The Double Act [Prince Of Tennis: Atobe/Fuji, Tezuka/Atobe/Fuji]
title: The Double Act
fandom: Prince Of Tennis
'pairing': Atobe/Fuji, Tezuka/Atobe/Fuji
prompt: Now my world is filled with so many things, But nothing compares to the touch of your skin - I Can't Ever Get Enough Of You, Darren Hayes
notes: Wherein I taunt Tezuka mercilessly and he becomes a quivering mess in the face of The Terrible Twosome. Written For the January Fluffy Relationships Challenge. 1878 Words.
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"Fuji Syuusuke, you are the only person I know who is always consistently a good player." Atobe speaks as he sends back Fuji's shot - his breathing laboured, but he is smiling. "But you never visibly improve; why is that?"
"You are full of questions you already know the answers to today," Fuji smiles as he returns the easy ball. Mostly they just rally good-naturedly. "First you ask me if I've spoken to Tezuka, now you are quizzing my skill level."
"I can't help it. I enjoy listening to the sound of your voice, obviously." Atobe drawls.
"Oh, and I can tell." Fuji shakes his head as he smiles to himself; somehow it is always sunny at Atobe's home. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the butler bringing out the drinks; the usual for both of them. Fuji has been to Atobe's home now more often than his own tennis team.
They reach for the glasses on the table under the shade, and begin to sip at their drinks. To the left the pool is shimmering against the sunlight. Fuji glances over and watches; it looks absolutely heavenly.
"Bring a change of clothes?" Atobe enquires. "I'm not sure I'd have anything to fit that skinny frame of yours, after all."
"I can't see you being especially concerned if I don't have anything else to wear." Fuji says, placing his half-empty glass back down.
"You're right," Atobe agrees, following suit. He steps behind Fuji, who has unintentionally drifted closer to the pool. "I won't be."
The next thing he knows, he is being dragged down by his soaking wet clothes, and the chlorine stench surrounds him. But the water is so cool, and so pleasant, and Fuji can't be mad at Atobe for pushing him in. It's not the first time, after all. The first time, Atobe and Tezuka did it to him together, if he remembers correctly. And then there was the glaring match between them to determine who would fall next, which Fuji watched from in the pool, his hair dripping water down between his eyes. In the end they had each stepped backwards away from one another and entered the pool from opposite sides. And it was a race to see who would reach Fuji first.
When Fuji brings himself back upright and finds both his feet and the floor of the pool, Atobe has already pulled off his shirt and shorts, revealing him to be well-prepared in swimming trunks. Atobe always knows everyone else's weakness. He slips into the water elegantly, as Fuji is never given the chance to, and makes his way closer. He murmurs something about getting Fuji out of those wet things as he pulls off his soaked through shirt, and Fuji replies that it doesn't make much difference when you're still in the water.
Atobe doesn't reply to this; he's definitely too engrossed in removing all unnecessary clothing. Even Fuji can't quite work out how he got that wet shirt to land on the sun lounger, consdering how far away it is.
"Is it wise to be playing tennis with no underwear on?" Atobe asks with a smirk. Fuji feigns innocence.
"Oh, did I forget again?"
"Common occurance in my home, it seems..." Atobe murmurs. He seems deep in concentration, hands exploring through the water, when he speaks again. "Syuusuke, I have a proposition for you..."
"I think you've already made it clear," Fuji smirks, his eyes catching the sunlight and glittering.
"No, no I mean something else, actually." Atobe smiles. He doesn't often smile genuinely. "We have a little free time before the next round of the tournament begins... I can take time out... I've spoken to my father; he's offered to fund a couple of tickets."
"Tickets? For what?" Fuji asks.
"Plane tickets. To Germany."
"Oh." Fuji pauses. It's going to be near-impossible to turn down, seeing Tezuka, just the three of them together again... But it's such an expense. Too much. And he tells Atobe so.
"Look, though it might seem it, it's not easy for me to offer this to you, either." Atobe insists quietly, fingers still all over Fuji's skin. "I know it's a lot more than treats, or a party. But my father isn't stupid. He knows, to some extent, what goes on between us. And he offered this anyway." Atobe laughs half-heartedly. "Perhaps he's sick of our moping, knowing there's a part of us missing. It can be a gift; Christmas, birthday, and both again next year if you want. Whatever will make you feel better about it. It's not charity. I don't do charity."
"I believe you." Fuji nods. "It's a little too good to be true, that's all. I definitely want to go though; how long for?"
Atobe shrugs. "Probably only two, three days?"
"Better than nothing." Fuji replies. "I'll just warn the school. Tell them I have a family thing, or something. Who's going to tell? Yuuta doesn't know what I get up to, ever. And Yumi-chan will cover for me."
"Now now, no self-pity." Atobe tilted Fuji's chin up with the tip of his finger. "There's no way in hell your brother could do for you the things Kunimitsu and I can do. Even if we were to teach him ourselves."
On the plane as it takes off, Fuji is still contemplating the fact that neither Tezuka or Atobe has ever judged him for his over-interest in his brother. It is things like that, he decides, that makes the arrangement work so well. No-one judges anyone, outside of tennis of course. They never stop debating one another's tennis.
He is so deep in thought he does not notice Atobe watching him for nearly an hour.
"Looking forward to landing?" Atobe asks.
"I wasn't thinking about that, to be honest." Fuji admits. "But you know I am. Just like you are."
"Yes, well," Atobe says, "for all their size, speed and grandeur, I'm just not a flying enthusiast."
"You're not scared of flying, are you?" Fuji asks with a grin. Atobe shakes his head.
"Not flying; it's crashing that's the worrying part!"
"We won't why don't you try and sleep. I doubt the hostesses will be slipping you anything to calm your nerves here."
"You're right, this isn't my mother's study." Atobe says with a suppressed laugh. Sometimes Atobe's homelife makes Fuji sad, but it only proves money isn't everything.
When he's asleep, Atobe looks just as innocent as everyone else does while they slumber. And Fuji can muse over how funny it is that Atobe is scared of flying. Or crashing, as he puts it. Not that it's irrational, just unexpected. He has an infinite threshold for surprise. And Fuji had always thought his father owned his own helicopter?
"Those are different!" Atobe says once he has woken again and Fuji has bothered to ask about it. "They're made differently, and they even fly differently. And you can see everything around you." He gestures to the window across the walkway, "all you can see up here is cotton wool."
"I used cotton wool for clouds in my art pictures when I was younger, too." Fuji smiles. "At least, I hope that's what you're referencing."
"Ha, ha." Atobe says sarcastically. "Are we nearly there yet?"
"Nearly."
It seems like the ridiculous is true; Atobe visibly relaxes once they step off the plane, hand-luggage in tow. Neither of the could resist bring their tennis rackets, though they know Tezuka can't play. Fuji takes the initiative in finding a taxi, because he has been here before with the team, and he knows where they are headed. He and Atobe pile their monstrous luggage into the back of the taxi and sit in silent anticipation.
"Are you sure you've brought enough?" Are Tezuka's first words, and his face says he really doesn't know where they plan to put all this stuff.
"Oh, you're so droll." Atobe replies. "Go on, Syuusuke, snog him rotten, I can see you're dying to. I can wait a minute."
"Snog?!" Fuji laughs. "You watch too much foreign TV."
"So do you, apparently, else you wouldn't know what I was talking about."
"I don't, and I don't believe I want to." Tezuka says. "Have you even booked a hotel, or were you angling to squeeze into my single bedroom, luggage and all?"
"You know us too well." Fuji says, brushing his lips across Tezuka's. "You should be happier to see us."
"Believe me, inside I'm crying with joy."
"Oh-ho, that was sarcasm!" Atobe laughs. "How we've missed it back at home."
"You're the only ones who ever happen to hear it," Tezuka points out, "which hopefully tells you something."
"He's being positively chatty today, isn't he, Keigo?" Fuji smiles. "He's missed us too!"
"I don't recall saying that..." Tezuka says, finding two rucksacks placed into his hands so that Fuji and Atobe can struggle with their huge suitcases a little more easily.
Outside the door to his room Tezuka is fumbling for excuses.
"Why don't we visit the museum? Or the cathedral? The tennis courts are downstairs, you two can play..."
"We've seen the sights," Fuji says firmly. "Why don't we show Atobe your room?" When Tezuka looks between himself and Atobe they are wearing matching smirks.
"The two of you are so transparent, I could swear I'm seeing ghosts." He mutters.
"Oh shut up and enjoy it, Tezuka." Atobe says with a wave of his hand. "You've missed us, you probably haven't had any fun without us. Just rehab and studying all the time. No fun, no fun at all."
"It's all valuable experience!" Tezuka says, but his words are strained. It's hard to win a two-on-one argument.
"Well, you weren't kidding about the small room." Atobe says, blinking at the bed, the desk, and the tiny amount of floor-space inbetween. "I think I could reach out my arms and touch both walls at the same time."
"Probably." Fuji grins.
"Well, see now, it's just not a great idea." Tezuka was almost stammering. Atobe was starting to wonder if all Germans had a nervous disposition and after spending so long in Germany, Tezuka had just adopted one too.
Atobe looked at Fuji. Fuji looked at Atobe. Tezuka squirmed because he had the biggest sense of the apocalypse coming.
They managed to prove to him it was a good idea after all.
Afterwards, when Atobe had stepped out of the room to use the toilet, Fuji spoke.
"Can I be serious for a moment?" He asked.
"Please God, I beg you to." Tezuka said. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that the two of them would be there for another two days. Being away so long had left such nice, fond memories in his mind of Atobe and Fuji. Where had they dreamt themselves up from, he was wondering now.
Atobe reached the doorway before Fuji spoke again, and Syuusuke looked up in time to see him standing there, agreeing silently with every word he spoke, standing wearing nothing but his boxers and a smile.
"I know that the two of us at least have each other, while you're here. But we do still miss you."
Tezuka was hard pushed to think badly of either of them after that. It was only two more days, after all...
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fandom: Prince Of Tennis
'pairing': Atobe/Fuji, Tezuka/Atobe/Fuji
prompt: Now my world is filled with so many things, But nothing compares to the touch of your skin - I Can't Ever Get Enough Of You, Darren Hayes
notes: Wherein I taunt Tezuka mercilessly and he becomes a quivering mess in the face of The Terrible Twosome. Written For the January Fluffy Relationships Challenge. 1878 Words.
-
"Fuji Syuusuke, you are the only person I know who is always consistently a good player." Atobe speaks as he sends back Fuji's shot - his breathing laboured, but he is smiling. "But you never visibly improve; why is that?"
"You are full of questions you already know the answers to today," Fuji smiles as he returns the easy ball. Mostly they just rally good-naturedly. "First you ask me if I've spoken to Tezuka, now you are quizzing my skill level."
"I can't help it. I enjoy listening to the sound of your voice, obviously." Atobe drawls.
"Oh, and I can tell." Fuji shakes his head as he smiles to himself; somehow it is always sunny at Atobe's home. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the butler bringing out the drinks; the usual for both of them. Fuji has been to Atobe's home now more often than his own tennis team.
They reach for the glasses on the table under the shade, and begin to sip at their drinks. To the left the pool is shimmering against the sunlight. Fuji glances over and watches; it looks absolutely heavenly.
"Bring a change of clothes?" Atobe enquires. "I'm not sure I'd have anything to fit that skinny frame of yours, after all."
"I can't see you being especially concerned if I don't have anything else to wear." Fuji says, placing his half-empty glass back down.
"You're right," Atobe agrees, following suit. He steps behind Fuji, who has unintentionally drifted closer to the pool. "I won't be."
The next thing he knows, he is being dragged down by his soaking wet clothes, and the chlorine stench surrounds him. But the water is so cool, and so pleasant, and Fuji can't be mad at Atobe for pushing him in. It's not the first time, after all. The first time, Atobe and Tezuka did it to him together, if he remembers correctly. And then there was the glaring match between them to determine who would fall next, which Fuji watched from in the pool, his hair dripping water down between his eyes. In the end they had each stepped backwards away from one another and entered the pool from opposite sides. And it was a race to see who would reach Fuji first.
When Fuji brings himself back upright and finds both his feet and the floor of the pool, Atobe has already pulled off his shirt and shorts, revealing him to be well-prepared in swimming trunks. Atobe always knows everyone else's weakness. He slips into the water elegantly, as Fuji is never given the chance to, and makes his way closer. He murmurs something about getting Fuji out of those wet things as he pulls off his soaked through shirt, and Fuji replies that it doesn't make much difference when you're still in the water.
Atobe doesn't reply to this; he's definitely too engrossed in removing all unnecessary clothing. Even Fuji can't quite work out how he got that wet shirt to land on the sun lounger, consdering how far away it is.
"Is it wise to be playing tennis with no underwear on?" Atobe asks with a smirk. Fuji feigns innocence.
"Oh, did I forget again?"
"Common occurance in my home, it seems..." Atobe murmurs. He seems deep in concentration, hands exploring through the water, when he speaks again. "Syuusuke, I have a proposition for you..."
"I think you've already made it clear," Fuji smirks, his eyes catching the sunlight and glittering.
"No, no I mean something else, actually." Atobe smiles. He doesn't often smile genuinely. "We have a little free time before the next round of the tournament begins... I can take time out... I've spoken to my father; he's offered to fund a couple of tickets."
"Tickets? For what?" Fuji asks.
"Plane tickets. To Germany."
"Oh." Fuji pauses. It's going to be near-impossible to turn down, seeing Tezuka, just the three of them together again... But it's such an expense. Too much. And he tells Atobe so.
"Look, though it might seem it, it's not easy for me to offer this to you, either." Atobe insists quietly, fingers still all over Fuji's skin. "I know it's a lot more than treats, or a party. But my father isn't stupid. He knows, to some extent, what goes on between us. And he offered this anyway." Atobe laughs half-heartedly. "Perhaps he's sick of our moping, knowing there's a part of us missing. It can be a gift; Christmas, birthday, and both again next year if you want. Whatever will make you feel better about it. It's not charity. I don't do charity."
"I believe you." Fuji nods. "It's a little too good to be true, that's all. I definitely want to go though; how long for?"
Atobe shrugs. "Probably only two, three days?"
"Better than nothing." Fuji replies. "I'll just warn the school. Tell them I have a family thing, or something. Who's going to tell? Yuuta doesn't know what I get up to, ever. And Yumi-chan will cover for me."
"Now now, no self-pity." Atobe tilted Fuji's chin up with the tip of his finger. "There's no way in hell your brother could do for you the things Kunimitsu and I can do. Even if we were to teach him ourselves."
On the plane as it takes off, Fuji is still contemplating the fact that neither Tezuka or Atobe has ever judged him for his over-interest in his brother. It is things like that, he decides, that makes the arrangement work so well. No-one judges anyone, outside of tennis of course. They never stop debating one another's tennis.
He is so deep in thought he does not notice Atobe watching him for nearly an hour.
"Looking forward to landing?" Atobe asks.
"I wasn't thinking about that, to be honest." Fuji admits. "But you know I am. Just like you are."
"Yes, well," Atobe says, "for all their size, speed and grandeur, I'm just not a flying enthusiast."
"You're not scared of flying, are you?" Fuji asks with a grin. Atobe shakes his head.
"Not flying; it's crashing that's the worrying part!"
"We won't why don't you try and sleep. I doubt the hostesses will be slipping you anything to calm your nerves here."
"You're right, this isn't my mother's study." Atobe says with a suppressed laugh. Sometimes Atobe's homelife makes Fuji sad, but it only proves money isn't everything.
When he's asleep, Atobe looks just as innocent as everyone else does while they slumber. And Fuji can muse over how funny it is that Atobe is scared of flying. Or crashing, as he puts it. Not that it's irrational, just unexpected. He has an infinite threshold for surprise. And Fuji had always thought his father owned his own helicopter?
"Those are different!" Atobe says once he has woken again and Fuji has bothered to ask about it. "They're made differently, and they even fly differently. And you can see everything around you." He gestures to the window across the walkway, "all you can see up here is cotton wool."
"I used cotton wool for clouds in my art pictures when I was younger, too." Fuji smiles. "At least, I hope that's what you're referencing."
"Ha, ha." Atobe says sarcastically. "Are we nearly there yet?"
"Nearly."
It seems like the ridiculous is true; Atobe visibly relaxes once they step off the plane, hand-luggage in tow. Neither of the could resist bring their tennis rackets, though they know Tezuka can't play. Fuji takes the initiative in finding a taxi, because he has been here before with the team, and he knows where they are headed. He and Atobe pile their monstrous luggage into the back of the taxi and sit in silent anticipation.
"Are you sure you've brought enough?" Are Tezuka's first words, and his face says he really doesn't know where they plan to put all this stuff.
"Oh, you're so droll." Atobe replies. "Go on, Syuusuke, snog him rotten, I can see you're dying to. I can wait a minute."
"Snog?!" Fuji laughs. "You watch too much foreign TV."
"So do you, apparently, else you wouldn't know what I was talking about."
"I don't, and I don't believe I want to." Tezuka says. "Have you even booked a hotel, or were you angling to squeeze into my single bedroom, luggage and all?"
"You know us too well." Fuji says, brushing his lips across Tezuka's. "You should be happier to see us."
"Believe me, inside I'm crying with joy."
"Oh-ho, that was sarcasm!" Atobe laughs. "How we've missed it back at home."
"You're the only ones who ever happen to hear it," Tezuka points out, "which hopefully tells you something."
"He's being positively chatty today, isn't he, Keigo?" Fuji smiles. "He's missed us too!"
"I don't recall saying that..." Tezuka says, finding two rucksacks placed into his hands so that Fuji and Atobe can struggle with their huge suitcases a little more easily.
Outside the door to his room Tezuka is fumbling for excuses.
"Why don't we visit the museum? Or the cathedral? The tennis courts are downstairs, you two can play..."
"We've seen the sights," Fuji says firmly. "Why don't we show Atobe your room?" When Tezuka looks between himself and Atobe they are wearing matching smirks.
"The two of you are so transparent, I could swear I'm seeing ghosts." He mutters.
"Oh shut up and enjoy it, Tezuka." Atobe says with a wave of his hand. "You've missed us, you probably haven't had any fun without us. Just rehab and studying all the time. No fun, no fun at all."
"It's all valuable experience!" Tezuka says, but his words are strained. It's hard to win a two-on-one argument.
"Well, you weren't kidding about the small room." Atobe says, blinking at the bed, the desk, and the tiny amount of floor-space inbetween. "I think I could reach out my arms and touch both walls at the same time."
"Probably." Fuji grins.
"Well, see now, it's just not a great idea." Tezuka was almost stammering. Atobe was starting to wonder if all Germans had a nervous disposition and after spending so long in Germany, Tezuka had just adopted one too.
Atobe looked at Fuji. Fuji looked at Atobe. Tezuka squirmed because he had the biggest sense of the apocalypse coming.
They managed to prove to him it was a good idea after all.
Afterwards, when Atobe had stepped out of the room to use the toilet, Fuji spoke.
"Can I be serious for a moment?" He asked.
"Please God, I beg you to." Tezuka said. He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that the two of them would be there for another two days. Being away so long had left such nice, fond memories in his mind of Atobe and Fuji. Where had they dreamt themselves up from, he was wondering now.
Atobe reached the doorway before Fuji spoke again, and Syuusuke looked up in time to see him standing there, agreeing silently with every word he spoke, standing wearing nothing but his boxers and a smile.
"I know that the two of us at least have each other, while you're here. But we do still miss you."
Tezuka was hard pushed to think badly of either of them after that. It was only two more days, after all...
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