lovefujitez

Date Submitted: 10/ 07 /2008
Title: Under (his) Arrest
Characters: Tezuka/Fuji, prior Fuji/Atobe

Disclaimer:This Prince of Tennis fanfiction story is based on characters and settings developed by Takeshi Konomi and “Shonen Jump Weekly” magazine. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. Every character depicted within this fanfiction is above the legal age of consent, regardless of what age they are depicted in the original story. The depiction of illegal use of narcotics and law-breaking is not intended to advocate such behaviour.

A/N: Special thanks to my wonderful beta-reader and mentor 7veilsphaedra for your strict guidance and creative prodding which gave me a sense of focus and encouragement to continue my efforts in improving my writing skills.

Author: lovefujitez
Rating: PG 14
Theme: Theme Set A #7: Jail
Warnings: AU / Yaoi, brief description of sex, law-breaking, mention of drugs.
Word Count: 7,360 words.

Summary: Officer Tezuka, a Tokyo cop, and Fuji Syuusuke, Tokyo's top art director and a muse for one of Tokyo’s leading designers, connect within 48 hours of the most inopportune circumstances.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

“Wake up,” Tezuka planted a kiss on his lover’s silky hair. Fuji lay on top of him naked. His weight wasn’t unbearable, but the position Tezuka was locked in made him uncomfortable.

“Syuusuke.” Slowly, Tezuka wriggled his naked body to his side so he could shift Fuji to lie next to him in bed. Moving Fuji was not an easy task without the use of his hands which were still both handcuffed over his head. The burning pins and needles emanating from his blood-drained hands shot all the way down his arms. “Syuusuke, please! I need to get ready for work.”

Tezuka quirked a smile. He slowly rubbed his foot on Fuji’s leg, gently nudging the sleeping man in between his thighs. The warm contact caused his lover to whimper with need. His body arched to meet Tezuka’s intruding knee. The succulent lips he had ravished earlier that evening curved in an alluring smile. Slits of blue showed underneath thickly lashed eyelids.

“Kunimitsu,” Fuji cooed, looking at his hazel eyes, “aren’t you suppose to get ready for work?”

It was dark out and, normally, Tokyo residents would be fast asleep, but it was Tezuka’s week to cover the midnight shift at the station. The bedroom clock chimed to announce the tenth hour of the evening.

“You didn’t un-cuff me,” Tezuka chided playfully. “Could you please unlock me now?”

The artist smiled deviously, kissing Tezuka’s chest and slowly trailing kisses all the way to his neck before finally claiming his lips. Soft pliant lips nibbled on Fuji’s lower lip. The strokes of his tongue deepened and the game became even more enticing. Both men moaned into each other’s delicious seduction.

Tezuka caught a worried look in Fuji’s eyes which puzzled him momentarily. Was Fuji worried about his commitment? He wanted to erase whatever made his lover feel insecure, especially tonight.

But Fuji quickly read his thoughts and gave him a devious smile.

“How does it feel to be under arrest?” Fuji teased, gently shifting their bodies so he could lie over his lover once more.

“Like paradise,” Tezuka whispered, licking his lover’s neck before he zeroed in the sensitive spot on Fuji’s collarbone. There, he sucked hard to leave his mark. The artist who topped him whimpered and then gasped loudly. The sound Fuji made was so erotic to Tezuka, it drove him crazy, made him feel even more passionate.

“Maybe I should keep you this way for the rest of the night.” Fuji nibbled on his lover’s ear before he trailed soft kisses all the way down his neck. His warm hands caressed the toned arms which were still locked together by the metal bracelets.

“Ahh, but Tokyo would not be safe tonight if you keep me here.” Tezuka arched his lower body to rub indelicately against his lover.

Fuji pressed his body closer with a sensual purr. “But I would be, and that’s all that matters.”

Tezuka groaned despite his uncomfortable disposition he enjoyed his lover’s ministrations, “I couldn’t protect you, remember? I’m under arrest.”

“You mean paradise,” Fuji claimed his lips once more. “You’re under paradise.”

He kissed him passionately as he unlocked the steel cuffs.

“That, too.” Tezuka replied. Finally freed, he locked Fuji in a tight embrace and gave him the just desserts he’d truly enjoy.

The hour passed, Tezuka was finally dressed in his blue uniform, checking to make sure all his tools and gadgets were securely fastened on his belt. One rear pocket was empty. He turned towards Fuji who was leaning by the entrance to their bedroom, playfully twirling the missing item.

“Where’s the key?” Tezuka asked.

“Looking for this?” The artist dangled the steel handcuff in mid-air.

He wondered why Fuji preferred using those when, upon discovering his lover’s fondness for role-playing in bed, he had bought him a set of his own. At first, Tezuka thought Fuji was too kinky for his taste, but after a taste of the petit man’s sensuality, how could he have ever thought of saying no? He did fall in love with an artist after all, one with such creativity and imagination when it came to satisfying him in bed, that Tezuka became equally experimental, debauched and astute as a sexual partner.

Fuji slowly swaggered towards him, handcuff in one hand, key in the other. The taller man wrapped his arms around him.

“You don’t play fair,” Tezuka complained. A hint of smile played across his lips. “But I enjoyed being your captive for forty-eight hours. Happy Anniversary, Syuusuke!”

“Two years, Kunimitsu!” Fuji declared proudly, kissing Tezuka’s lips before handing over his handcuffs and key.

“I have something for you, but I have to leave for work.” Tezuka kissed Fuji back. “Call me and let me know what you think, okay?”

“What? Tell me!”

“You’ll know when you find your present.” Tezuka grinned. “It’s in a special room.”

Tezuka didn’t have the time to explain further. He dashed out of their apartment in one of the more expensive high rises in Roppongi Hills. While he waited for the elevator to take him to the parking lot, he saw his image on the mirror wall and straightened his uniform and hat.

Two years. Tezuka sighed happily.

He wanted to be with Fuji when he opened his gift. He stared at his image on the mirror once more and thought, It’s my anniversary. What am I doing?

His musing was interrupted when a bell resonated, filling the empty hall before the double doors finally opened. Tezuka stood in front of the elevator, as he fished out a small velvet blue box from his pocket.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

It was midnight.

He didn’t mind working the graveyard shift. Tezuka’s body clock had adjusted to this reversed schedule after the third night of working this shift. It had been seven months since he completed his training, and now he was one of the rookies assigned to the station nearest Tokyo University. Although the station was situated in a high risk area, Tezuka’s current work detail mostly involved processing of paperwork for arrests and investigations.

Once a week, he would accompany another officer and his K-9 partner for a drive around the university and the nearby community where Tezuka’s parents lived. The two-hour routine surveillance around the streets of Tokyo University and its outer perimeter usually resulted in a few speeding tickets and citizens being locked up for driving under the influence. Once in a blue moon, they had a routine stop that would lead to a drug arrest. This evening’s stop happened to be one of those kinds.

Fuji checked the time. The bright green numbers looked blurry, and so was the road ahead of him. He had far too much alcohol in him, yet here he was, behind the wheel, driving recklessly. It was very late, and he needed to get to the airport to catch his flight to Hokkaido.

Of all places! He muttered to himself, very much annoyed by the unexpected assignment texted to him no less than by his demanding boss and occasional bed partner, Atobe Keigo.

Atobe, himself, was in Hokkaido, most likely well-rested in his top floor suite in one of the most expensive hotels. Fuji had no idea why the haughty designer needed to summon him in the middle of a party to take a jumper flight, in this condition.

When he called Atobe to inform him he could take a flight out the next morning, only to be told of the reservations for a flight leaving from Haneda Airport at 1:30 am, Fuji lost it. He had nothing but gutter words and, in his inebriated state, really didn’t care whether he had a job left the next day.

But Atobe knew well, and so did Fuji, that they were the best in Tokyo. Top designer merchandise chains sought Keigo’s haute couture. This was why the Atobe line was famous all over Japan and the world. Fuji was his jewel, the precious eye and genius that made Atobe Designs flourish.

The drama of Atobe’s fashion statements, which showed in his designs and creations, was largely Fuji’s doing. He had the eye for effect and his photographs showed it all. Not only was Fuji the art director and photographer, he was also Atobe’s creative muse, the one person in this world who could spark fresh ideas for his creations. He was mostly responsible for making Atobe as successful as he was. Atobe’s relationship with his muse, however, was chaotic.

With both of them having such creative temperaments, they constantly clashed. Their relationship was tormented and exhausting. Sometimes, it came across like a form of hatred. Each denied being in love with the other, in fact constantly reminded the other of it, as though post-it notes were pasted in their forehead to proclaim the fact. Yet, they often had sex, and there was passion in that sex which was feral, animalistic in its rawness. They drove each other to distraction. They felt frustration and disappointment. They wanted to conquer each other, to force each other into submission. Their sex was like their relationship, volatile and twisted, but once they reached climax, both men were drained of enmity. They allowed themselves a moment of solace and warmth while still embraced in each other’s arms, their rancor, bitterness and despair silenced by physical exhaustion.

Fuji drove Atobe’s precious red Lambourghini Diablo like a demon rider freed from the depths of hell. He checked the time once more. He had a half-hour before his flight left, and was just cutting through the University belt. He figured it would take another ten minutes, five if he could race the hell out of Atobe’s toy and scare the other drivers out of his way.

He smiled. He was already making plans for how he would make Atobe suffer when he arrived in Hokkaido. That would be in about two hours. He would make the peacock pay.

The intoxicated artist was so busy cutting through traffic and zigzagging lanes, he didn’t notice the red and blue lights trailing behind him, but the source of the whirling lights had caught up and was now directly behind him. He heard the low buzz of the siren and the flashing lights glared with a brightness his unfocused eyes couldn’t handle. He thought of gunning the pedal to test the speed of the Diablo but, after seeing the traffic ahead of him, decided to pull over at the service lane instead.

Damn, I almost made it! Fuji thought with annoyance. He watched one of the officers approach, while the other stayed behind the wheel.

Smart, Fuji figured. Even if he attempted to drive away now, he would still get caught eventually.

The officer tapped on the window. Fuji lowered the glass panel and eyed the officer. He was tall with a lithe frame, not like the usual bulky and muscular type of policemen he normally saw. He figured this cop was a rookie, fresh from the police academy: good-looking face, rimless glasses, his hair sort of disheveled underneath the hat. All in all, Fuji enjoyed the view, despite his difficulty in focusing.

He gave the young officer an innocent smile, his cerulean eyes showing underneath half-lids.

“Is something the matter, officer?” he asked innocently.

The officer peered at him askance and showed nothing but disapproval.

“License and registration please,” the officer said.

Fuji handed over his license and searched the console for the car registration, but couldn’t find the document. He didn’t know where else to search, so he opened whatever tray or hidden pockets he could open. The middle console opened and to his surprise, he uncovered several sealed bags of marijuana and pills. Even in his blurred state, he immediately realized what he found and tried to bury it under other items hidden in the tray. The officer however noticed Fuji’s agitation and the contraband being hidden from view.

“Kindly step out of the car, Fuji-san,” the officer ordered.

Fuji did as he was ordered, with some discomfort. The low seat of the sports car didn’t help him with his balance. As soon as his weight was transferred on both his feet, he felt as though everything had spun around, and he tipped towards the officer before him. Tezuka didn’t so much as move when Fuji rested both his palms on his chest. His eyes stayed focused on the man before him, and he waited for a glimpse of the blue eyes he had seen in the license photo. A slight glint of blue appeared when Fuji looked up to check the officer’s reaction. He noticed stern lips and hazel-brown eyes behind rimless glasses. Then he smiled and pressed his body even closer before finally leaning back towards the Lambourghini. It was his own attempt to keep his focus from straying.

“I’m so sorry I’m not use to getting out of my boss’ car.” Fuji casually flipped his hair to the side.

Tezuka almost wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of the rancid smell from Fuji’s breath.

“You appear to be drunk Fuji-san and driving recklessly. You were speeding and changing lanes without due care for the other drivers on the road.” Officer Tezuka signaled a request over his radio for the other officer’s presence and the K-9 as well.

“Fuji-san, have you consumed any alcohol this evening?”

Fuji’s annoyance was increasing. The answer was too obvious and, in his drunken state, didn’t make sense at all.

“You already said I looked drunk.” Fuji pouted.

“Just answer the question Fuji-san,” Tezuka sternly demanded. His eyes turned cold. “Did you consume any alcohol this evening?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Fuji glared at the officer. His eyes were tired from trying to focus. “I was at a party when my boss called. I was trying to get to the airport to catch a flight to Hokkaido.”

The K-9 approached together with the other officer. Fuji noticed the dog and smiled. He tried to reach over and pat the dog’s head when Tezuka suddenly grabbed his wrist and prevented him. Fuji turned to look at Tezuka.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you. This canine officer is only here to check your car. Police dogs are not friendly like pets.” Tezuka warned the petite man. The harsh look, however, had softened.

“Do you have any contraband in the car?” Tezuka asked. “Will you allow the canine officer to check your car for drugs?”

Fuji’s stare didn’t leave Tezuka’s face. The deep blues seemed to deepen in color, indicating an increasing level of fear and anger. Fuji was worried about the bags he had discovered. They were not his; he didn’t abuse drugs, but now that he was about to be apprehended for them, he tried to weigh the situation carefully before he responded---despite the fact that he really didn’t have any options, and couldn’t see any feasible way to get out of this dilemma.

The best thing would be to remain silent and wait for Atobe’s legal advisor to handle things, but he knew very well that would only prolong the legal process. Fuji’s calendar was too busy with the spring fashion line in the works. He did not want to idle his time in jail to wait for all the impending battles to go away.

He reverted attention back to the good-looking officer who had questioned him. It was annoying that he enjoyed this officer’s closeness, given how much he disliked the man’s overbearing attitude and stern looks. At the same time, he couldn’t tame his thoughts. He wanted to pounce on the cop. Instead, he closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. He decided to take the chance and tell the officer of his discovery.

“There’s not need for the police dog to check the vehicle. I found some bags of pot and some pills in the arm-console while I was searching for the registration of the car. They aren’t mine, officer.” He glanced at the name on the officer’s chest pocket to get the name. “Tezuka-san, I don’t do drugs. I was at a party this evening and had too much to drink, that’s all.”

Tezuka was no pushover. He could tell when he was being led on, but despite his inebriated state, the tiny man appeared to be telling the truth.

“Oshtari-san, check the middle console please.”

The other officer opened the car from the passenger side. The K-9 didn’t take time to search, but instantly zeroed in the middle console. The other officer opened the receptacle with gloved hands and retrieved ten dime bags of pot and five other small plastic bags of pills.

“Will you take a breathalyzer test, Fuji-san?” the tall officer asked.

Fuji knew it was all procedure. Since it was obvious he was drunk, they needed to show exactly how drunk he was.

“I have no choice, do I?” he slurred.

“You have the right to refuse. You have the right to remain silent, any information you freely divulge could be used against you in court. You have the right to seek representation--”

“I am aware of my rights, Officer,” Fuji cut off Tezuka right in the middle of his narration.

The officer remained silent after Fuji’s rude interjection and observed the upset man cautiously for possible manifestation of violent behavior. Fuji met the officer’s gaze and kept his eye on him, aware that the latter was studying him. His only defense of his honor was to stand his ground and let the officer be aware that he was not some kind of anti-social human, despite his current demeanor.

“Fuji-san, will you submit to a breathalyzer test?” Tezuka asked once more.

“Yes.”

For the next hour, Fuji quietly submitted to whatever tests and inspections the officers had to do. He was exhausted and had begun to feel sick to his stomach. He expected it, knowing the amount of alcohol he had consumed during the past three hours was way beyond what his body could handle. The breathalyzer registered three times beyond the legal amount.

Tezuka issued tickets for his charges – driving under the influence, drug possession, speeding, reckless driving, and driving without proper registration and insurance.

After Tezuka handed him the duplicate copy of the printed tickets, Fuji was placed under arrest.

He was ordered to stand facing the Lambourghini and did as he was told. Tezuka patted down his body for items from his person before he was handcuffed, led to the backseat of the police car and placed under custody.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Link to: Part 2

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