[fic] Atobe, Shishido; edit later
Rating: PG-13, for language
Genre: Gen.
Theme: Comfort
Notes: theme lifted from the 1sentence. Spoilers for the Hyoutei part of Nationals.
Summary: Everyone copes in different ways. Full of boys being dumb, as well as some swearing, punching, and hair cutting.
Atobe didn't speak to Shishido for a month after the loss to Tachibana. They would pass by each other in the morning as Atobe took his seat for class, eyes not meeting once. He couldn't look at the brunette without feeling anger mixed with frustration. Part was directed at Shishido for getting careless and overconfident; part was at himself for allowing this to happen. Pride wouldn't allow either to bend, not as long as Atobe continued to be on the Regulars and Shishido did not.
For once, he felt at a loss at what to do. Hyoutei's policy was strict, and even if he could get Shishido back on the team from his influence alone, he knew Shishido would hate him forever.
So he let the silences grow longer, the tension rising to a point where he had to act like Shishido wasn't there in order to keep from snapping -- Atobe didn't think he had ever been quite so aware of another person's existence. Shishido ignored him in return, and started to spend more time with Ohtori, practicing. It wasn't jealousy he felt, Atobe told himself. He just didn't understand why Shishido would ask help from someone whom previously he had barely spoken to outside of practice.
When Shishido started showing up bandaged and bruised, Atobe frowned, staring hard at him as he changed sneakers for classroom slippers. Shishido brushed past him, though not without lifting his chin and casting him a defiant look. He was about to let him go without comment when he heard himself say,
"Boyfriend beat you up last night?" He sneered.
Shishido went still for a split second, then whirled around and punched him squarely across the jaw. He reeled from the impact, staggering a few steps back. His eyes narrowed, and he knew he had deserved that. He should have walked away then; instead he backhanded Shishido, and soon they were both on the floor as their classmates gathered around to watch the fight. It was elementary school all over again, the first time they met when he had pulled Shishido's hair and been shoved into the dirt in return. Shishido was all elbows, knees, and profanity as Atobe gained the upper hand and pinned him down, though the triumph was short lived as Shishido flipped him over so he was on top.
Oshitari broke through the crowd and pulled Shishido off of Atobe. Kabaji helped him up, though his hands didn't leave his upper arms even once Atobe was upright. Shishido struggled to break free, until Oshitari leaned over and whispered something in his ear. He settled for glaring daggers at Atobe as Oshitari ushered him out of the room, not letting go until Shishido was in the hallway and the taller boy could block the doorway.
"You're such a fucking bastard." Shishido then turned on his heel and stomped down the hallway toward the boy's restroom, drawing the curious gazes of those who hadn't gone directly toward the commotion. Oshitari sighed through his nose and followed after him, casting a meaningful look at Atobe before he left.
Atobe had already started to straighten his clothes. He could taste blood and he knew he was going to have a nasty bruise across his cheekbone the rest of the week. Kabaji let him use his handkerchief, and went to find an icepack.
Most of the time Atobe wouldn't debase himself enough to get into a fistfight. Besides, not many would dare strike him in the first place. He'd have to conceal the worst of it before he got home, since he wasn't in the mood to answer questions.
Oddly enough, he didn't regret it, despite everything. Things started to get better after that.
The next day Shishido spoke to him after class, and then started eating lunch with him, Oshitari, and Gakuto again.
Two weeks later Shishido defied Hyoutei and regained his spot on the tennis team. After practice that night, Atobe invited him over to watch movies. He even let him order a triple cheese pizza, though they spent most of the evening fighting over the DVD player, then the remote. During one of the movies in French Shishido fell asleep, legs sprawled in front of him and his shoulder pressed against Atobe's. He was tempted to shove him into the floor, but decided to finish the movie first. Soon he was dozing as well, after having shifted enough so that his cheek was nestled on one folded arm and Shishido's head was pressed against his back.
When Atobe lost to Echizen, he didn't say a word the rest of the day after they left the courts. Neither did anyone else -- even Gakuto kept his mouth shut. They went their separate ways, and as soon as Atobe locked himself in his room once he was home. Atobe wasn't disappointed in himself, or the tennis he played. He replayed the match in his mind and couldn't think of anything he would have done differently. That didn't make it any easier to take the loss.
Late that night he lay in bed, unable to sleep. He ran his fingers through now shorter hair. Absently, he wondered how long it had taken Shishido to get used to the change after he had cut his.
A rock hit his bedroom window, which he had left open to let in a warm breeze. He heard the glass crack, and felt a flare of irritation, Who could possibly be stupid enough to do that?
"Oh shit." He heard Shishido's voice none too quietly from outside.
Pulling aside the curtains, he leaned out over the ledge and glared down at the other boy. "And just what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"You didn't answer your phone."
"And that justifies throwing a rock at me?"
"It wasn't at you, it was at your window."
Atobe wasn't in the mood for this. His tone was warning as he said, "Shishido."
"Yeah, I know. Just come down for a little while, will you?"
For a long moment Atobe looked down at Shishido, who stood with feet braced apart and arms folded across his chest. The silence stretched until it was almost uncomfortable. Neither of them seemeed about to budge, when Atobe finally nodded slowly and ducked back behind the curtains. Shishido seemed to visibly relax, though he just as soon turned on his heel and walked over to the sidewalk.
The rest of the house was quiet. His mother and father were out late again, and he had dismissed the servants early in the evening for the rest of the night. He slipped on his shoes, then went out to where Shishido was waiting. The moonlight was bright enough that it didn't take long for his eyes to adjust. Shishido's hands were in his pockets, and he looked more uncertain than he had before, at least as far as Atobe could recall.
When it became apparent Shishido wasn't going to say anything, Atobe sighed. "So?"
The other studied him for a moment. "Let's go for a walk."
"I'd rather not."
"Just once around the block and I'll leave you alone."
"Fine."
They walked without speaking until they reached the bench at the streetcorner. There Shishido stopped, and Atobe had continued on a few paces before he noticed. He looked over his shoulder, one brow arched. "I thought you wanted to go for a walk."
"Sit down."
Atobe looked at Shishido warily, then looked at the bench as though it might bite him. Rolling his eyes, Shishido grabbed Atobe's forearm and tugged him over. The other's hands were warm through the light cotton fabric of Atobe's shirt as he gently pushed him to sit down. "Really, now," Atobe said dryly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Shishido was running his fingers through his hair. Part of Atobe wanted to lean into the touch, but he was mostly too exhausted to care. "It needs evening out."
"I was going to get that done tomorrow morning."
"I can do it now."
That got Atobe to lean back and look up at Shishido. "I don't think so."
"Why not? I brought scissors."
At that Atobe snorted. "What, do you make it habit to carry a pair with you now?"
Casting Atobe an exasperated look, Shishido rolled his eyes. "At least I don't carry a razor in my pocket."
There was a beat before Atobe responded, "Yeah, what kind of freak does that?" Another pause, then. "Regardless, I'm not going to let you of all people cut my hair. And just so you know, you're an insensitive asshole." The last was delivered almost fondly.
"The weekend after I cut mine, I do believe you're the one who said that if I didn't let you fix my hair you were going to tie me to your desk chair and have Kabaji roll me to your stylist."
"That was different. I knew what I was doing."
"It's not that hard. I'm only going to trim the longer pieces, you can have the rest taken care of later."
"You're not going to let up on this, are you?"
"No. Now hold still."
Atobe's shoulders were tense, though at the moment all Shishido was doing was running his fingers through his hair again. He closed his eyes so as to not have to witness what the other was doing. Every logical instinct said Shishido and hair cutting was one of the worst decisions that could be made, but at this point he didn't think anything could make it worse. The cutting of the scissors was a quiet murmur and bits of hair tickled the back of his neck.
"Done."
Tentatively, Atobe ran his fingers through his hair. There didn't seem to be any abnormally short patches, and it felt all right. The other boy was brushing the loose strands of hair off Atobe's shoulders before sitting beside him on the bench. "I'm surprised you came by."
"Why?"
"We didn't speak for weeks after the last time."
"Yeah." Shishido was quiet for a moment. "I may be an insensitive asshole, but I'm not as much of a fucking bastard as you can be."
For that Atobe whacked him lightly upside the head. "If that's all, I'm going back inside."
"All right. I should get back home anyway."
They both stood and Shishido walked Atobe back to the front door. Before Atobe turned to go inside, Shishido asked, "See you tomorrow?"
Atobe weighed the question. "Later in the afternoon, since you've been cutting into my sleep."
"Fine, whatever." Shishido took off his hat and placed it backwards on Atobe's head, adjusting it so it fit like Shishido normally wore it. "Go get your sleep."
Atobe blinked, and watched Shishido walking back toward the bus stop. He was halfway there when he called out, "Hey, Ryou?"
"Yeah?"
"If you tell anyone about this," he paused to point to the hat on his head. "I will kill you."
Genre: Gen.
Theme: Comfort
Notes: theme lifted from the 1sentence. Spoilers for the Hyoutei part of Nationals.
Summary: Everyone copes in different ways. Full of boys being dumb, as well as some swearing, punching, and hair cutting.
Atobe didn't speak to Shishido for a month after the loss to Tachibana. They would pass by each other in the morning as Atobe took his seat for class, eyes not meeting once. He couldn't look at the brunette without feeling anger mixed with frustration. Part was directed at Shishido for getting careless and overconfident; part was at himself for allowing this to happen. Pride wouldn't allow either to bend, not as long as Atobe continued to be on the Regulars and Shishido did not.
For once, he felt at a loss at what to do. Hyoutei's policy was strict, and even if he could get Shishido back on the team from his influence alone, he knew Shishido would hate him forever.
So he let the silences grow longer, the tension rising to a point where he had to act like Shishido wasn't there in order to keep from snapping -- Atobe didn't think he had ever been quite so aware of another person's existence. Shishido ignored him in return, and started to spend more time with Ohtori, practicing. It wasn't jealousy he felt, Atobe told himself. He just didn't understand why Shishido would ask help from someone whom previously he had barely spoken to outside of practice.
When Shishido started showing up bandaged and bruised, Atobe frowned, staring hard at him as he changed sneakers for classroom slippers. Shishido brushed past him, though not without lifting his chin and casting him a defiant look. He was about to let him go without comment when he heard himself say,
"Boyfriend beat you up last night?" He sneered.
Shishido went still for a split second, then whirled around and punched him squarely across the jaw. He reeled from the impact, staggering a few steps back. His eyes narrowed, and he knew he had deserved that. He should have walked away then; instead he backhanded Shishido, and soon they were both on the floor as their classmates gathered around to watch the fight. It was elementary school all over again, the first time they met when he had pulled Shishido's hair and been shoved into the dirt in return. Shishido was all elbows, knees, and profanity as Atobe gained the upper hand and pinned him down, though the triumph was short lived as Shishido flipped him over so he was on top.
Oshitari broke through the crowd and pulled Shishido off of Atobe. Kabaji helped him up, though his hands didn't leave his upper arms even once Atobe was upright. Shishido struggled to break free, until Oshitari leaned over and whispered something in his ear. He settled for glaring daggers at Atobe as Oshitari ushered him out of the room, not letting go until Shishido was in the hallway and the taller boy could block the doorway.
"You're such a fucking bastard." Shishido then turned on his heel and stomped down the hallway toward the boy's restroom, drawing the curious gazes of those who hadn't gone directly toward the commotion. Oshitari sighed through his nose and followed after him, casting a meaningful look at Atobe before he left.
Atobe had already started to straighten his clothes. He could taste blood and he knew he was going to have a nasty bruise across his cheekbone the rest of the week. Kabaji let him use his handkerchief, and went to find an icepack.
Most of the time Atobe wouldn't debase himself enough to get into a fistfight. Besides, not many would dare strike him in the first place. He'd have to conceal the worst of it before he got home, since he wasn't in the mood to answer questions.
Oddly enough, he didn't regret it, despite everything. Things started to get better after that.
The next day Shishido spoke to him after class, and then started eating lunch with him, Oshitari, and Gakuto again.
Two weeks later Shishido defied Hyoutei and regained his spot on the tennis team. After practice that night, Atobe invited him over to watch movies. He even let him order a triple cheese pizza, though they spent most of the evening fighting over the DVD player, then the remote. During one of the movies in French Shishido fell asleep, legs sprawled in front of him and his shoulder pressed against Atobe's. He was tempted to shove him into the floor, but decided to finish the movie first. Soon he was dozing as well, after having shifted enough so that his cheek was nestled on one folded arm and Shishido's head was pressed against his back.
When Atobe lost to Echizen, he didn't say a word the rest of the day after they left the courts. Neither did anyone else -- even Gakuto kept his mouth shut. They went their separate ways, and as soon as Atobe locked himself in his room once he was home. Atobe wasn't disappointed in himself, or the tennis he played. He replayed the match in his mind and couldn't think of anything he would have done differently. That didn't make it any easier to take the loss.
Late that night he lay in bed, unable to sleep. He ran his fingers through now shorter hair. Absently, he wondered how long it had taken Shishido to get used to the change after he had cut his.
A rock hit his bedroom window, which he had left open to let in a warm breeze. He heard the glass crack, and felt a flare of irritation, Who could possibly be stupid enough to do that?
"Oh shit." He heard Shishido's voice none too quietly from outside.
Pulling aside the curtains, he leaned out over the ledge and glared down at the other boy. "And just what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"You didn't answer your phone."
"And that justifies throwing a rock at me?"
"It wasn't at you, it was at your window."
Atobe wasn't in the mood for this. His tone was warning as he said, "Shishido."
"Yeah, I know. Just come down for a little while, will you?"
For a long moment Atobe looked down at Shishido, who stood with feet braced apart and arms folded across his chest. The silence stretched until it was almost uncomfortable. Neither of them seemeed about to budge, when Atobe finally nodded slowly and ducked back behind the curtains. Shishido seemed to visibly relax, though he just as soon turned on his heel and walked over to the sidewalk.
The rest of the house was quiet. His mother and father were out late again, and he had dismissed the servants early in the evening for the rest of the night. He slipped on his shoes, then went out to where Shishido was waiting. The moonlight was bright enough that it didn't take long for his eyes to adjust. Shishido's hands were in his pockets, and he looked more uncertain than he had before, at least as far as Atobe could recall.
When it became apparent Shishido wasn't going to say anything, Atobe sighed. "So?"
The other studied him for a moment. "Let's go for a walk."
"I'd rather not."
"Just once around the block and I'll leave you alone."
"Fine."
They walked without speaking until they reached the bench at the streetcorner. There Shishido stopped, and Atobe had continued on a few paces before he noticed. He looked over his shoulder, one brow arched. "I thought you wanted to go for a walk."
"Sit down."
Atobe looked at Shishido warily, then looked at the bench as though it might bite him. Rolling his eyes, Shishido grabbed Atobe's forearm and tugged him over. The other's hands were warm through the light cotton fabric of Atobe's shirt as he gently pushed him to sit down. "Really, now," Atobe said dryly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Shishido was running his fingers through his hair. Part of Atobe wanted to lean into the touch, but he was mostly too exhausted to care. "It needs evening out."
"I was going to get that done tomorrow morning."
"I can do it now."
That got Atobe to lean back and look up at Shishido. "I don't think so."
"Why not? I brought scissors."
At that Atobe snorted. "What, do you make it habit to carry a pair with you now?"
Casting Atobe an exasperated look, Shishido rolled his eyes. "At least I don't carry a razor in my pocket."
There was a beat before Atobe responded, "Yeah, what kind of freak does that?" Another pause, then. "Regardless, I'm not going to let you of all people cut my hair. And just so you know, you're an insensitive asshole." The last was delivered almost fondly.
"The weekend after I cut mine, I do believe you're the one who said that if I didn't let you fix my hair you were going to tie me to your desk chair and have Kabaji roll me to your stylist."
"That was different. I knew what I was doing."
"It's not that hard. I'm only going to trim the longer pieces, you can have the rest taken care of later."
"You're not going to let up on this, are you?"
"No. Now hold still."
Atobe's shoulders were tense, though at the moment all Shishido was doing was running his fingers through his hair again. He closed his eyes so as to not have to witness what the other was doing. Every logical instinct said Shishido and hair cutting was one of the worst decisions that could be made, but at this point he didn't think anything could make it worse. The cutting of the scissors was a quiet murmur and bits of hair tickled the back of his neck.
"Done."
Tentatively, Atobe ran his fingers through his hair. There didn't seem to be any abnormally short patches, and it felt all right. The other boy was brushing the loose strands of hair off Atobe's shoulders before sitting beside him on the bench. "I'm surprised you came by."
"Why?"
"We didn't speak for weeks after the last time."
"Yeah." Shishido was quiet for a moment. "I may be an insensitive asshole, but I'm not as much of a fucking bastard as you can be."
For that Atobe whacked him lightly upside the head. "If that's all, I'm going back inside."
"All right. I should get back home anyway."
They both stood and Shishido walked Atobe back to the front door. Before Atobe turned to go inside, Shishido asked, "See you tomorrow?"
Atobe weighed the question. "Later in the afternoon, since you've been cutting into my sleep."
"Fine, whatever." Shishido took off his hat and placed it backwards on Atobe's head, adjusting it so it fit like Shishido normally wore it. "Go get your sleep."
Atobe blinked, and watched Shishido walking back toward the bus stop. He was halfway there when he called out, "Hey, Ryou?"
"Yeah?"
"If you tell anyone about this," he paused to point to the hat on his head. "I will kill you."