You remember that fateful day when he started calling himself Ore-sama. The first time, you laughed outright; you were sure he couldn't be serious. His eyes lit up at the sound of your voice, and said it repeatedly, hoping to make you smile some more. Later, you only shook our head as he's antics got more theatrical and more pompous, bordering on obnoxious. Alas, at that moment in time, he didn't care so much about what you thought, too absorbed in his newly achieved celebrity like status.
Every now and then, you find amusement in his superfluous tendencies and it makes you shake your head, suppressing your laughter. You know, more than anyone, how much he likes to put up an act. He takes pleasure in seeing others gaze at him, awestruck. You laugh, and can do nothing but accept it.
He leads Hyoutei forward, without a vice captain, and all on his own. He shows the world he can do it. You find yourself believing in him, even as you watch him lose. And really, he never really loses; he only grows more beautiful. In your eyes, at least. But you don't tell him that, even though there aren't supposed to be any secrets between the two of you, not here. After all, it wouldn't do to inflate his ego.
Here, when he lies on your arms, utterly spent and satisfied, it doesn't matter. His hair is splayed, dark strands like fine calligraphy across the white pillow. The only words exchanged are soft sighs, gasps of pleasure, and breathy moans; all communicating contentment and assuring love.
Your fingers become ensnared in his hair, marveling at the texture. So soft, you marvel, like the finest silk. He turns his head, so he faces you. His eyelashes, surprisingly long, flutter and cast their shadow across pale cheeks. He has nice cheek bones, you observe, fascinated by his literally unconscious beauty. He has lovely bone structure, not just on his face, but everywhere. You thank your lucky stars that you've had the privilege of exploring his body.
It was so surprising, you reflect, how easily he surrendered. How he offered himself to you. And you responded with an unprecedented ferociousness that surprised and pleased both of you.
All of a sudden, you have the urge to trace his charm point, but decide against it; you don't want him to awaken just yet. So silent while he sleeps, it makes you miss the sound of his voice that much more and anticipate his awakening.
You love the sound of his voice, domineering yet reflective. Could a voice be gentle but sharp? If truth be told, that was the reason you laughed when he first called himself Ore-sama; you were laughing at the anomaly, at the enigma that was Atobe Keigo.
When he wakes up, you'll both shower. Perhaps indulge in another round of passionate sex (you refuse to call it 'fucking'-too coarse for your refined upbringing, and Keigo wrinkles his nose when you say 'making love'- to sappy for his), but then you have tennis practice. And he'll go back to being Ore-sama, commanding the courts and flustered first years. But right now, with nothing else but the two of you, he doesn't call himself anything but yours.
~Fin