he could capture his younger brother within and warm him between his palms, he took with gleeful innocence. Mizuki might have been let off lightly, had Shuusuke known that Yuuta would be coming home that night. As it was, with the victim returning to the dorms after his match against Ryoma, Shuusuke had flipped out. He had never liked Mizuki for giving Yuuta a reason to leave, and that he had tossed away a gift so precious and unavailable to Shuusuke made everything a world of Unacceptable. Yuuta had left for black curls and a calculating mind; an ambition so pointed that it would send him to the sky in rocketfire. In Shuusuke's mind, curls were torn to the floor and the sharp mind blunted itself upon resisting glass; a surface unyielding to any pressure, stoic and inflexible. Cold. Glass shards gleamed in eyes that were at last, true. Shuusuke's splintering gaze had transferred to Yuuta and then he had known, seen at last, that Fuji was mere broken glass. Only for Yuuta was he complete; only in defence of his youngest kin could emotion pour outward. Water alone could combat glass, forcing its own escape like a stubborn waterfall. Shuusuke had become solid glass when his brother had left. Glass that on the eve of Mizuki's betrayal shattered; rang out on the moment that he could claim his brother for his own once more. Shuusuke Fuji had glass in his eyes. Yuuta Fuji saw it running down his face later in blue-white prisms when he'd asked,
Why have you become half a person?
I wanted to give you part of me to take with you.
I wanted to leave you behind.
When we were much younger, I opened my arms before you to protect you from the older children. I wanted to do that, always.
You couldn't without me there, you idiot.
I tried, all the same.
You have to let me protect myself.
How can I?
---
He'd always made it so simple for Yuuta; created an art out of sacrifice for his younger brother's happiness. Each of those beautiful pots and those colourful child-paintings had been hidden in the cupboard so that his mother had to find them before she could show them off. Shuusuke had spent tireless afternoons stumbling over infant feet, wrenching Yuuta to his feet with an insistant "again! Again!" in the hope that this time, he would walk. Shuusuke had always wanted to have a brother to fly with. He'd wanted to show Yuuta the clouds, dust away the sky for him so that when he arrived, everything would look perfect. He had never wanted Yuuta to suffer. Only Yuuta had taken away that choice, left him abandoned in the stars and gone about discovering his own planet. And walked straight into Mars without knowing it. Shuusuke stood in the doorway of their home as Yuuta had ambled towards it that night, eyes surprised at Yuuta's arrival onto the cooler shores of Neptune.
"You didn't tell me you were coming home tonight." I thought you'd want to go with Mizuki-san.
"I want you to forgive him." Please accept my right to make the mistakes that you'd know to avoid.
"Do you forgive him?" Why won't you let me take care of you?
"Yes. He allowed me to get hurt."
"Is it all my fault?"
"Yes. But we'll get to that later. Get me a cup of tea and we'll take it from there."
"Are you coming home after all this, Yuuta?"
"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't start that again." Can you love me a little less?
"If you'd rather I didn't." No. But if you let me show it more, I can try.
Yuuta walked in through the open door and Shuusuke closed it against the world for one more precious time.
---
A week later, Yuuta had had to hold his own hand over Shuusuke and Mizuki's clasped palms. Even then, he couldn't be sure that his brother wasn't digging his talons on. One glance at Mizuki's poker face told him nothing, but then it always had done that. Shuusuke's face was similarly plain; emotion only writ large for Yuuta's curious eyes. Yuuta had told him then, on that night a week ago, that all he wanted was to be away from his manager. He wanted ambition so safe that he could fly solo and forget those blue eyes that had fostered such recklessness in his young self. He wanted to tread the clouds himself and not seen the drops to the world below him. As Fuji had so artfully put it, his own blue eyes twinkling over Yuuta's relaxed form as if a satisfied cat. Yuuta had merely looked up, hoping.
I need you to be a part of my life.
Yuuta couldn't help but think it ironic that there, in the quiet of Shuusuke's bedroom; lips might have met had the morals been just a little less pressing.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Mizuki/Yuuta/Fuji
Rating: R
Warning: Incestuous content.
Yuuta had left the court that evening with the distinct feeling that his life had, not for the first time, completely changed.
Perhaps in hindsight, going to see his brother, of all people, had not been the best idea.
As with all the least desirable choices, though, it was essential. Yuuta hadn't liked the look in Fuji's eyes one bit; not the way they'd sliced ice-blue down onto Mizuki's head like some biblical scene brought to life. The devil in the desert; black curls and snake-whispers but Fuji Shuusuke, at least, would not be tempted. Not the way Yuuta had been. Fuji always had more sense. Fuji always had more of everything, come to think of it, and how had Yuuta been so stupid, come to think of that? Simple, he supposed. Yuuta was more easily tempted because his wishes were far easier to fulfil. He was a happy whore to anybody that'd call his own name rather than his brother's and he supposed that it had made him ripe prey for a pimp. Mizuki, of course, was the flashiest thereof - he probably had the cane in his wardrobe. Shuusuke desired things less easily crafted in the open palm - the abstract, the unreal, the philsophical. Had the devil been faced with Fuji in the desert, he'd had to have really wracked his wicked brain for something to offer the oldest Fuji brother. After thirteen unlucky years, Yuuta still couldn't figure out what that could be.
Anyway, wasn't the younger brother supposed to tail the older around?
Why had Fuji snatched away his first chance of freedom? That first crossroad, where the wooden signpost could have been scrawled 'Yuuta' and not 'younger brother'? Yuuta's pen had been all but itching, etching the first 'Y' when brother's bright blue eyes had blinked him back to sense; showed him the weeds that clawed the ground and the thorns that had worn the wood down. Shuusuke had thrown a hand down the path Yuuta had trekked and shown it to him for what it was; the route directly into hell. He had had his chance to walk alone and he had wasted it on a stupid map, a stupid Mizuki. Stupid bastard Mizuki bringing his brother back into it; what brother wouldn't have pummelled Mizuki, after all? What brother wouldn't have taken pleasure in the act? And why, for God's sake, had Mizuki not thought about that beforehand? Yuuta had told him before, on nights where lips might have met had the mood been just a little more pliant, that all he wanted was to be away from his brother. He wanted ambition so separate that he would fly solo and forget those blue eyes that had fostered such love in his young self. He wanted to tread the clouds himself and not see the footprints in the sky before him. As Mizuki had so artfully put it, his own blue eyes twinkling over Yuuta's relaxed form as if a hungry cat. Yuuta had merely shrugged.
I just want to be out of his life.
It wasn't as though Shuusuke had done anything wrong, but then, that was entirely the point. Yuuta had made all the mistakes in the family and it showed, painfully, in the score cards of their lives. It was as though Shuusuke had been fashioned in clay and with the leftovers, his weary father and mother had formed Yuuta; clumsy hands tripping over lumps and bumps and flattening them with rough palms. Shuusuke had always drawn the better pictures, made the perfect pots. Yuuta had scribbled on the wall in revenge. Shuusuke had mastered walking a whole three months before Yuuta came to do it. Yuuta could remember kicking things a lot, once he was mobile. And the worst of the lot; Shuusuke had had the decency to apologise for every accomplishment he'd ever made, every victory he'd ever won, every success that had ever graced his even brow. He would turn it all in, he had said, on the doorstep the night Yuuta left.
For my brother back.
You'll get used to it.
I won't.
---
He hadn't, Yuuta knew. He'd only gotten worse. Every moment that he could capture his younger brother within and warm him between his palms, he took with gleeful innocence. Mizuki might have been let off lightly, had Shuusuke known that Yuuta would be coming home that night. As it was, with the victim returning to the dorms after his match against Ryoma, Shuusuke had flipped out. He had never liked Mizuki for giving Yuuta a reason to leave, and that he had tossed away a gift so precious and unavailable to Shuusuke made everything a world of Unacceptable. Yuuta had left for black curls and a calculating mind; an ambition so pointed that it would send him to the sky in rocketfire. In Shuusuke's mind, curls were torn to the floor and the sharp mind blunted itself upon resisting glass; a surface unyielding to any pressure, stoic and inflexible. Cold. Glass shards gleamed in eyes that were at last, true. Shuusuke's splintering gaze had transferred to Yuuta and then he had known, seen at last, that Fuji was mere broken glass. Only for Yuuta was he complete; only in defence of his youngest kin could emotion pour outward. Water alone could combat glass, forcing its own escape like a stubborn waterfall. Shuusuke had become solid glass when his brother had left. Glass that on the eve of Mizuki's betrayal shattered; rang out on the moment that he could claim his brother for his own once more. Shuusuke Fuji had glass in his eyes. Yuuta Fuji saw it running down his face later in blue-white prisms when he'd asked,
Why have you become half a person?
I wanted to give you part of me to take with you.
I wanted to leave you behind.
When we were much younger, I opened my arms before you to protect you from the older children. I wanted to do that, always.
You couldn't without me there, you idiot.
I tried, all the same.
You have to let me protect myself.
How can I?
---
He'd always made it so simple for Yuuta; created an art out of sacrifice for his younger brother's happiness. Each of those beautiful pots and those colourful child-paintings had been hidden in the cupboard so that his mother had to find them before she could show them off. Shuusuke had spent tireless afternoons stumbling over infant feet, wrenching Yuuta to his feet with an insistant "again! Again!" in the hope that this time, he would walk. Shuusuke had always wanted to have a brother to fly with. He'd wanted to show Yuuta the clouds, dust away the sky for him so that when he arrived, everything would look perfect. He had never wanted Yuuta to suffer. Only Yuuta had taken away that choice, left him abandoned in the stars and gone about discovering his own planet. And walked straight into Mars without knowing it. Shuusuke stood in the doorway of their home as Yuuta had ambled towards it that night, eyes surprised at Yuuta's arrival onto the cooler shores of Neptune.
"You didn't tell me you were coming home tonight." I thought you'd want to go with Mizuki-san.
"I want you to forgive him." Please accept my right to make the mistakes that you'd know to avoid.
"Do you forgive him?" Why won't you let me take care of you?
"Yes. He allowed me to get hurt."
"Is it all my fault?"
"Yes. But we'll get to that later. Get me a cup of tea and we'll take it from there."
"Are you coming home after all this, Yuuta?"
"No. No, I'm not. Please, don't start that again." Can you love me a little less?
"If you'd rather I didn't." No. But if you let me show it more, I can try.
Yuuta walked in through the open door and Shuusuke closed it against the world for one more precious time.
---
A week later, Yuuta had had to hold his own hand over Shuusuke and Mizuki's clasped palms. Even then, he couldn't be sure that his brother wasn't digging his talons on. One glance at Mizuki's poker face told him nothing, but then it always had done that. Shuusuke's face was similarly plain; emotion only writ large for Yuuta's curious eyes. Yuuta had told him then, on that night a week ago, that all he wanted was to be away from his manager. He wanted ambition so safe that he could fly solo and forget those blue eyes that had fostered such recklessness in his young self. He wanted to tread the clouds himself and not seen the drops to the world below him. As Fuji had so artfully put it, his own blue eyes twinkling over Yuuta's relaxed form as if a satisfied cat. Yuuta had merely looked up, hoping.
I need you to be a part of my life.
Yuuta couldn't help but think it ironic that there, in the quiet of Shuusuke's bedroom; lips might have met had the morals been just a little less pressing.