He touches your shoulder as you lie together in bed, your back to his chest. The act in itself does not surprise you for he is often affectionate when sated and more prone to relax. Besides, he focuses on your shoulder more now that it has healed than when it was damaged and breakable. You find it ironic, but also sweet. Sweet. A word not normally associated with the captain of Hyoutei, but he is and you do.
Then he kisses your shoulder and you lean back in his arms, turning your head and tilting it up expectantly. He kisses you how you like to be kissed, swiftly and leisurely, your tongues lazily dipping into each other's mouths. It won't become anything more than a kiss, and you delight in this simple fact. What your doing isn't designed to ignite a war, you reflect, but to reconfirm love that both of you know is vast, perhaps indefinite.
But he leaves your mouth, giving you a last lick, and goes back to your shoulder. You try not to be puzzled by his behavior as his tongue traces the muscle with extreme delicacy. You are amused in spite of yourself; the tenderness he is showing towards you fills you with something not unlike gratitude but more like love.
You can deal with this as long as it doesn't go anywhere, he can express himself in this way and no doubt you enjoy his administrations, but eventually the two of you will have to talk, which is why you catch his wandering hand as it slides down your side, a little worried. He is determined not to have the conversation just yet, so he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it, again with the utmost care.
"You're exquisite," he mutters, his breath tickling your ear as he takes the tip of it in mouth, lightly biting it (You realized the first month into your relationship that he was a biter and you've learned to enjoy the slight pain which is soon overridden with pleasure). The words are said more to himself than to you. But you know he's talking to you, for you've long since realized he's not as vain as he pretends.
"Keigo," you begin, shifting your body so you are facing him and his dark cobalt eyes are all you can see as they stay trained on your face.
"I love you," he whispers.
"And I you." Your lips twist up in a smile, uncertain at where this is going.
"I love your smile," he says wistfully, almost dreamily.
"Keigo. Stop. What's this about?"
He tugs you back into his arms, gently pressing you against him. His left hand reaches downwards between your tennis toned bodies, curling and stroking, and your eyes fall shut automatically. But you stop him before he goes too far and he kisses you into oblivion; you need to talk to him about this, whatever this is.
"Atobe," you say sternly, pulling away a little out of his embrace and he lets you; the first sign that something is truly bothering him.
He stops abruptly at the use of his last name and instead links his hand with yours, placing it on your chest over your heart. His own chest is rising up and down slowly; there are no signs other than the melancholy in his eyes that give him away. His right hand comes up and curls a piece of auburn hair around his finger before smoothing it behind your ear. His hand travels down, tracing your cheek bones. He's apologizing and you forgive him at once. He runs his fingers over your lips; it's his silent promise to behave.
"I didn't kiss him back," is how the story that falls from petal soft lips begins.
Those magnificent eyes stay on you, tracking you. You lock eyes, more for his sake than for your own; staring into your eyes and maintaining a connection is very important to him. And because it's important to him, it's important to you. You might as well add that you could spend your life in his eyes.
He wants you not to look away as he tells you the facts, the details, what happened. He wants you to believe him. And you have faith that you will believe him just as strongly in the end as you do know. How could believe him at the beginning of the story, and are sure that you will continue to believe him.
"Who?" you inquire. You take pains to keep your voice steady, and this might be the hardest answer. You don't want him to ask, 'does it matter?' because you won't be able to lie. To you, it does matter. You are praying, despite your lack of belief in God, that it's not Oshitari Yuushi. You'd hate to lose him in any way shape or form, but losing him to Oshitari would be the last straw.
"Sanada."
Not what you were expecting. You're startled by this answer, your perplexity showing on your face. Your feelings are almost always more expressive without your glasses on and without a doubt always more open when you are with him.
"Show me, then," you instruct him.
He looks at you, an eyebrow cocked.
"Show me how he kissed you," you urge, patiently waiting for him. And he obliges, reaching up with his hand and placing at the back of your neck. He hesitates before leaning in, brushing his lips against yours hurriedly; it is awkward but nothing more.
You relax and probe his lips with your tongue, indicating that it is enough. He opens under you, giving you access to his body which take immediate advantage of. You'll ask the 'how' and 'why' later, for now you're satisfied and you simply take pleasure in the kiss; your relationship is still intact. You will be making a call, though; to a certain captain of Rikkai Dai who you believe is the reason for the unexplained kiss.
Atobe Keigo, arrogant and unflappable, is yours no matter which way you spin it.