Title: Sick Days
Series: "Prince of Tennis"
Pairing: AtoJih
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I may have a hell of an ego, but I'm yet to attain the rights to this series. Imagine that.
Summery: Atobe is fussy, and tempermental. But you knew that already. Only now he has a cold. Gift fic!
Atobe had always had a flare for dramatics. Even now, with his nose slightly red from abusive blowing, he made conscience effort to look both vulnerable and elusive. After all, one could never know when one might be required to come in contact with others.
It was never easy being a born leader.
An excellent tactic, as Kabaji returned from investigating the ringing of the doorbell leading along with him the least-obtrusive Hyoutei member, Jiroh.
Jiroh yawned deep, rubbing at his left eye, his other arm stretched high above his head. His back arched as the whole thing concluded with his arms resting behind his head, elbows awkwardly stuck out.
"Yo."
Atobe could not help but fix the boy with an incredulous look; had someone dumped him, fast asleep on the doorstep then rung the bell and run?
"You take a really long time to answer the door, y'know? Almost dozed off waiting."
Ah.
"You missed class today."
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
"So I brought you the homework."
I sent Kabaji for my homework.
"Teacher said s'mthing about not trusting Frankenstein to get it home."
Ah.
Jiroh's brow crinkled in concentration as he slung the bag off his shoulders and rooted around inside, "And I figured you were sick, there has been this cold going around..." He found a thick white notebook and set it aside (it had been white at one time, in any case, its cover was now marred with idle doodles in black-blue ball point pen). "So, I would have just brought th' homework over after practice, but I wanted to bring you something!"
Jiroh, if Atobe recalled correctly (as if there were doubt he was), lived in entirely the opposite direction from Hyoutei. What could be worth so much trouble was entirely beyond him.
With a triumphant sound, Jiroh whipped some lumpy-shaped pale blue object from his bag.
"Here it is!"
"...It's a blanket."
"Yeah!"
"It has sheep on it."
Jiroh laughed, "Yeah... my dad got it for me in America when he went there for some convention or other when I was a kid. Isn't it cute?"
"Adorable."
Jiroh laughed again. He had a rich laugh, at least when he was awake, and it reminded Atobe of hot chocolate, liquid and sweet. With a sudden motion he tossed the blanket across Atobe's bed, "I figured maybe it would make you feel better! I brought some crackers, too. I would've gotten better but they were all we had in the pantry, really. I guess we haven't been grocery shopping in a while..."
Jiroh continued on talking, and producing things out of his bag. Atobe could not help but panic, just slightly at the... the *thing* laying a top his expensive Egyptian cotton sheets. He couldn't even fully identify the material of it, or the musky smell emitting from it.
"Kinda reeks." Jiroh muttered, in almost psychic response, through a mouthful of crackers (a spray of crumbs accompanying it), "It's been packed away for a while, you know that smell old clothes and stuff can get." he swallowed, and grinned sheepishly, "Hey, can I get a drink or something? I forgot to bring anything with me."
Ah, how could Atobe forget his hosting skills? he snapped his fingers "Kabaji! Bring me another orange juice and one for Jiroh as well."
Juice and crackers. He nearly smacked his forehead. He was Keigo Atobe, respected leader of 200. Yet here he was, with a gaudy sheep-covered blanket eating juice and crackers.
"I hope I'm not bothering you." Jiroh fidgeted a little in his spot on the floor, where he'd planted himself after clearing out his bag, "I know I like company when I'm sick and all, gets boring and...kinda gloomy, y'know?"
He HAD gone through a lot of trouble to visit, this blond-haired boy, leafing through a notebook purposefully, just to avoid looking up. The thought behind it all did have a rather endearing quality, for those who liked such things.
Atobe slid out of the bed down onto the floor next to Jiroh, pulling the blanket with him. "It is nice." he leaned over, maintaining all the grace he could and carefully kissed him, gently on the cheek. He really didn't want the cold spreading through his team. He could feel the skin warm under his lips as Jiroh blushed a deep red.
"A...Atobe!"
Atobe laughed as he stood up, ruffling Jiroh's hair, "You can visit anytime."
--owari
Series: "Prince of Tennis"
Pairing: AtoJih
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I may have a hell of an ego, but I'm yet to attain the rights to this series. Imagine that.
Summery: Atobe is fussy, and tempermental. But you knew that already. Only now he has a cold. Gift fic!
Atobe had always had a flare for dramatics. Even now, with his nose slightly red from abusive blowing, he made conscience effort to look both vulnerable and elusive. After all, one could never know when one might be required to come in contact with others.
It was never easy being a born leader.
An excellent tactic, as Kabaji returned from investigating the ringing of the doorbell leading along with him the least-obtrusive Hyoutei member, Jiroh.
Jiroh yawned deep, rubbing at his left eye, his other arm stretched high above his head. His back arched as the whole thing concluded with his arms resting behind his head, elbows awkwardly stuck out.
"Yo."
Atobe could not help but fix the boy with an incredulous look; had someone dumped him, fast asleep on the doorstep then rung the bell and run?
"You take a really long time to answer the door, y'know? Almost dozed off waiting."
Ah.
"You missed class today."
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
"So I brought you the homework."
I sent Kabaji for my homework.
"Teacher said s'mthing about not trusting Frankenstein to get it home."
Ah.
Jiroh's brow crinkled in concentration as he slung the bag off his shoulders and rooted around inside, "And I figured you were sick, there has been this cold going around..." He found a thick white notebook and set it aside (it had been white at one time, in any case, its cover was now marred with idle doodles in black-blue ball point pen). "So, I would have just brought th' homework over after practice, but I wanted to bring you something!"
Jiroh, if Atobe recalled correctly (as if there were doubt he was), lived in entirely the opposite direction from Hyoutei. What could be worth so much trouble was entirely beyond him.
With a triumphant sound, Jiroh whipped some lumpy-shaped pale blue object from his bag.
"Here it is!"
"...It's a blanket."
"Yeah!"
"It has sheep on it."
Jiroh laughed, "Yeah... my dad got it for me in America when he went there for some convention or other when I was a kid. Isn't it cute?"
"Adorable."
Jiroh laughed again. He had a rich laugh, at least when he was awake, and it reminded Atobe of hot chocolate, liquid and sweet. With a sudden motion he tossed the blanket across Atobe's bed, "I figured maybe it would make you feel better! I brought some crackers, too. I would've gotten better but they were all we had in the pantry, really. I guess we haven't been grocery shopping in a while..."
Jiroh continued on talking, and producing things out of his bag. Atobe could not help but panic, just slightly at the... the *thing* laying a top his expensive Egyptian cotton sheets. He couldn't even fully identify the material of it, or the musky smell emitting from it.
"Kinda reeks." Jiroh muttered, in almost psychic response, through a mouthful of crackers (a spray of crumbs accompanying it), "It's been packed away for a while, you know that smell old clothes and stuff can get." he swallowed, and grinned sheepishly, "Hey, can I get a drink or something? I forgot to bring anything with me."
Ah, how could Atobe forget his hosting skills? he snapped his fingers "Kabaji! Bring me another orange juice and one for Jiroh as well."
Juice and crackers. He nearly smacked his forehead. He was Keigo Atobe, respected leader of 200. Yet here he was, with a gaudy sheep-covered blanket eating juice and crackers.
"I hope I'm not bothering you." Jiroh fidgeted a little in his spot on the floor, where he'd planted himself after clearing out his bag, "I know I like company when I'm sick and all, gets boring and...kinda gloomy, y'know?"
He HAD gone through a lot of trouble to visit, this blond-haired boy, leafing through a notebook purposefully, just to avoid looking up. The thought behind it all did have a rather endearing quality, for those who liked such things.
Atobe slid out of the bed down onto the floor next to Jiroh, pulling the blanket with him. "It is nice." he leaned over, maintaining all the grace he could and carefully kissed him, gently on the cheek. He really didn't want the cold spreading through his team. He could feel the skin warm under his lips as Jiroh blushed a deep red.
"A...Atobe!"
Atobe laughed as he stood up, ruffling Jiroh's hair, "You can visit anytime."
--owari