Prince of Tennis (Atobe/Jiroh)
Title: Shifting
Author/Artist: takewing
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Word count: 384
Summary: While sleeping, Jiroh is virtually irresistible.
A/N: Written for the springkink request Atobe/Jirou: Tousled appearance - he always looked debauched without actually having been debauched. I only hope the imagery helps to capture the moment - I tried!
Jiroh is asleep, and there's nothing new about that. Neither is the way he lays sprawled across the bleacher, one leg resting on top of the bleacher and the other carelessly hanging off the edge. His wild blond hair surrounds his face, curly and still wet from the shower. One strand gets caught by a stray breeze and flips across his forehead.
Atobe stares for several moments, taking in Jiroh's face - the cheeks faintly red from the recent shower or perhaps due to the elements, the mouth slightly open and the lips quite moist, as if someone invisible had come and pressed their lips to Jiroh's, maybe sucked on them…
Atobe knows no one has; Jiroh had probably done it himself in his sleep. He crosses his arms as if expecting Jiroh to awaken soon, though he knows that Jiroh doesn't work that way. You have to do something drastic, or Jiroh will sleep through anything - tennis matches and impending apocalypses, included.
Atobe coughs quietly, giving the sleeping boy an annoyed look before sitting down on the bleacher inches from Jiroh's head. Without even looking he runs his hand through Jiroh's wind-tousled hair even though there is probably no hope of taming it. Atobe looks down, but there's no sign that Jiroh has awakened, not even a twitching of the eyelids, and Atobe gives an exasperated half-smile.
"Oi…" he complains, speaking to no one in particular but bending down subtly.
When Atobe kisses him, it's strange. It's upside-down and a weird angle at that, not to mention that Atobe has never kissed someone who wasn't conscious to enjoy it - it almost seems a waste of a good kiss.
Atobe rises again, breaking the kiss, and only then does Jiroh open his eyes at last. His gaze is unfocused, confused, and he slowly raises a hand to his lips. He doesn't sit up, but asks, "Atobe, did you just…?"
"Hmph," says Atobe. He's smiling, but he's no longer looking in Jiroh's direction. "Did I just what?"
Jiroh is silent as he shifts positions, now deciding to use Atobe's thigh as a pillow. "Nothing…"
"Exactly."
Jiroh is asleep again, but this time he's smiling along with Atobe and looks, for once, both debauched and pleased. Atobe thinks that perhaps that kiss hadn't been wasted after all.
Author/Artist: takewing
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Word count: 384
Summary: While sleeping, Jiroh is virtually irresistible.
A/N: Written for the springkink request Atobe/Jirou: Tousled appearance - he always looked debauched without actually having been debauched. I only hope the imagery helps to capture the moment - I tried!
Jiroh is asleep, and there's nothing new about that. Neither is the way he lays sprawled across the bleacher, one leg resting on top of the bleacher and the other carelessly hanging off the edge. His wild blond hair surrounds his face, curly and still wet from the shower. One strand gets caught by a stray breeze and flips across his forehead.
Atobe stares for several moments, taking in Jiroh's face - the cheeks faintly red from the recent shower or perhaps due to the elements, the mouth slightly open and the lips quite moist, as if someone invisible had come and pressed their lips to Jiroh's, maybe sucked on them…
Atobe knows no one has; Jiroh had probably done it himself in his sleep. He crosses his arms as if expecting Jiroh to awaken soon, though he knows that Jiroh doesn't work that way. You have to do something drastic, or Jiroh will sleep through anything - tennis matches and impending apocalypses, included.
Atobe coughs quietly, giving the sleeping boy an annoyed look before sitting down on the bleacher inches from Jiroh's head. Without even looking he runs his hand through Jiroh's wind-tousled hair even though there is probably no hope of taming it. Atobe looks down, but there's no sign that Jiroh has awakened, not even a twitching of the eyelids, and Atobe gives an exasperated half-smile.
"Oi…" he complains, speaking to no one in particular but bending down subtly.
When Atobe kisses him, it's strange. It's upside-down and a weird angle at that, not to mention that Atobe has never kissed someone who wasn't conscious to enjoy it - it almost seems a waste of a good kiss.
Atobe rises again, breaking the kiss, and only then does Jiroh open his eyes at last. His gaze is unfocused, confused, and he slowly raises a hand to his lips. He doesn't sit up, but asks, "Atobe, did you just…?"
"Hmph," says Atobe. He's smiling, but he's no longer looking in Jiroh's direction. "Did I just what?"
Jiroh is silent as he shifts positions, now deciding to use Atobe's thigh as a pillow. "Nothing…"
"Exactly."
Jiroh is asleep again, but this time he's smiling along with Atobe and looks, for once, both debauched and pleased. Atobe thinks that perhaps that kiss hadn't been wasted after all.