First off, Happy Birthday Atobe! ^_^ Here is the first chapter of my Adorable Pair story! Okay, a few things first, this is an AU story so there are changes, the main one being the ages of the characters. In this chapter:

Jiroh, Gakuto, Eiji, Fuji: sixteen (Fuji is technically four though)

Atobe, Oshitari: twenty-one

Marui, Niou, Yagyuu: seventeen

Kirihara, Hiyoshi: fifteen

Yanagi, Sanada, Yukimura: around nineteen or twenty, same as Tezuka and Inui though no mention of the two of them in this chapter at all.

That's all for this chapter. Other stuff isn't really too important except that only some of them play tennis.

Props go to my friend xxTemarixx for Yagyuu's shirt! Also, I do have a prologue for this up called Why Is Kissing Special? about Gakuto and Jiroh. This is also the prologue/spin off of my Dirty Pair stories if you care at all.This will be Rated M! So if you don't think you can handle it, please don't read.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the plot, nya!

Okay, I think that's it. Any questions, feel free to ask!

Please read and review, nya! ^_^

The theme song for this story is Kio no Gekidasa Ecstacy sung by Fuji, Shishido, Chitose, and Shiraishi.

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Chapter One

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Jiroh yawned and laid his head onto his desk, fighting to stay awake to listen to Nanikawa-sensei, but—sadly—he just wasn't in the mood for a history lesson.

His parents had fought again the night before and he couldn't get to sleep because of it, which was saying something with him being narcoleptic. The sixteen year old whimpered quietly as the "loud, passionate conversation"—as his parents liked it to be called—replayed in his head.

"You bitch!" the sound of glass breaking echoed up from down stairs as the sixteen year old boy covered his head with his feathery pillow. "Just how long have you been sleeping around behind my back?!"

"What are you talking about? I slept with him once, unlike you who has slept with his secretary more then I'm able to count!"

Jiroh shook his head against the cool surface of the wood.

He heard the sound of skin slapping skin and bit his lip from his parents hearing his cries.

"You will not talk to me like that! I am your husband and you are my wife! A wife obeys her husband and doesn't fight back!"

"Stop! Stop! Stop—"

"Stop!"

"Akutagawa-kun? Akutagawa-kun wake up."

"Hey, Jiroh, dude, wake up." Someone shook him and he blinked his eyes open to see his redheaded friend looking at him concerned, the rest of the class behind him.

He looked down at his folded hands. "Sensei, may I go to the nurse?"

The forty-something year old man looked at him behind horned-rimmed glasses for a second before finally nodded.

He hurriedly packed up his stuff and nearly ran out of the room, hearing his friend ask, "May I go with him, sensei?" before rushing off down the hall, ignoring the loud footsteps following him.

"Jiroh, hey Jiroh, wait up!" The redhead caught up to him and stood just to his right. "Did they fight again?" He nodded, the dancer sighed. "You need to get out of that house, Jiroh."

The sunset haired boy rubbed his eyes free of tears. "Stop it Gakuto, it's none of your business." Gakuto looked gob smacked.

"You're my best friend; of course it's my business." He stated, slightly offended.

Jiroh looked at him, before breaking into a small smile and stopping in the middle of the hall. The shorter boy stopped with him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You've been great support. It's just," he stared out of the window next to them into the sunny afternoon. "It's my family and…" he shook his head and continued down the hall, Gakuto walking along beside him. "I don't know."

Gakuto gave a sad smile. "Things will get better." He said, trying to believe himself but not being able to.

He laughed. "Thanks for trying anyways." He yawned. "I'm so tired."

Gakuto pulled him to the bench off to the side of the hall. "You didn't sleep any did you?" Jiroh shook his head and yawned again. "That's not good." He said quietly.

The redhead bit his lip. "I'd walk you home but I've got dance practice, that stupid idiot from Seigaku is going to be coming." He huffed and crossed his arms. "I don't get it, I'm a much better dancer then Kikumaru and yet he was chosen as sensei's assistant, not me. What am I doing that is wrong, Jiroh?"

Jiroh frowned for a second.

"Well," he started unsurely. "I did hear that Kikumaru-kun was best friends with you're sensei's nephew. Have you ever heard of Fuji Syuusuke-kun?" He asked curiously as Gakuto gaped.

"Yes! He takes pictures of us sometimes for our website! Sensei is a traitor." He hissed angrily before pouting. "No fair!"

Jiroh patted his friend's head which made Gakuto lean into the comforting touch. "If it helps you any, I think you're the right choice." Jiroh smiled at Gakuto who shifted himself so that his head was lying on the older boy's shoulder and Jiroh's arm was around him. "You are so much better then that Kikumaru-kun."

Gakuto blushed and looked down at his hands. "Really?" he asked shyly, nervous fluttering in his stomach.

The narcoleptic nodded, grinning. "Really," the redhead looked up, noticing their faces were mere inches away before standing suddenly, causing Jiroh to frown in confusion.

He swallowed, looking down at his shoes and folding his hands behind his back like an embarrassed grade schooler. Gakuto's cheeks flamed a dark red to match his hair. "Uh, I think the bell is going to ring soon, Jiroh. We should probably get going before a horde of students come and run us over, don't 'ya think?" he averted his eyes to the ceiling and scratched the back of his neck.

Jiroh stood. "I guess you're right." He yawned. "I've got to go pick something up from the Sweet Shoppe anyways." He nodded matter-of-factly.

Gakuto looked worried. "Are you sure you'll be okay walking by yourself, Jiroh? Because I can call and say I'm going to be a little late if you want me to walk with you. It'll be fine if I do so."

"Thank you," he smiled at his shorter friend. "But I'll be fine Gakuto. And you can't always put dancing off to be with me, dancing is important to you, right? What was that?" he asked as Gakuto mumbled something under his breath.

The redhead shook his head and looked up, giving a "convincing" smile. "It was nothing. If you're sure…"

"I'm sure,"

-

Jiroh just couldn't stop yawning. Now, this was mostly normal for the narcoleptic but this time he felt that something was off. He was never tired going to the Sweet Shoppe because that meant he got to see Marui.

Marui Bunta was seventeen and went to Rikkai Dai Fuzoku awhile away from Hyoutei, so Jiroh never got to see him. His family owned the shop and he himself was learning to be a pastier, and Jiroh must say, that from the sweets and deserts he had tasted that the older boy made, his dream would definitely come true.

He saw Marui-san as his idol, just as Gakuto saw the singer Oshitari Yuushi as his idol. The pink haired boy was always so nice to him whenever he came to the shop and sometimes even gave him a free sample of his latest yummy edible (not that he would let anybody know that). The sixteen year old absolutely loved him.

But it was strictly platonic… he thinks so anyways.

Jiroh smiled as he entered the Sweet Shoppe and waved to the pink haired teen behind the counter who nodded back before finishing up what he was doing for his costumer.

He sat at the oak counter in the spot facing Marui as the woman left.

A hand ruffled his hair. "Hey Jiroh, how're you doing? Haven't seen you for a few weeks." He blew a bubble with his green colored gum.

He rested his head on his hand. "I've been as fine as can be expected. Gakuto has an audition next month for a street group, that's really sugoi!" he nodded.

Marui gave a small smile and nodded himself. "Okay, you don't have to tell me how you're really doing." the apprentice pastier continued before Jiroh had a chance to interrupt. "What was it you wanted?"

Jiroh sighed. "Just some of your fabulous chocolate cake, please Marui-kun?" he smiled charmingly.

The pastier laughed. "Okay," as he went to get the cake the door of the shop slammed open and they both turned to see a narrowed eyed boy holding another boy but the scruff of his neck.

The golden haired boy threw the other one away from him. "Marui-san, can you please tell this brat to stop following me every where?"

Marui popped his gum and stared at the one pouting on his chair. "Kirihara, why are you following Hiyoshi-san?"

The "brat" twisted in the chair, looking like an innocent, wide-eyed child. "But Marui-senpai!" he whined pointing at Hiyoshi. "He's being mean to me!"

"Hiyoshi-kun?" Jiroh asked.

The first year's eyes snapped over to the narcoleptic boy before they widened slightly and he bowed in a hurry. "Sumimasen, Akutagawa-senpai, for disturbing you."

Jiroh smiled and waved it off. "Its fine Hiyoshi-kun, you weren't disturbing me."

Straitening up, the golden haired boy threw a glare at Kirihara. "Don't follow me." He ordered before stalking out of the shop.

Kirihara went to stand but a hand grabbed the back of his jacket. "Wakashi! Don't leave me! Gghf!" Marui sat him down in front of him, staring at him while he blew another bubble.

It popped.

He shook his head in amusement. "Shouldn't you be at practice Kirihara?" The wild haired boy drew a circle on the counter and mumbled something.

"What was that?"

He averted his eyes. "Well… it's nothing, besides, we don't have practice today as we're getting ready for Yukimura-sama, Sanada-sama, and Yanagi-sama to visit next week." His eyes shown as he stared off into the far wall. "I can't believe I'll actually get to meet them! They're legend you know! The Three Demons of Rikkai they were called when they were still in school." He grinned and looked back up at his senpai. "They're only the best tennis players in this whole world!" he nodded and smiled softly. "I'll beat them someday, I will."

Marui and Jiroh exchanged a look at the matter-of-fact tone this was said in. "They're really strong, you know, Kirihara." Marui stated carefully.

The green-eyed boy looked at him. "You don't think I can?"

He shook his head. "I didn't say that."

Kirihara glared. "But that's what you meant! I'll show everyone! One day, I will beat them! All three of them! I'll have them down on their knees pleading for mercy when I'm through with them!" He grinned. "And it'll be the best moment of my life… right after Wakashi says yes to going out to me."

The pink haired boy snickered. "I think you have more of a chance beating the'Three Demons' then Hiyoshi-san saying yes to you."

He sneered. "You've no confidence in your kouhai, do you senpai?"

He raised his brow. "In you?" he shook his head. "Nope." His gum popped.

Kirihara bowed his head. "Senpai is mean." His head shot back up. "Oh, and Niou-buchou is coming over and let's just say that… fukubuchou is mad at him." He looked nervous at the thought.

Jiroh looked curious. "Mad?" from the few encounters he had with the guy, Yagyuu-san seemed to be very level headed and not one to get mad easy.

Marui fought off a small grin. "What did Niou do?" but just as he asked, the door to the shop opened and he had to duck behind the counter to keep from laughing as Jiroh chocked on his own saliva and Kirihara snickered behind his hand.

The Hyoutei student was shocked.

"Like my shirt?" Niou grinned, seeing him stare.

Jiroh blushed.

Yagyuu adjusted his glasses. "Niou-kun, please let me change out of this ridiculous shirt. It's embarrassing."

Niou took a step closer to him. "Oh, is my Hiroshi-kun embarrassed by me?" he giggled like a school girl and pushed down the purple haired boy's glasses, getting his hand slapped away in the process. "That's so cute."

Marui got his composure back and stood up, staring at the shirt. "'Wide Receiver'," he read causing Kirihara—who had just calmed down—to start laughing again and turning red. Even Jiroh looked ready to break down.

He looked up at Niou in amusement. "Is there a reason that your shirt says that, Niou?"

The rat-tailed boy tugged Yagyuu toward him and placed a hand on his fukubuchou's chest. Yagyuu decided not to fight him, knowing it was useless.

"Have you read my dear 'Roshi's shirt yet?" His eyes sparkled.

Marui bit his lip and snickered.

Jiroh read it. "Gentle" man. He tilted his head. He didn't get… he turned his head and let out a snort before turning back, a slight smirk on his face.

"Niou-kun forced me," Yagyuu stated as an explanation.

"Why didn't you stop him, Yagyuu-fukubuchou?" Kirihara asked, his eyes shining just as mischievously as Niou.

Something told Jiroh that he already knew.

Yagyuu's glasses flashed and his lips twitched upwards slightly. "Because I'm a gentleman."

They snorted and Niou threw and arm over the other boy's shoulders, smacking a kiss on his cheek. Yagyuu grimaced slightly, though Jiroh could swear he saw him smile.

"Haven't I trained my 'Roshi well?" he twirled the other boy's purple hair.

If Jiroh could see Yagyuu's eyes he was sure he would see him roll them.

Marui set something down in front of him. "Here's your cake Jiroh-kun. Sorry for the wait, I got distracted." He shot Niou and Kirihara a look, popping his gum.

"That's fine," he said, taking the cake and waving goodbye. "See you later, Marui-san. Bye," he said to everyone else before making his way out of the shop.

-

Yawning, Jiroh made his way through the rapidly emptying park as the sky darkened to purple and blue. During the whole time at Marui's he found himself a little more awake but still tired, and now that he was outside and by himself once more, he was just as tired as he had been at schooled.

He rubbed his eyes and gave another yawn.

Jiroh loved to sleep, but it was times like these that he hated his narcolepsy.

Sitting down on a bench under one of the many trees on the lot, Jiroh leaned his head back and closed his eyes, hoping that he would not fall asleep. But he found this difficult as he lay down. The warmth of the air and the soothing sounds of crickets starting up, the breeze of the wind was all too much relaxing and he slowly let his mind be pulled away into sleep.

"No! You will listen to Ore-sama!" A hand slammed down onto a desk, papers flying everywhere with the force of it. "When compared to an Atobe you are a mere insect, a worthless little fly that is just buzzing around trying not to get squished. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The man cowering in the chair nodded, gulping.

The silver haired man smirked. "Good, now you will do as this Atobe says and get me those damn papers!" There was silence as the man in the chair nodded again but was too frightened to move.

His boss stared harder at him and motioned towards the door. "Now,"

He stood in a hurry and moved backwards, in the process, knocking the chair to the floor and falling to the ground. "Yes Atobe-sama, I'm sorry Atobe-sama, I will get you those papers." He mumbled nervously, picking up the chair and setting it back into its place before bending and re-organizing his manila envelope before running from the room in fright.

Atobe stood there, looking after him, one hand still placed onto his expensive desk, other placed on his hip, before sighing and making his way to the window.

The golden haze covering the horizon made the place seem beautiful as the sky darkened and the city lights shone brightly.

He snorted and removed something from his pocket; an old fashioned American coin that his… friend—for lack of a better word—had sent him.

Throwing it up, he watched it spin for a few seconds before snatching it out of the air and looking at it.

"Tails, again, damn." He fisted his hand, glanced out the window into the now completely black sky and stormed across his office, throwing the coin behind him, and grabbing his jacket.

As he walked from the room, hands clung to his arm.

He raised his eyebrows at the scantly clothed girl.

"Atobe-sama," she bat her eye's "attractively". "Are you going somewhere?"

The silver haired man fought off a sigh of annoyance. "Yes, actually, Ore-sama is going for a walk." He stated, pointedly looking down at his arm.

She didn't get the message and clung onto him harder, pressing her bosom into his side.

Atobe grimaced.

"Did you want some company Atobe-sama?" She asked hopefully and at the same time trying to sound seductive. To him it just made her repulsive.

He wasn't interested in that kind of women.

He looked over her head. "If Ore-sama wanted company, you certainly wouldn't be my first choice." He bluntly said, causing the girl to let him go and look down-crested. The phone rang.

"Shouldn't you be answering Ore-sama's phone in stead of standing here, feeling sorry for yourself?" He pointed over to the machine.

"Uh, hai, Atobe-sama."

Stalking over to the door while putting on his jacket, he threw over his shoulder at her as he opened the door, "And what are you wearing? Ore-sama is paying you to answer his phones, not to whore yourself."

Slamming the door shut behind him, he exited the building out into the cool night air.

Brushing his silver hair away from his eyes, Atobe held his head high, ignoring the many awed looks he was receiving from the few people still travelling the streets. The heir was used to getting these looks all throughout his life, no matter where he lived, be it France or Japan. All they did was make his well earned ego grow all the more.

His cell phone rang to the tone of Tango music.

Taking it out of his jacket pocket, he flipped it open and held it to his ear.

"Mushi mushi,"

"Ah, Atobe, you actually answered, I'm surprised." A deep voice said on the other end of the phone.

Atobe glanced at his watch. "Oshitari? Why are you calling Ore-sama? Isn't it early there still?" He could almost see the singer nod.

"About seven-thirty in the morning, yes." Atobe heard the sound of something being whispered. He rolled his eyes. Oshitari and his flirting ways would never change.

When he heard a quiet moan he pulled his phone away from him and looked at it in disgust before putting it back to his ear. "Please tell Ore-sama that you are not doing what I think you're doing, Oshitari."

Another moan.

"Then I shall not tell your magnificence anything."

Skin smacking on skin.

He stopped in the middle of the walkway and closed his eyes. "Oshitari, that is disgusting, Ore-sama is afraid that whatever you had to say to Ore-sama must wait."

"Atobe, hold on a sec—"

He snapped his phone shut and dropped it back into his jacket pocket.

Shaking his head at his "friend" he entered the park that he happened to stop in front of and headed over towards an empty bench.

When he saw a package filled with some kind of sweet (he recognized the packaging as the local Sweet Shoppe's) abandoned on the bench he looked around but found no person within the distance who could be a possible owner.

Walking on past the bench he let his mind wander, but it didn't wander too far before he heard the sound of struggles coming from behind a group of dense trees.

"Stop," a voice said, probably a teenage boy.

"Oh, but you're so pretty for a boy, like a newborn pup, I like pups." Atobe wrinkled his nose, smelling the alcohol from his distance away.

He shook his head. What was he thinking about?

Atobe edged closer to the woods.

"Please, just let me go… I'll give you… I'll give you money, whatever you want. I go to Hyoutei!"

Hyoutei? His eyes narrowed. That was his school.

"I don't give a crap what school you go to, kid."

"No, listen," the teen said desperately. "It's a very expensive school, I have money, I can pay you, just let me go!"

Atobe looked offended. No, nobody—even if they were in trouble—would use Hyoutei as a way to escape.

-

Jiroh struggled against the large arms gripping at him, trying not to gag at the horrible smell mix of Sake, tobacco, and vomit.

The man snorted. "I already said I don't care about your fucking school and I don't want money." He smirked nastily and leaned down, hot breath making its way onto Jiroh's face. "I want this."

The narcoleptic jumped at the feel of a hand on his butt and hugged his arms to his chest, backing up further into the tree.

Reaching behind his back, the big man pulled a knife causing Jiroh to slip down and cower on the cold ground, eyes wide in fright.

He bent down over the sixteen year old, leering at him.

"You're such a beauty," he whispered, running the knife down Jiroh's cheek.

Eyeing the said knife, Jiroh's breathing picked up, praying that someone would come along. He should have listened to Gakuto and had him walk with him; this would never have happened if he had just been smart.

But he never had been the sharpest tool in the tool shed out of his friends.

He closed his eyes and waited for whatever to happen, happen.

"Ore-sama says you should leave before he calls the police." Wait, who was that?

Jiroh looked up and opened his eyes, gasping when he saw a stranger had taken the knife from the man and was staring threateningly at him.

Sneering, the man taunted, "And what'll 'ya do if I don't?"

The stranger smirked. "Harrison Michael, right? Born American and moved here with your family when you were four, your wife recently left you and you are now bitter. Am I correct?"

"Harrison Michael" looked shocked. "How… how do you know all of that?"

"You work for ore-sama's father." The man said simply. "And if you don't get out of here now, Ore-sama will see that you are out of a job." Before he could even get the sentence completely out of his mouth, Harrison went running from the park.

"He will still be out of work after Ore-sama talks with his father." He looked down at the boy. "Are you okay?"

No answer.

"Ore-sama said are you okay and Ore-sama expects you to answer him!" He commanded roughly.

Jiroh stared up with him, eyes starting to glaze over, head feeling slightly heavy before his body fell to the ground in a dead faint.

"Ore-sama" stared. "Shit," he cursed.

Now what was he supposed to do?

-

TBC