Gift for dame_batsie!
Title: Translator Error
Recipient's name: dame_batsie
Rating: PG-13 for brief language
Pairing(s): Prince of Tennis; Keigo Atobe/Yuushi Oshitari
Disclaimer: PoT is totally not mine, never has been, never will be.
Warnings: Nothing much just some harsh language and a possibly OOC Oshitari seeing as this is the first time I have written him :P
Author's Notes: Oddly enough the idea for this fic came to me almost as soon as I saw my prompt of Atobe/Oshitari and lunch time. Hopefully it won’t be confusing to those who don’t share my level of insanity. I hope you like it dame_bastie!!
Translator Error
It was a beautiful day. The cherry blossoms were in bloom and the birds twittered happily as they flew on the gentle breeze that passed, and on this beautiful day Oshitari sat underneath his favourite tree in the Hyotei courtyard, chewing with an angered vigor on his homemade sashimi bentou. He was not a very happy Oshitari and this was made obvious to anyone passing, by the intense glare he seemed to be giving the perfectly white clouds above. The reason for the tennis star’s particularly sour mood was the new, and very steamy rumours flooding the school as of late about himself and Atobe, the star Captain of the Hyotei Gakuen Middle School tennis team. Oshitari scoffed around the fatty tuna in his mouth. Atobe?! Of all the people, those rumour mongrels had to pair him up with Atobe?! Atobe was everything Oshitari would not look for in a lover. He was hard headed, egotistical, loudmouthed, and… standing right above him.
Oshitari almost choked when he saw the very same hard headed, egotistical, loudmouthed man with his feet planted firmly on the ground next to him. Lifting a hand to slip his silver bangs out of the way Atobe greeted his teammate, “Today, Oshitari, you have the distinct honor of being allowed the company of Ore-sama during this wonderful day, to dine with him for lunch.”
Oshitari blinked at the other man as his internal Atobe-translator, or Atobelator as Oshitari so proudly entitled it, had to boot up and rewrite Atobe’s speech into something a little more… understandable for the sensible populace: ‘Ah O-Oshitari-kun! Since it is so nice out I though we c-c-could have lunch together.’ Oshitari smiled. That was much better, and the fact that his “Atobelator” sounded a lot like one of those nervous girls that inhabited the tennis courtyards was just a fortunate coincidence.
“Of course, Atobe.”
In turn, Atobe had to raise his brow as his own internal Oshitari-translator, the Trans-Itari as Atobe liked to call it, worked to fix the doubles player’s unsophisticated vocabulary into something more refined: ‘Oh my glorious Captain! It would more than a heavenly pleasure of mine to share with the greatest Captain this school has even seen his precious, and no doubt valuable, lunch time!’
Oshitari briefly wondered why Atobe snickered to himself under his breath, but decided that his captain was just going insane (nothing new there) and continued to indulge in his sushi, or tried to at least. However, when he lifted up his bentou to dig in to his food one more, it was violently ripped away from him. Looking up he witnessed Atobe holding up the bentou and inspecting it like a piece of dusty clothing you’d find in the attic. Eventually he gave a brief sniff to the said lunch and a grimace washed over his face as if he’d just caught a whiff of road kill. Then, without any warning, Atobe tossed the entire hard-earned lunch over his shoulder with a slight smirk on his face.
Oshitari watched in horror as the lunch he so meticulously worked on all morning spread itself all over the courtyard. He had begun to scream at the idiocy of his stupid captain, when the silver-haired man whipped out a rather large wicker picnic basket from behind his back. Before he could even wonder how he didn’t noticed the huge basket before, Atobe pulled out from the mysterious container a good sized blue and white checkered blanket and spread it out almost perfectly in front of them.
“Atobe, what do you think you are doing?”
Trans-Itari: ’Oh what a wonderful surprise this is my beloved Atobe-buchou! Please enlighten me as to your plans on this wonderful afternoon.’
Atobe snickered at his teammate, “Ore-sama is about to give your tongue the most pleasant experience it has had in its life by allowing it to sample the works of Yours Truly.”
Atobelator: ‘Oh, Oshitari-kun. I-I just wanted to show you my miraculous talents! I promise to make your tongue feel v-very good, if you’ll let me.’
Oshitari couldn’t help the blush that swept across his face. There was no way that Atobe could have possibly said that. His Atobelator must be broken or something, messed up by all those rumors going around. The bespectacled player had to think carefully before he spoke next, “Thanks A-Atobe but I’m sure that my tongue is fine the way it is.”
Trans-Itari: ‘Oh but Atobe, my lord. I do not know if my unrefined palate is ready for your wondrous skill.’
Atobe scoffed at this, “Nonsense. I’m sure you will be amazed. Just sit back and relax, I will make sure you’ll never forget this.”
Atobelator: ‘B-but, Yuushi-kun I just want to make you feel good. Please relax and I will make this an unforgettable event.’
Oshitari blushed even harder and began to back away, it especially didn’t help that instead of the nervous schoolgirl voice from before, the Atobelator was now speaking in a sultry tone making Oshitari feel quite anxious. “A-Atobe! Really it’s alright! I don’t think I’ll be forgetting this anytime soon.”
Trans-Itari: ‘It’s alright Atobe-sama. Just spending time with you is enough to make this day a permanent marker in my mind.’
Atobe frowned, he would not be turned down by Oshitari of all people! “What’s gotten into you Oshitari? Don’t you want to experience the pleasure I am ready to bestow upon you?”
Atobelator: ‘Oh Yuushi-kun, what’s wrong? Don’t you want it?’
The violet haired man could literally feel his heart begin to beat out of his chest. This was beginning to be too much to handle. He wanted nothing more than to reject Atobe and run off as far away as he could from his Captain, but unfortunately his mouth spoke before he had a chance to stop it, “Yes! I do want it!”
Trans-Itari: ‘Keigo-sama yes! Give it to me please!’
Atobe smirked at his victory, “Good, now come over here and get it.”
Atobelator: ‘Then get over here and give it to me Yuushi!’
Oshitari gulped nervously. He had dug his own grave and now it was time to lay in it. So gathering up all his courage and nerves he half-jumped, half-crawled over to where Atobe was sitting, and grabbed the smooth skin of his Captain’s cheek, and before Atobe even had a chance to respond to this no doubt invasion of his personal bubble, he felt a grip on his jaw and suddenly his face was pulled forward. He didn’t have a clue as to what was going on until he felt dry lips roughly placed against his own. So stunned was Atobe, that he couldn’t do a thing but sit there as Oshitari moved his lips. It wasn’t until the doubles player moved away that he was finally able to blink away the shock, however the whole situation had completely fried the two player’s respective translators, leaving the two the draw back of actually having to listen to each other for once. Thus, it was of no surprise that the next thing Atobe said rung crystal clear to Oshitari’s ears.
“Oshitari, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
At that moment Oshitari could only blink as he was unable to relay on his translator. After a few confused seconds he said the first thing that popped into his mind, “Um, experiencing the pleasure of your miraculous talents?”
Atobe’s eyebrow shot up in a confused glare that screamed (no translation needed), ‘What the fuck are you talking about?!’
Oshitari looked back and forth between the glare and the wicker picnic basket--which see could see from this angle, was filled with delicious looking food--and suddenly it all clicked in his mind, “I… believe I gravely misunderstood you Atobe….”
“Yes that is quite painfully clear.”
“And I am safe to assume that I acted slightly idiotically toward the situation…”
“Yes, Oshitari, very much so.”
“And this probably did not help to quell those rumours about us.”
“No, definitely not.”
This short, unaltered conversation between the two helped Oshitari gather his wits and he slowly backed away from Atobe to the other end of the picnic blanket that was now wrinkled and imperfect. The silence that followed was so thick and uncomfortable that Oshitari was ready to bolt at any minute: until he heard a soft sigh from across from him causing him to look up to see Atobe smooth out the crinkled blanket and proceed to unpack the food from the basket.
Oshitari watched in a dazed state as his captain laid out a practical banquet in front of him. Oshitari noticed with interest that most of the meals being laid out in front of him were some of his personal favourites, including some of the most delicious nigiri he had ever seen.
“You know Oshitari,” Atobe said, startling the bespectacled tennis player from his daze, “Ore-sama usually doesn’t kiss on the first date, but at least now I know you’re interested.”
The two looked at each other for all of three seconds before they burst out in laughter, and Oshitari knew from that day forward he would have no need for that busted and broken Atobelator, for everything that his captain said would forever ring loud and clear.
Recipient's name: dame_batsie
Rating: PG-13 for brief language
Pairing(s): Prince of Tennis; Keigo Atobe/Yuushi Oshitari
Disclaimer: PoT is totally not mine, never has been, never will be.
Warnings: Nothing much just some harsh language and a possibly OOC Oshitari seeing as this is the first time I have written him :P
Author's Notes: Oddly enough the idea for this fic came to me almost as soon as I saw my prompt of Atobe/Oshitari and lunch time. Hopefully it won’t be confusing to those who don’t share my level of insanity. I hope you like it dame_bastie!!
Translator Error
It was a beautiful day. The cherry blossoms were in bloom and the birds twittered happily as they flew on the gentle breeze that passed, and on this beautiful day Oshitari sat underneath his favourite tree in the Hyotei courtyard, chewing with an angered vigor on his homemade sashimi bentou. He was not a very happy Oshitari and this was made obvious to anyone passing, by the intense glare he seemed to be giving the perfectly white clouds above. The reason for the tennis star’s particularly sour mood was the new, and very steamy rumours flooding the school as of late about himself and Atobe, the star Captain of the Hyotei Gakuen Middle School tennis team. Oshitari scoffed around the fatty tuna in his mouth. Atobe?! Of all the people, those rumour mongrels had to pair him up with Atobe?! Atobe was everything Oshitari would not look for in a lover. He was hard headed, egotistical, loudmouthed, and… standing right above him.
Oshitari almost choked when he saw the very same hard headed, egotistical, loudmouthed man with his feet planted firmly on the ground next to him. Lifting a hand to slip his silver bangs out of the way Atobe greeted his teammate, “Today, Oshitari, you have the distinct honor of being allowed the company of Ore-sama during this wonderful day, to dine with him for lunch.”
Oshitari blinked at the other man as his internal Atobe-translator, or Atobelator as Oshitari so proudly entitled it, had to boot up and rewrite Atobe’s speech into something a little more… understandable for the sensible populace: ‘Ah O-Oshitari-kun! Since it is so nice out I though we c-c-could have lunch together.’ Oshitari smiled. That was much better, and the fact that his “Atobelator” sounded a lot like one of those nervous girls that inhabited the tennis courtyards was just a fortunate coincidence.
“Of course, Atobe.”
In turn, Atobe had to raise his brow as his own internal Oshitari-translator, the Trans-Itari as Atobe liked to call it, worked to fix the doubles player’s unsophisticated vocabulary into something more refined: ‘Oh my glorious Captain! It would more than a heavenly pleasure of mine to share with the greatest Captain this school has even seen his precious, and no doubt valuable, lunch time!’
Oshitari briefly wondered why Atobe snickered to himself under his breath, but decided that his captain was just going insane (nothing new there) and continued to indulge in his sushi, or tried to at least. However, when he lifted up his bentou to dig in to his food one more, it was violently ripped away from him. Looking up he witnessed Atobe holding up the bentou and inspecting it like a piece of dusty clothing you’d find in the attic. Eventually he gave a brief sniff to the said lunch and a grimace washed over his face as if he’d just caught a whiff of road kill. Then, without any warning, Atobe tossed the entire hard-earned lunch over his shoulder with a slight smirk on his face.
Oshitari watched in horror as the lunch he so meticulously worked on all morning spread itself all over the courtyard. He had begun to scream at the idiocy of his stupid captain, when the silver-haired man whipped out a rather large wicker picnic basket from behind his back. Before he could even wonder how he didn’t noticed the huge basket before, Atobe pulled out from the mysterious container a good sized blue and white checkered blanket and spread it out almost perfectly in front of them.
“Atobe, what do you think you are doing?”
Trans-Itari: ’Oh what a wonderful surprise this is my beloved Atobe-buchou! Please enlighten me as to your plans on this wonderful afternoon.’
Atobe snickered at his teammate, “Ore-sama is about to give your tongue the most pleasant experience it has had in its life by allowing it to sample the works of Yours Truly.”
Atobelator: ‘Oh, Oshitari-kun. I-I just wanted to show you my miraculous talents! I promise to make your tongue feel v-very good, if you’ll let me.’
Oshitari couldn’t help the blush that swept across his face. There was no way that Atobe could have possibly said that. His Atobelator must be broken or something, messed up by all those rumors going around. The bespectacled player had to think carefully before he spoke next, “Thanks A-Atobe but I’m sure that my tongue is fine the way it is.”
Trans-Itari: ‘Oh but Atobe, my lord. I do not know if my unrefined palate is ready for your wondrous skill.’
Atobe scoffed at this, “Nonsense. I’m sure you will be amazed. Just sit back and relax, I will make sure you’ll never forget this.”
Atobelator: ‘B-but, Yuushi-kun I just want to make you feel good. Please relax and I will make this an unforgettable event.’
Oshitari blushed even harder and began to back away, it especially didn’t help that instead of the nervous schoolgirl voice from before, the Atobelator was now speaking in a sultry tone making Oshitari feel quite anxious. “A-Atobe! Really it’s alright! I don’t think I’ll be forgetting this anytime soon.”
Trans-Itari: ‘It’s alright Atobe-sama. Just spending time with you is enough to make this day a permanent marker in my mind.’
Atobe frowned, he would not be turned down by Oshitari of all people! “What’s gotten into you Oshitari? Don’t you want to experience the pleasure I am ready to bestow upon you?”
Atobelator: ‘Oh Yuushi-kun, what’s wrong? Don’t you want it?’
The violet haired man could literally feel his heart begin to beat out of his chest. This was beginning to be too much to handle. He wanted nothing more than to reject Atobe and run off as far away as he could from his Captain, but unfortunately his mouth spoke before he had a chance to stop it, “Yes! I do want it!”
Trans-Itari: ‘Keigo-sama yes! Give it to me please!’
Atobe smirked at his victory, “Good, now come over here and get it.”
Atobelator: ‘Then get over here and give it to me Yuushi!’
Oshitari gulped nervously. He had dug his own grave and now it was time to lay in it. So gathering up all his courage and nerves he half-jumped, half-crawled over to where Atobe was sitting, and grabbed the smooth skin of his Captain’s cheek, and before Atobe even had a chance to respond to this no doubt invasion of his personal bubble, he felt a grip on his jaw and suddenly his face was pulled forward. He didn’t have a clue as to what was going on until he felt dry lips roughly placed against his own. So stunned was Atobe, that he couldn’t do a thing but sit there as Oshitari moved his lips. It wasn’t until the doubles player moved away that he was finally able to blink away the shock, however the whole situation had completely fried the two player’s respective translators, leaving the two the draw back of actually having to listen to each other for once. Thus, it was of no surprise that the next thing Atobe said rung crystal clear to Oshitari’s ears.
“Oshitari, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
At that moment Oshitari could only blink as he was unable to relay on his translator. After a few confused seconds he said the first thing that popped into his mind, “Um, experiencing the pleasure of your miraculous talents?”
Atobe’s eyebrow shot up in a confused glare that screamed (no translation needed), ‘What the fuck are you talking about?!’
Oshitari looked back and forth between the glare and the wicker picnic basket--which see could see from this angle, was filled with delicious looking food--and suddenly it all clicked in his mind, “I… believe I gravely misunderstood you Atobe….”
“Yes that is quite painfully clear.”
“And I am safe to assume that I acted slightly idiotically toward the situation…”
“Yes, Oshitari, very much so.”
“And this probably did not help to quell those rumours about us.”
“No, definitely not.”
This short, unaltered conversation between the two helped Oshitari gather his wits and he slowly backed away from Atobe to the other end of the picnic blanket that was now wrinkled and imperfect. The silence that followed was so thick and uncomfortable that Oshitari was ready to bolt at any minute: until he heard a soft sigh from across from him causing him to look up to see Atobe smooth out the crinkled blanket and proceed to unpack the food from the basket.
Oshitari watched in a dazed state as his captain laid out a practical banquet in front of him. Oshitari noticed with interest that most of the meals being laid out in front of him were some of his personal favourites, including some of the most delicious nigiri he had ever seen.
“You know Oshitari,” Atobe said, startling the bespectacled tennis player from his daze, “Ore-sama usually doesn’t kiss on the first date, but at least now I know you’re interested.”
The two looked at each other for all of three seconds before they burst out in laughter, and Oshitari knew from that day forward he would have no need for that busted and broken Atobelator, for everything that his captain said would forever ring loud and clear.