Title: Lessons
Section: Fanfiction
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Light Angst; Pointlessness
Pairing(s): Atobe x Fuji x Atobe
Disclaimer: Tennis no Oujisama belongs to Konomi Takeshi-sensei.
Author's Notes: Ah, another pairing that I love. This time around, I'm writing it as realistically as possible. Though I may be off by probably a long shot, I think this is readable enough. I'm not sure how long this will turn out to be though.
Lesson 1
It was true that Atobe "Oresama" Keigo never had any time for anyone but himself. But years of living with his demanding, high maintenance partner, also his house mate, and occasional lover taught him the value of learning how to cope with different situations that involved him actually shelling out time for someone else.
He had lots of money and prestige, but they never bought him lessons on how to deal with this particular human being. Learning to deal with his boyfriend was more of a tougher job than anyone expected.
Of course, not that anyone had expected the bocchama of the Atobe household to turn out gay. That, indeed, was quite a surprise. And as his boyfriend put it, "I'd imagine that your father would have a heart attack." and indeed, that prophecy proved to be correct, though missed the mark by a bit. Atobe Senior had been hospitalized for three days after having a dramatic increase in blood pressure. Technically not a heart attack, but close enough.
But eventually Atobe Senior had relented. His headstrong, arrogant son had his own choices, after all. And the rich and elite would never resort to the awful levels of the commoners – weeping and lamenting, visits to the psychiatrists they couldn't afford, and even chasing their offspring out of the household. The rich and elite held their heads up high.
And so Atobe Junior had received his blessings from his family. And he was contented, and rather satisfied that he had gotten his own way with things with little fuss.
But there was another problem. Atobe Keigo's supposed 'boyfriend' wasn't really his boyfriend – yet.
Fuji Syusuke always viewed the notion of the flamboyant Atobe courting him as a matter of amusement. He was, of course, extremely flattered, but really, the prodigy wasn't called a prodigy for nothing. Who in their sane mind would actually let Atobe have his way with them? Homosexual or not, the relationship would be severely one-sided if Atobe ever decided to exercise his whims even every now and then. Plus he was high-maintenance, arrogant, narcissistic, and wouldn't prove to be such a good prospect for the future.
And the fact that sadism would never go well with flamboyancy.
If Fuji was one thing, Atobe was not. Opposites did attract, but the sparks created would have easily turned into an explosion that would drag them in and char their asses to a smoking scrap. While Fuji took sure risks with calculated returns, Atobe took calculated risks with sure returns. Their relationship would be similar; yet not.
But yet years later (four, to be specific), they were living together in a quaint little house down an influential neighbourhood around the Tokyo residential area. Atobe had made indistinct noises about the size of the house and lack of servants, at first, but Fuji had turned a deaf ear. And Atobe knew it was all about the give-take situations.
There were bright yellow flowers poking up from all the fertile soil placed in long plastic pots, placed along the empty space that wrapped around a thin path of concrete leading up the front door of the house. Rows upon rows of the flowers were flanked by pots upon pots of cactuses of varying shape and colours, and it did seem a bit messy, albeit in an artistic way.
Atobe, who could never stand the sight of his hands getting dirty, had announced the entire project of beautifying the house front as a complete waste of time, and Fuji had simply smiled and handed a shopping list for gardening supplies to his boyfriend, which in turn, was discreetly passed over to Atobe's personal assistant.
As the days went by, Fuji and Atobe had learned the intricate twists and turns with dealing with one another's whims and habits. Every three weeks or so they would argue about incredibly trivial things that made them look like two little boys arguing over who was stronger, and with each disagreement they would learn how it was to forgive the other. And each passing day they learned valuable lessons, like Atobe knew that Fuji liked holding hands, while Fuji knew that Atobe loved surprise gifts.
Plus the sex was great.