Title: AtoJi Fluff Fandom: Prince of Tennis Pairing: Atobe Keigo/Akutagawa Jirou Rating: Fluff Disclaimer: Not mine. Notes: I wrote this fora friend on her birthday... it's kind of random, but whatever... it's cute. Suggestions and criticism are welcome, thank you for reading.
After five minutes of standing in the same position staring at a most inconceivable painting, Atobe Keigo turned toward the bench behind him, rubbing his temples in an attempt to rid himself of the slight headache that was forming. The sign next to the painting indicated that the art student had attempted to recreate Salvador Dali's Integration of the Persistence of Memory. Sitting on the comfortable bench, Atobe continued to contemplate the meaning of the unusual painting. He assumed the student had accomplished reproducing the original, otherwise it wouldn't be on display in the school gallery, but the paintings story still eluded him. The soft watches reminded him of Akutagawa Jirou, for some reason Atobe denied knowing, despite thinking that when Jirou got excited his eyes lit up like the gold rimming the watches. Reflecting deeply upon what the dead fish was supposed to symbolize Atobe didn't notice the sandy-haired boy sneak up on him, until he grabbed his arm, and rested his head on Atobe's shoulder.
"Ne, Atobe-sama, you must like this picture, you've been staring at it for a while now." He yawned widely, having already found a painting to write his report on. "What's the story this painting's telling?" He tilted his head slightly, wondering what the cone-shaped things that looked like rhinoceros horns were supposed to be.
Shrugging slightly, Atobe studied the painting more closely, then noticing that the sign also mentioned that the painting represented 'the psychological effect that the event of the advent of the atomic bomb had on humanity', he answered, "War and conflict, I suppose that is sensible, after all the fish was stabbed, and there are more missiles aimed for targets not shown." The more he thought about the idea, the more realistic the painting became to him. After all, when a bomb lands, that's the end for the target, time stands still, and everything dies and becomes a wasteland. Satisfied with his interpretation of the painting and confident he had enough information to write the report, he turned back to Jirou, to find that the slightly shorter boy had fallen asleep. Raising an eyebrow in mild surprise that somehow Jirou had fallen asleep with his head leaning against Atobe's legs, with their fingers intertwined, and Atobe had been oblivious to the warm body sleeping peacefully. Atobe leaned back comfortably, a slight smile playing along his lips, brushing his thumb along the back of Jirou's hand he admitted to himself that it was rather enjoyable to visit the school's art gallery occasionally.