A/N: Gah I don't even like this one, but Scarlet is making me post it. --Katie

Disclaimer: You should all know by now that we are not Konomi-sensei even though he probably draws secret mpreg doujins and masturbates to them. Or something.

Drabble the thirty-eighth: Tezuka/Atobe

"What on Earth are you doing?!"

Tezuka looked up. "Keigo, get out. The fumes are bad for the babies."

"Never mind that! You have ruined our children's nursery!"

"I followed your plans exactly."

"I have a team of professionals coming to paint, Kunimitsu! Certainly they will--" Atobe paused, looking around. Now that he was paying attention, he realized the pale yellow paint was immaculate, the elaborate pattern on the focal wall a perfect copy of the sketch Atobe had drawn. Of course Tezuka wouldn't be sloppy about it; he wasn't sloppy about anything.

Well, this was certainly the less expensive way. Money was no object, of course, but it was something to consider. And Tezuka was far less likely to claim artistic license as he hadn't an artistic bone in his body.

Tezuka was watching him, expectant and a little exasperated, roller poised near a white spot on the wall.

"Right," Atobe said, waddling back toward the door. "Carry on."