Lei!Luff.
For owangekid-lei. *wibbles* Sorry it took so long for me to remember to put this up...
Title: Blown up
Pairing: AtoJi
Rating: G.
Notes: Er. I have no idea what this is about. Really. *rubs eyes* I'm so tired, I'm sure it doesn't make sense...
As he looked around the tennis courts, Atobe frowned. "Where is Jirou?" he demanded of Gakuto, who happened to be the nearest person and was not happy with Atobe for suddenly jumping on him like that, making him almost tie his fingers into his shoelaces. He shrugged, and finished his laces, before doing a backflip. Atobe frowned slightly at this impudence. Only slightly, naturally, as frowning would crease Atobe's perfect face.
Atobe was a little concerned; Jirou had not been at morning practice. He was, of course, concerned because his team would suffer if they did not practice, and for Jirou only as much as a captain should be. He wasn't concerned for Jirou's well being because he was overly fond of the boy. Not at all. He strode through the corridors, many giving way to him as the famed Captain of Hyoutei's wonderful tennis club.
Opening the door of Jirou's classroom, he looked around for a fluffy blond head with Ore-sama's Insight. Aha! Atobe briskly plucked his gloves off and tucked them into his pockets as he weaved his way through the desks to reach the head curled up on the desk. "Jirou. Wake up. Ore-sama commands it," he said, putting his hands on his hips and looking down at the other boy, who was now sleepily blinking up at him.
Jirou smiled, an adorable little upturn of full lips. "Nya~ Atobe? What is it?" He yawned, with a little breath of air.
"What is it?! You missed morning practice, Jirou," Atobe frowned slightly. "You have to attend all the practices with dedication if you want to stay on the regulars, you know," he said sternly.
"Oh... I'm sorry. I slept in by accident, 'cause it was so cold and... it's hard getting up," He confessed. The blond boy's face suddenly changed, as he thought of something; he beamed brightly, and said with a slight giggle, "You were worried about me, weren't you, Atobe? Cause there's that cold running around and Yuushi an' Hiyoshi are ill and stuff. That's really sweet of you! You thought I was too ill to come to practice." He smiled at his captain.
Atobe's hands went from his hips, to crossed arms. "Ore-sama was not," he snapped more harshly than he intended. "Ore-sama is concerned with deterioration of health in his regulars team and how it affects the team and its morale. It seems as though Ore-sama should be more concerned about the lack of enthusiasm and bad attitude in his team." Jirou's face immediately fell. His lower lip unconsciously did a little wibble before he could stop it. He pretended to yawn, and curled his head back onto his desk without another word. Atobe stayed there for a moment, nonplussed. Had Jirou just-? He reached out for a moment, and then retracted his hand, wheeled and stalked out of the classroom with brusque steps.
Behind him, Jirou looked up from his feigned sleep with a disappointed look.
--
Jirou missed the after school training session too.
This time, it was Choutarou, who asked if Jirou was ill. Atobe replied in a rather snippy tone. "Not that I know of. He's probably just off sleeping somewhere," he said frostily. "Drills." Gakuto, who knew perfectly well where Jirou was, at home, miserable, pursed his lips and death glared at Atobe. Atobe started the drills quickly, feeling himself under scrutiny of Gakuto's glower. Or perhaps it was his own guilty feelings.
--
Atobe walked up and down the same area as he waited, wondering if the other boy would actually turn up as he had requested. Everything, he decided, had been blown out of proportion. Probably by him, a little bit of his brain added helpfully, just before he mentally bashed that bit in with a mental plastic spoon.
A familiar blond head walked up, and Atobe suddenly felt rather foolish for hiding behind the trees, not least for getting mud all over his shoes and bottom of his trousers due to all that pacing. Jirou had turned up. The other boy sat down on the bench, and glanced at a watch, spinning his tennis racket. Atobe stepped out from behind the bench, and slid onto it. "Jirou," he started.
Jirou stood up rather abruptly and interrupted him, "Shall we move to the courts then, buchou?"
Atobe blinked for a few seconds. "Ore-sama didn't tell you to come to train," he said in a slightly less arrogant tone than usually, standing with Jirou.
The blond scratched his head, and yawned, puzzled. "Par'n? I thought you ordered me to come down 'cause I missed training and that." He glanced edgily at his captain.
"...Ore-sama didn't order you to come, Jirou. Ore-sama asked... so we could take a walk around the park." Atobe patiently endured, and wondered if his team mates honestly thought he was so flippant to order them around all the time. Did he? He thought back. Maybe, he conceded, most of the time. He started to walk, checking back to see that Jirou followed.
As Jirou did fall in step, he hid a little wonky smile. Asked indeed. "So... I'm sorry for missing practice?" he ventured, not really sure why Atobe was randomly telling- no, asking him to take a walk with him.
"Yes. Well. Ore-sama is sure you are," Atobe started, before trying to change his tone, "and... perhaps Ore-sama was a little... harsh."
Closest to an apology he would come, Jirou guessed. "Yes. I'm sure you were," he repeated Atobe's words back at him, with a little sly sideways grin. Atobe glanced at him with one perfectly plucked, raised eyebrow. Abruptly, he reached out and hooked a finger into Jirou's belt loop and yanked the boy hard towards him. Jirou collided with hands on the side of Atobe's chest with a little 'oof!' and smiled shyly. He did a cute little yawn and leant his ruffled head onto Atobe's shoulder in a pretence of tiredness.
"So... you will not miss any more training?" Atobe asked, trying to surreptitiously place his arm around Jirou's waist and being rather obvious about it.
"Nope," Jirou murmured, casually adjusting the placement of Atobe's hand.
Title: Blown up
Pairing: AtoJi
Rating: G.
Notes: Er. I have no idea what this is about. Really. *rubs eyes* I'm so tired, I'm sure it doesn't make sense...
As he looked around the tennis courts, Atobe frowned. "Where is Jirou?" he demanded of Gakuto, who happened to be the nearest person and was not happy with Atobe for suddenly jumping on him like that, making him almost tie his fingers into his shoelaces. He shrugged, and finished his laces, before doing a backflip. Atobe frowned slightly at this impudence. Only slightly, naturally, as frowning would crease Atobe's perfect face.
Atobe was a little concerned; Jirou had not been at morning practice. He was, of course, concerned because his team would suffer if they did not practice, and for Jirou only as much as a captain should be. He wasn't concerned for Jirou's well being because he was overly fond of the boy. Not at all. He strode through the corridors, many giving way to him as the famed Captain of Hyoutei's wonderful tennis club.
Opening the door of Jirou's classroom, he looked around for a fluffy blond head with Ore-sama's Insight. Aha! Atobe briskly plucked his gloves off and tucked them into his pockets as he weaved his way through the desks to reach the head curled up on the desk. "Jirou. Wake up. Ore-sama commands it," he said, putting his hands on his hips and looking down at the other boy, who was now sleepily blinking up at him.
Jirou smiled, an adorable little upturn of full lips. "Nya~ Atobe? What is it?" He yawned, with a little breath of air.
"What is it?! You missed morning practice, Jirou," Atobe frowned slightly. "You have to attend all the practices with dedication if you want to stay on the regulars, you know," he said sternly.
"Oh... I'm sorry. I slept in by accident, 'cause it was so cold and... it's hard getting up," He confessed. The blond boy's face suddenly changed, as he thought of something; he beamed brightly, and said with a slight giggle, "You were worried about me, weren't you, Atobe? Cause there's that cold running around and Yuushi an' Hiyoshi are ill and stuff. That's really sweet of you! You thought I was too ill to come to practice." He smiled at his captain.
Atobe's hands went from his hips, to crossed arms. "Ore-sama was not," he snapped more harshly than he intended. "Ore-sama is concerned with deterioration of health in his regulars team and how it affects the team and its morale. It seems as though Ore-sama should be more concerned about the lack of enthusiasm and bad attitude in his team." Jirou's face immediately fell. His lower lip unconsciously did a little wibble before he could stop it. He pretended to yawn, and curled his head back onto his desk without another word. Atobe stayed there for a moment, nonplussed. Had Jirou just-? He reached out for a moment, and then retracted his hand, wheeled and stalked out of the classroom with brusque steps.
Behind him, Jirou looked up from his feigned sleep with a disappointed look.
--
Jirou missed the after school training session too.
This time, it was Choutarou, who asked if Jirou was ill. Atobe replied in a rather snippy tone. "Not that I know of. He's probably just off sleeping somewhere," he said frostily. "Drills." Gakuto, who knew perfectly well where Jirou was, at home, miserable, pursed his lips and death glared at Atobe. Atobe started the drills quickly, feeling himself under scrutiny of Gakuto's glower. Or perhaps it was his own guilty feelings.
--
Atobe walked up and down the same area as he waited, wondering if the other boy would actually turn up as he had requested. Everything, he decided, had been blown out of proportion. Probably by him, a little bit of his brain added helpfully, just before he mentally bashed that bit in with a mental plastic spoon.
A familiar blond head walked up, and Atobe suddenly felt rather foolish for hiding behind the trees, not least for getting mud all over his shoes and bottom of his trousers due to all that pacing. Jirou had turned up. The other boy sat down on the bench, and glanced at a watch, spinning his tennis racket. Atobe stepped out from behind the bench, and slid onto it. "Jirou," he started.
Jirou stood up rather abruptly and interrupted him, "Shall we move to the courts then, buchou?"
Atobe blinked for a few seconds. "Ore-sama didn't tell you to come to train," he said in a slightly less arrogant tone than usually, standing with Jirou.
The blond scratched his head, and yawned, puzzled. "Par'n? I thought you ordered me to come down 'cause I missed training and that." He glanced edgily at his captain.
"...Ore-sama didn't order you to come, Jirou. Ore-sama asked... so we could take a walk around the park." Atobe patiently endured, and wondered if his team mates honestly thought he was so flippant to order them around all the time. Did he? He thought back. Maybe, he conceded, most of the time. He started to walk, checking back to see that Jirou followed.
As Jirou did fall in step, he hid a little wonky smile. Asked indeed. "So... I'm sorry for missing practice?" he ventured, not really sure why Atobe was randomly telling- no, asking him to take a walk with him.
"Yes. Well. Ore-sama is sure you are," Atobe started, before trying to change his tone, "and... perhaps Ore-sama was a little... harsh."
Closest to an apology he would come, Jirou guessed. "Yes. I'm sure you were," he repeated Atobe's words back at him, with a little sly sideways grin. Atobe glanced at him with one perfectly plucked, raised eyebrow. Abruptly, he reached out and hooked a finger into Jirou's belt loop and yanked the boy hard towards him. Jirou collided with hands on the side of Atobe's chest with a little 'oof!' and smiled shyly. He did a cute little yawn and leant his ruffled head onto Atobe's shoulder in a pretence of tiredness.
"So... you will not miss any more training?" Atobe asked, trying to surreptitiously place his arm around Jirou's waist and being rather obvious about it.
"Nope," Jirou murmured, casually adjusting the placement of Atobe's hand.