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Title: Under The Tree
Fandom: Tenipuri
Character/Pairing: TezukaFuji
Summary: Fuji had an odd habit of appropriating holidays.
Rating: PG-13-ish.
A/N:
ketchupblood, again because she needed something under her tree!
Bacchanalia is a gathering of orgiastic sex and drinking, as named after the festival for Bacchus/Dionysus of Grecian lore. Saturnalia was a festival honoring Saturn that involved many of the traditions we find at Christmas today, such as gift-giving. Check Wiki for more.
--
Fuji had an odd habit of appropriating holidays. Two years ago Fuji had celebrated eight days of Hanukkah even though Tezuka had tried quite reasonably to point out that they weren’t Jewish.
From Kwanzaa to Winter Solstice, Fuji picked up any weird, strange or foreign traditions he could find (though Tezuka did have to admit that their Bacchanalia for two at Saturnalia was a night to remember.)
“What are you celebrating this time?” Tezuka said
“Christmas, I’ve got a present for you under the tree,” Fuji said in his most seductive voice (which was in essence, his default voice. Fuji could make reading a phone book sound orgiastic)
“Also, you might want to return quickly, it’s rather cold down here and I have pine needles sticking into my derriere,” Fuji added.
When Tezuka returned to their apartment he found a medium-sized artificial tree decked in lights and golden tinsel. In the glow of this lights was Fuji. He wore nothing but a red velvet bow tied tastefully over his waist.
“Merry Christmas, Tezuka.”
Tezuka thought he could learn to appreciate this holiday. Gift giving was universal, after all.
Title: And This Is Why I Hate People (Five Jobs Even Worse Than Meifu)
Series: Yami no Matsuei
Day/Theme: January twenty-eighth / but what can you do when you have to deal with people? (late, haha)
Character/pairing: Hisoka, Tsuzuki, Saya, Yuma, Tatsumi, more,
Word count: around 700+
A/N: For Sam as a Christmas Present (one of them, anyways!) and a thank you for the paid account + icon space she gave me :3 The last one is actually a reference to an X-Files episode (where Mulder and Skully had to pretend to be a married couple to infiltrate a creepy suburban place? Yeah, that.)
I.
Nietzsche was right, Hisoka thinks, there is no God. There couldn’t be, not with this job. Tsuzuki sneaks in pastries while Wakaba cheerily bakes for hours on end, looking perfectly at home in a frilly apron.
“Welcome. May I take your order,” Hisoka grates out from clenched teeth. The patron hardly even notices, his hungry gaze lingering over every ruffle and inch of Hisoka’s far-too-short-dress.
Of all the places to work undercover, Hisoka got the maid café.
II.
“There’s this thing, and my computer froze, can you help me out?”
“Wait, did you check for spyware? What about your anti-viral – WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE AN ANTI-VIRAL, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” Watari screams into the phone.
Watari then slams down the phone and runs, barely grabbing his coat, as if he had a world to save rather than just a computer.
Tsuzuki spends most of his time on Solitaire and playing MMRPGS – Maple Story being a favorite diversion ( he now has a level 57 Ice/Lightning Mage called “Hisokachaaaaan” which he insists on dressing in cat ears and pink hotpants )
Tatsumi spends most of his time locked in his office lovingly working with accounting software. (It can balance numbers ten times faster and fifteen times more efficiently. When Tatsumi is out of earshot, jokes pass around that he’d marry it if he could. He probably would.)
Tezazuma was probably the happiest of them in this job, working in back with the computer programmers, he could go weeks without ever even glimpsing a female face.
III.
“Welcome to Burgermart, home of the cheap burgers, can I take your order?” Hisoka deadpans.
“Hmmm,” the gentleman said. He seemed far too elegant for such an establishment. His white suit is flawlessly kept. He seems as if he should belong to some country club or possibly insane asylum with those buckles.
Behind him Tsuzuki munched down yet another scoop of fries. By now he was at negative pay, and this was just the second day they’d worked there.
“I’d like him.,” the gentleman said, pointing to Hisoka’s coworker.
“Good, ‘that’s’ on special right now. In fact, take him, and I’ll throw in a free milkshake,” Hisoka said.
The gentleman smirked. “It sounds delicious.”
IV.
“Oh, Azalea honey, don’t tear down that wall!”
Hisoka huddled somewhere far, far away from the churning mass of children. They swarmed around Tsuzuki, and he seemed perfectly at home with them clinging all over him. The colors of Napalm Children’s Care Safe House were garish, bright enough to cause seizures.
They were evil. Tsuzuki had obviously been dulled by spending too much time with his coworkers – namely Tatsumi, Watari and the Hokkadio duo, but Hisoka could since the churning black mass of terror behind those cute eyes.
V.
“Honey, where did you put the invitations?” Tsuzuki calls Their new rented home sparkles and Hisoka can already see the future damages that are bound to happen and incur Tatsumi’s wrath.
Hisoka sends a glare his way. He wishes he could trade in empathy for something useful, like pyrokinesis or telepathy. Then he could tell Tsuzuki he was being an idiot without even mustering the effort of flinging a book his way.
“I’m trying to be couple-y. We’re supposed to be married to pull this job off,” Tsuzuki whines. “How am I supposed to pull it off if you won’t be couple-y with me.”
“We’re supposed to be married – I am acting normal, just like a married wife. Any less normal and they’ll be suspicious,” Hisoka mutters.
Regardless, Tsuzuki grabs him into a too-tight too intimate hug that has some very true-to-life acting.
Empathy works in many ways, and he can sense the images of Tsuzuki’s thoughts. They are not innocent.
Needless to say, Tsuzuki sleeps on the couch that night. And every night of their stay.
Fandom: Tenipuri
Character/Pairing: TezukaFuji
Summary: Fuji had an odd habit of appropriating holidays.
Rating: PG-13-ish.
A/N:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Bacchanalia is a gathering of orgiastic sex and drinking, as named after the festival for Bacchus/Dionysus of Grecian lore. Saturnalia was a festival honoring Saturn that involved many of the traditions we find at Christmas today, such as gift-giving. Check Wiki for more.
--
Fuji had an odd habit of appropriating holidays. Two years ago Fuji had celebrated eight days of Hanukkah even though Tezuka had tried quite reasonably to point out that they weren’t Jewish.
From Kwanzaa to Winter Solstice, Fuji picked up any weird, strange or foreign traditions he could find (though Tezuka did have to admit that their Bacchanalia for two at Saturnalia was a night to remember.)
“What are you celebrating this time?” Tezuka said
“Christmas, I’ve got a present for you under the tree,” Fuji said in his most seductive voice (which was in essence, his default voice. Fuji could make reading a phone book sound orgiastic)
“Also, you might want to return quickly, it’s rather cold down here and I have pine needles sticking into my derriere,” Fuji added.
When Tezuka returned to their apartment he found a medium-sized artificial tree decked in lights and golden tinsel. In the glow of this lights was Fuji. He wore nothing but a red velvet bow tied tastefully over his waist.
“Merry Christmas, Tezuka.”
Tezuka thought he could learn to appreciate this holiday. Gift giving was universal, after all.
Title: And This Is Why I Hate People (Five Jobs Even Worse Than Meifu)
Series: Yami no Matsuei
Day/Theme: January twenty-eighth / but what can you do when you have to deal with people? (late, haha)
Character/pairing: Hisoka, Tsuzuki, Saya, Yuma, Tatsumi, more,
Word count: around 700+
A/N: For Sam as a Christmas Present (one of them, anyways!) and a thank you for the paid account + icon space she gave me :3 The last one is actually a reference to an X-Files episode (where Mulder and Skully had to pretend to be a married couple to infiltrate a creepy suburban place? Yeah, that.)
I.
Nietzsche was right, Hisoka thinks, there is no God. There couldn’t be, not with this job. Tsuzuki sneaks in pastries while Wakaba cheerily bakes for hours on end, looking perfectly at home in a frilly apron.
“Welcome. May I take your order,” Hisoka grates out from clenched teeth. The patron hardly even notices, his hungry gaze lingering over every ruffle and inch of Hisoka’s far-too-short-dress.
Of all the places to work undercover, Hisoka got the maid café.
II.
“There’s this thing, and my computer froze, can you help me out?”
“Wait, did you check for spyware? What about your anti-viral – WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE AN ANTI-VIRAL, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” Watari screams into the phone.
Watari then slams down the phone and runs, barely grabbing his coat, as if he had a world to save rather than just a computer.
Tsuzuki spends most of his time on Solitaire and playing MMRPGS – Maple Story being a favorite diversion ( he now has a level 57 Ice/Lightning Mage called “Hisokachaaaaan” which he insists on dressing in cat ears and pink hotpants )
Tatsumi spends most of his time locked in his office lovingly working with accounting software. (It can balance numbers ten times faster and fifteen times more efficiently. When Tatsumi is out of earshot, jokes pass around that he’d marry it if he could. He probably would.)
Tezazuma was probably the happiest of them in this job, working in back with the computer programmers, he could go weeks without ever even glimpsing a female face.
III.
“Welcome to Burgermart, home of the cheap burgers, can I take your order?” Hisoka deadpans.
“Hmmm,” the gentleman said. He seemed far too elegant for such an establishment. His white suit is flawlessly kept. He seems as if he should belong to some country club or possibly insane asylum with those buckles.
Behind him Tsuzuki munched down yet another scoop of fries. By now he was at negative pay, and this was just the second day they’d worked there.
“I’d like him.,” the gentleman said, pointing to Hisoka’s coworker.
“Good, ‘that’s’ on special right now. In fact, take him, and I’ll throw in a free milkshake,” Hisoka said.
The gentleman smirked. “It sounds delicious.”
IV.
“Oh, Azalea honey, don’t tear down that wall!”
Hisoka huddled somewhere far, far away from the churning mass of children. They swarmed around Tsuzuki, and he seemed perfectly at home with them clinging all over him. The colors of Napalm Children’s Care Safe House were garish, bright enough to cause seizures.
They were evil. Tsuzuki had obviously been dulled by spending too much time with his coworkers – namely Tatsumi, Watari and the Hokkadio duo, but Hisoka could since the churning black mass of terror behind those cute eyes.
V.
“Honey, where did you put the invitations?” Tsuzuki calls Their new rented home sparkles and Hisoka can already see the future damages that are bound to happen and incur Tatsumi’s wrath.
Hisoka sends a glare his way. He wishes he could trade in empathy for something useful, like pyrokinesis or telepathy. Then he could tell Tsuzuki he was being an idiot without even mustering the effort of flinging a book his way.
“I’m trying to be couple-y. We’re supposed to be married to pull this job off,” Tsuzuki whines. “How am I supposed to pull it off if you won’t be couple-y with me.”
“We’re supposed to be married – I am acting normal, just like a married wife. Any less normal and they’ll be suspicious,” Hisoka mutters.
Regardless, Tsuzuki grabs him into a too-tight too intimate hug that has some very true-to-life acting.
Empathy works in many ways, and he can sense the images of Tsuzuki’s thoughts. They are not innocent.
Needless to say, Tsuzuki sleeps on the couch that night. And every night of their stay.