Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis or any of its characters.

Warning: Shonen-ai one-shot. Crack pairing.

Pairing: Atobe X Horio

Prompt: Gift

A/N: I wish to thank fellow evil empire pal cirrus74 for the prompt (and the crack pairing. XD)

Persistence

By: Gwynhafra86

"I, Horio-sama with my two years tennis experience-"

No one heard the rest of the words, as by now, the whole of Seigaku tennis club had been well prepared with ear plugs. The minute Horio had opened his mouth, the rest of the club had opened their bags simultaneously, taken out their earplugs and stuffed it into their ears.

Katsuo and Kachiro gave a long suffering sigh and patted Horio on the back. "Enough, Horio-kun. Practice is starting."

Horio followed the other freshmen to their respective places, muttering unhappily to himself. "Ceh, just because all of you are a wee bit better than I am. I'll show you soon enough, my two years tennis experience."

XXX

Right after club practice, Horio headed over to the street tennis courts, eager to challenge someone...anyone to a match. He hummed to himself ("2 years 2 years") even as he walked up the stairs, though when he reached the top, he dropped his bag in surprise.

For the courts were completely empty!

That was impossible. From what Momo-senpai and that snarky Echizen had told him, the street tennis courts were always full, so why was there no one now?

He then slapped himself on the forehead when he remembered something. It was the exam period now. Of course there wouldn't be anyone. Everyone was too busy studying.

Well, that wouldn't stop him from practicing. He faced one of the walls there, threw the tennis ball up into the air, swung and missed.

It was a good thing there was no one here to watch him blush. He tried again, and the ball either landed on his head, his hand, or various parts of his anatomy. Growing increasingly frustrated, Horio threw the next ball and swung with all his might. This time, the ball hit the frame of his racket, smacked against the wall and rebounded with the force of a bullet. Horio gave a yelp and ducked, the ball zipping past his head.

There was a soft 'smack' as the ball hit someone's palm. Horio turned around to find someone else had caught the ball neatly. The person looked down at him, an arrogant smirk at the corners of his lips.

"You look like you're having fun, ahn? Is that the way to play tennis?"

Horio could feel sweat beading on his forehead. Atobe Keigo. THE Atobe Keigo, the one who had played against Tezuka-buchou and injured the Seigaku captain's shoulder. What was he doing here anyway?

Atobe gave a flick of his hair. "Yes. You should be honoured by ore-sama's presence, peasant. Let me show you the correct way to play tennis." He threw the ball up into the air and hit it effortlessly.

No matter where Atobe hit it to, he'd be able to return it perfectly, and Horio's jaw was soon hanging on the ground. Suge! Not even Echizen was at this level!

Atobe ended the game when he caught the tennis ball with his left hand once more, and he casually tossed the racket and ball back to Horio. "You're still 20, 000 years too early to beat me, ahn."

Horio clutched his racket, feeling extremely awed. Atobe, THE Atobe Keigo had done a demonstration before him...and more importantly, THE Atobe Keigo had been using his racket. He didn't think he'd ever change his grip tape, ever again.

"Anou...thank you very much for your demonstration!" Horio gave a bow.

Atobe halted and turned around, pinning him with an arrogant stare. "A demonstration? Don't get me wrong. Ore-sama was bored, and I was only showing you your inferiority, peasant."

The diva walked off, leaving a smitten Horio behind. "He...he's so cool..."

XXX

"Atobe...isn't that boy the same one we saw a few days back?" Oshitari asked.

Atobe threw a glance through the corner of his eyes and had to repress a sigh. For days now, Horio Satoshi had been popping up at random times, either to just stare at him, or to talk to him when he was alone. Seeing that he had company (Oshitari), Horio had kept his distance.

Atobe took a sip of his coffee. This was one extremely troublesome...albeit persistent fan. In fact, as much as Atobe was trying to ignore the bloke and drink his coffee, his staring was making it very uncomfortable for him to do so. Atobe placed his cup delicately on its saucer and rose from his seat.

"Ore-sama will be taking my leave now. Pass the word to the others regarding what we have discussed today."

"So soon? Nanya...you have barely even touched your drink." Oshitari muttered. Atobe was already out the door by then though.

Atobe took the route towards one of his private clubs. He knew, even without looking back, that Horio was trailing after him. The diva walked on, deliberately giving off the impression that he had not noticed Horio so far. He turned around a corner, and leaned back against the wall, waiting for his stalker to pass. Surely enough, Horio hadn't noticed him, and had walked on before he realized just where Atobe was.

"Just what do you think you're doing, following me like that?" Atobe demanded.

Horio's face flushed slightly. "A-anou...I haven't been able to thank you properly that day..."

Before Horio could finish, Atobe waved him off. "Ore-sama has already mentioned it before. That wasn't a demonstration, peasant. I was bored. End of story."

"It doesn't matter. I still want to thank you. Eto...can I treat you to lunch?"

Atobe stared down at Horio, who was becoming an incredible shade of red. He must have heard him wrongly. That peasant...treat him, Atobe Keigo, to lunch...Atobe had to suppress the urge to laugh out loud. Just what was this peasant thinking? Atobe didn't need anyone to treat him to lunch. Heck, he could buy the whole restaurant if he wanted to.

Still, Atobe had to give him credit for being so persistent. There was rarely anyone who could grate on Atobe's nerves like that (sans Echizen). He wanted nothing more than to get rid of this fanboy.

"Ore-sama will consider it. If you can hit ten shots in a row without missing a single one, ore-sama will let you...treat ore-sama to lunch."

He had tried to rephrase his words, but the meaning was still the same. 'No thank you. Ore-sama don't want to see you again."

Horio, however, didn't get the underlying message, and his eyes lit up like the sun. "Really? Hai! I'll do my best!" The boy then sprinted off, leaving the diva staring bemusedly at him.

XXX

Atobe had convinced himself that there was no way Horio Satoshi could possibly hit ten shots in a row. He had seen the boy's practice before, and heck, Atobe himself could play better at the age of 4.

Horio did not look for him for several days, and Atobe enjoyed the peace. It was impossible for that guy, and maybe he had finally given up. Just when he was heading back home, passing by the street tennis courts again, he could hear the distinctive sounds of someone hitting against the wall.

Walking closer, he could see Horio's short form, hitting against the wall repeatedly. Tennis balls were strewn all over the courts, and Atobe couldn't help wondering just how long he'd been here. He threw a glance at his watch. It was nearly midnight!

"...7, 8, 9..." Horio counted aloud. He fumbled at the last shot, and missed the swing. The ball fell to the ground with a soft thud.

Horio fell on his knees, wiping at his face. "It's no use. I can't reach 10 shots after all...if only I had Tezuka-buchou or Echizen's power...at this rate...I'd never be able to ask Atobe out."

Said diva was hidden behind one of the trees, listening to Horio's sobs. He gave a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his grey locks. Takku...he had broken many hearts before, but he hated it if anyone cried before him. Not wanting to remain here anymore, Atobe left quietly, Horio's sobs haunting his steps.

XXX

Atobe had been in a rather gloomy mood after that. Oshitari knew that it must have something to do with a certain brown-haired ichinen, who was missing in action recently, but he wisely kept quiet. The other regulars threw the Hyotei captain a worried stare, but said nothing more.

Right after Atobe had dismissed everyone, Horio had appeared suddenly, panting and looking like he had just run all the way to Hyotei.

"Atobe-buchou!!! I've finally managed to complete it!" He hollered on the top of his voice, causing everyone to wince.

Atobe seemed to have brightened up a little at the sight of him. "Oh? Very well, you may give ore-sama a demonstration then."

Everyone watched as the first year began hitting tennis balls against the wall. "...6, 7, 8, 9, 10...oops!" He missed at the 11th shot, causing sweatdrops to break out on everyone's heads.

To all their surprise, however, Atobe began to laugh. The diva walked over, and, to everyone's surprise, started clapping. Atobe's cheering squad followed his lead, and the regulars reluctantly did so too, though they really couldn't understand what was there to clap about if the guy missed the shot.

"I give up. You're one very persistent peasant. Very well. Ore-sama will meet you tomorrow for lunch."

His announcement caused everyone's jaws to drop, while Horio beamed. "You...you can't be serious, Atobe." Gakuto was the first to speak up.

"Ore-sama is not one to go against my own words, ahn. Right, Kabaji?"

"Usu." Was the customary reply.

Atobe smirked, then turned back to Horio. "Follow me." He led the way out of the courts, ignoring his regulars' (minus Oshitari) stunned gazes.

He reached the clubroom and retrieved one of his rackets. Straightening up, he handed the racket to Horio.

"For me?" Horio asked.

"Aa. Consider it a prize, peasant, for your persistence. You should be honoured to receive something from me." Atobe boasted, not admitting that it was his way of apology for putting Horio through that hellish self-training.

Horio's eyes were filled with tears. "Arigatou...this is one of the best gifts I've ever received."

Atobe smirked again. "That's of course. Not every peasant can hold ore-sama's racket, let alone posssess it. You should be honoured." He ended that sentence by ruffling Horio's hair.

Horio gave a grin. "Hai! I, Horio-sama with my two years tennis experience, will always treasure this gift."

::End::

Please Read and Review. No Flames Please

-Gwyn