He was startled by the sudden knocking on the door... Chapter4
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He was startled by the sudden knocking on the door.
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Atobe?
No, Atobe wouldn't knock like that.
Atobe never knocked in the first place (it was probably an exception made especially for the other).
Atobe would just open the door with his spare key, and waltz in as if he owned the room, without any consideration whatsoever for the occupant inside, namely Tezuka, which had resulted in somewhat awkward situations for the stiff, bespectacled boy on more occasions than one when said bespectacled, ex-captain of Seigaku would be caught changing.
Tezuka had contemplated requesting a change of roommates, but such a request would probably be considered taboo now that Atobe's popularity had escalated to phenomenal, as well as suffocating levels already ( which Atobe would dismiss as 'completely normal' ); his fan-club was open to both girls, as well as boys, and had a formidable membership, which was always growing strong.
That aside, it was in the middle of the semester; even if such an arrangement was granted to him, Tezuka was aware it would be a bother on the ones in charge, and he did not wish to impose.
Not to mention he was not all that disapproving of Atobe's intentions anymore, though he could very well swear sometimes that the other was simply trying to get on his nerves.
Cut to the present; the insistent knocking on the door just wouldn't stop.
" Open up, Tezuka-kun! I know you are in there. "
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He knew that voice. It was that Jirou boy.
Tezuka sighed very softly ( i.e. beings with normal abilities of perception would not register the expressive gesture), momentarily willing the interruption to go away. Yes he was a very diligent boy and while one would expect him to go get the door almost instantly, but then it was pouring outside, and he had a nice mug of hot chocolate, a good book, and an apple for company. Not to mention said book had just reached its interesting part.
But the rapping sound was almost… frantic? He broke away from his perfect moment to open the door.
"Akutagawa-kun….. what the…? " The boy at the door was drenched, clothes sticking uncomfortably to his body, blond curls damp and darkened, clinging to the side of his face, dripping.
Tezuka opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, " You…"
" Mou, that doesn't matter…" A wet hand tugged on his wrist, " Just stop Atobe already! "
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So after a brief incoherent explanation comprising of hurried rambling and many an exaggerated hand gestures, he got the hang of the situation. Well, somewhat.
Apparently, Atobe had touched the racket.
And now, even when it was showering and thundering outside, he wouldn't stop, which was not much of a surprise at all.
Tezuka knew how Atobe became when he played – that boy wouldn't see anything else except for the movement of the ball, and the opponent at hand, he wouldn't listen to the voice of reason, pushing the game, and pushing himself to limits previously unknown, he would just lose himself Which was not at all a good thing right now.
" He just doesn't listen to anything I say. " His blond company whined, " If its you, I think he'll listen. " Jirou's voice was becoming more and more of a mumble as he spoke.
" Aa. " Tezuka just nodded. A part of him was strangely enough rejoicing though – that the way Atobe played had not changed.
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" Atobe, that's enough. "
He managed to make it there relatively dry, thanks to the wind-cheater he had the common sense to grab before leaving ( even though Jirou had made a fuss when he had made the blond wear the spare one ).
Even in the thick rain, Atobe was practicing the Tanhausser serve with near perfection.
"Atobe, I said stop. " Tezuka repeated himself sharply, " Its not safe. Get inside, now. " It was strange to give orders, knowing that the other was also an ex-captain, just like him, and especially because it was Atobe. But what needed doing had to be done.
Atobe actually heard the Seigaku ex-buchou that time, because the ball in his hand dropped to the ground, followed by the muffled clatter of the racket as it slipped out of his grip as well.
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The walk back was silent, Tezuka felt like he was with a different person altogether. ' You do love tennis after all. ' The thought flitted through his mind, but he kept it to himself.
Atobe was just… listless, and restless; apparently he had been playing unconsciously, and he was yet to snap out of it completely.
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He was not used to playing this part, not really.
Even though he had been captain of the Seigaku team, the need for doing something like this, the need for playing caretaker had never arisen for him. Oishi had always handled that department with great efficiency after all.
" You know I could have fucking played tennis all my life if I wanted to. " Atobe muttered as Tezuka peeled the wet shirt off his body.
Skin. Flawless skin.
" He didn't ask anything from me, even when he suffered a stroke last year. " Atobe was now looking at Tezuka; he looked different without the usual haughty expression on his face.
Tezuka started working on Atobe's back, toweling it softly.
Why was he doing this again? Right. Because Atobe was his roommate. And Atobe still seemed to be in a trance of sorts, even if he was talking a little.
He himself had never been one to shrug off his responsibilities in the first place. So even if that meant taking care of his overly narcissistic roommate, who nearly grated on his nerves every passing day, Tezuka would see it through ( that and Jirou had been in no condition of taking care of Atobe, the boy was coming down with a cold already, Yuushi was tending to Jirou ).
In the whole process of toweling, his fingers brushed bare, wet skin.
Smooth.
And he withdrew his hand as if burned.
That also seemed to bring Atobe back to his senses.
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A/N- will update soon, hope it was a good read! reviews loved, so if you liked it do review?
thanks for reading :)