For RaeRae~!
Merry Christmas, crazy-marik. ^__^ Hyoutei it is!
Title: Constant
Pairing: AtoJi
Rating: PG...?
Note: I... have no idea. It's short, it's completely disconnected, it's probably just a drabble. *really has no idea* XD
First year:
"Atobe-sama!" The familiar voice rang through the corridor, even though it was crowded with Hyoutei Gakuen students going to classrooms. Or perhaps Atobe was so used to hearing this voice that he could pick it out of a crowd. A pile of blond hair eventually emerged, bobbing up and down, as he stood and waited for Jirou to catch up. "Atobe-sama! Do you have a spare pencil? Mine broke," he said waving a pencil, that was indeed, snapped neatly in two.
"Ore-sama always has spare pencils, Jirou. Why don't you?" Atobe asked, marching his way into and through the crowd. If people did not get out of the way for Atobe Keigo, then he would walk through them. He led the way out of the corridor and into the free air outside before heading for a bench where he could fish out his pencil case and hand Jirou a few mechanical pencils.
Jirou did a little embarrassed shrug, and tucked the pencils into his pocket. "Thanks, Atobe-sama~ You always have spare stuff for me to borrow."
Atobe chuckled dryly and patted his shoulder. "Well, you're constantly here trying to borrow things off Ore-sama, so Ore-sama must."
Second year:
"Hey, 'Tobe-schama!" A mop of unruly blond hair flew over to Atobe's seat in the cafeteria and squirmed into the non-existent space beside him, causing the person next to Atobe to beam death glares at the back of Jirou's head. Atobe glared back spectacularly, and suddenly there was room for Jirou.
Atobe took up his chopsticks, "Don't speak with your mouth full, Jirou. It's bad manners, and you'll spit all over Ore-sama. Where's the rest of your lunch, anyway?" He glanced around for Jirou's bag, but there wasn't any food there.
"I finished already, Atobe-sama," the other boy said, having hastily swallowed. "I just came over to keep you company til you finish yours. Morning training today made me a bit sleepy," he yawned, a sleepy little breath of air. "You go ahead and finish your lunch..." The head dropped onto Atobe's shoulder as he fell asleep, curling up and nuzzling into Atobe in his sleep.
"Honestly, Jirou," went unheard, as Atobe looked down at the closed eyes, and adjusted his head so that he wouldn't have a crick in his neck when he woke up. "Ore-sama realises that he is pleasant to touch, but you're constantly trying to sleep on me."
Third year:
"Awww. You won again, Atobe." Jirou ruffled his hair and pouted at the other boy, who threw a towel at him.
"Of course. Ore-sama always wins whatever he wants to." He waited for the other boy, then headed towards the changing rooms together, wiping sweat off his forehead.
"Really? That must be good. I can't do that," Jirou looked downfallen for a moment as he stripped off for the shower. He laughed, and shrugged. "Oh well." The hot water splashed down. "I won Atobe-sama, so it's all alright, really." Bubbles poured forth from Jirou's hair, as he lathered far too much shampoo onto it.
Atobe looked miffed. "Ore-sama thinks you'll find that it's the other way around, actually." He stepped into the shower and wrapped his arms around Jirou's soapy torso. "Ore-sama always wins, so Ore-sama won you." He rubbed shampoo out of the blond hair. "Mine," he said possessively, as Jirou happily leaned into him and let Atobe rub his back.
"You're constantly saying that, Atobe. Are you scared I'm going to run away to someone else?" Jirou tiptoed up to kiss Atobe's wet lips.
"Not at all," the other boy sniffed. "It is you who is constantly depending on me, so Ore-sama is compelled to look after you." He kissed Jirou back.
Title: Constant
Pairing: AtoJi
Rating: PG...?
Note: I... have no idea. It's short, it's completely disconnected, it's probably just a drabble. *really has no idea* XD
First year:
"Atobe-sama!" The familiar voice rang through the corridor, even though it was crowded with Hyoutei Gakuen students going to classrooms. Or perhaps Atobe was so used to hearing this voice that he could pick it out of a crowd. A pile of blond hair eventually emerged, bobbing up and down, as he stood and waited for Jirou to catch up. "Atobe-sama! Do you have a spare pencil? Mine broke," he said waving a pencil, that was indeed, snapped neatly in two.
"Ore-sama always has spare pencils, Jirou. Why don't you?" Atobe asked, marching his way into and through the crowd. If people did not get out of the way for Atobe Keigo, then he would walk through them. He led the way out of the corridor and into the free air outside before heading for a bench where he could fish out his pencil case and hand Jirou a few mechanical pencils.
Jirou did a little embarrassed shrug, and tucked the pencils into his pocket. "Thanks, Atobe-sama~ You always have spare stuff for me to borrow."
Atobe chuckled dryly and patted his shoulder. "Well, you're constantly here trying to borrow things off Ore-sama, so Ore-sama must."
Second year:
"Hey, 'Tobe-schama!" A mop of unruly blond hair flew over to Atobe's seat in the cafeteria and squirmed into the non-existent space beside him, causing the person next to Atobe to beam death glares at the back of Jirou's head. Atobe glared back spectacularly, and suddenly there was room for Jirou.
Atobe took up his chopsticks, "Don't speak with your mouth full, Jirou. It's bad manners, and you'll spit all over Ore-sama. Where's the rest of your lunch, anyway?" He glanced around for Jirou's bag, but there wasn't any food there.
"I finished already, Atobe-sama," the other boy said, having hastily swallowed. "I just came over to keep you company til you finish yours. Morning training today made me a bit sleepy," he yawned, a sleepy little breath of air. "You go ahead and finish your lunch..." The head dropped onto Atobe's shoulder as he fell asleep, curling up and nuzzling into Atobe in his sleep.
"Honestly, Jirou," went unheard, as Atobe looked down at the closed eyes, and adjusted his head so that he wouldn't have a crick in his neck when he woke up. "Ore-sama realises that he is pleasant to touch, but you're constantly trying to sleep on me."
Third year:
"Awww. You won again, Atobe." Jirou ruffled his hair and pouted at the other boy, who threw a towel at him.
"Of course. Ore-sama always wins whatever he wants to." He waited for the other boy, then headed towards the changing rooms together, wiping sweat off his forehead.
"Really? That must be good. I can't do that," Jirou looked downfallen for a moment as he stripped off for the shower. He laughed, and shrugged. "Oh well." The hot water splashed down. "I won Atobe-sama, so it's all alright, really." Bubbles poured forth from Jirou's hair, as he lathered far too much shampoo onto it.
Atobe looked miffed. "Ore-sama thinks you'll find that it's the other way around, actually." He stepped into the shower and wrapped his arms around Jirou's soapy torso. "Ore-sama always wins, so Ore-sama won you." He rubbed shampoo out of the blond hair. "Mine," he said possessively, as Jirou happily leaned into him and let Atobe rub his back.
"You're constantly saying that, Atobe. Are you scared I'm going to run away to someone else?" Jirou tiptoed up to kiss Atobe's wet lips.
"Not at all," the other boy sniffed. "It is you who is constantly depending on me, so Ore-sama is compelled to look after you." He kissed Jirou back.