Log: Atobe and Wakato

[koori_no_king]

Who: Atobe, Wakato, and Beat
What: Wake up in the middle of night
Where: Their room
When: A night before this entry
Rating: PG-13
Comments: Here it is, the mysterious secret~ See, the two can actually carry a conversation without either killing the other! And now you all know Atobe's worst fear, too.


It was dark, though not too dark for him to see. He could make out the forms of the men at the other end of the room. The room was filthy and smelled of dust and cigarette smoke. He could only barely keep himself from sneezing.

It was still cold, he noted, but didn't say anything. He couldn't find a voice anymore, not after all the time he'd spent crying and calling for help. Surely someone would hear him, he'd thought, surely Mamalie would come and make it all right... But Mamalie hadn't come, and even his complaints about the cold had only gained him an old, worn leather jacket one of the men had thrown at him more to keep him quiet than warm. It was better than nothing, though, and he tried to curl up as small as possible to cover as much of himself with the jacket as possible.

One of the men got up just then, walking closer to him through the shadows. he shut his eyes and curled up even tighter, hoping they'd think he had fallen asleep in his exhaustion. It had hurt when the men had caught him and brought him here. He didn't want to be hurt again.

"We still haven't heard from your parents, brat," said a rough voice, and a foot nudged him, not too gently. He bit his lip so as not to cry out. He was a big boy and big boys didn't cry, he shouldn't have been crying, why were there tears on his face... "Who knows, maybe they don't wanna get you back after all?"

"I damn well wouldn't," laughed someone from further away. "The brat's done nothing but complain. Must be spoiled rotten."

They were wrong. They were all wrong. Mamalie would want him back if nothing else. Mamalie would come and get him home soon enough...

"An' that's why he's worth his weight in gold," the first man said, nudging him again, harder this time. He winced, unable to stop the tears falling down his face. "Good thing he's quiet now. I was about to knock his head on the floor with the way he kept wailing."

That made him pin his mouth shut even more tightly than before. He didn't want to get hurt. Please God don't let him get hurt...

"There's still a few hours until the deadline," a third voice said. "Don't kill him before that."

"I'm not gonna," the first man said. "Just shaking him up a little."

He somehow dared to take a peek from under the leather jacket, and wished he hadn't. The man's foot was so big, so big, and it was coming right towards him and -

Atobe woke up with a half-choked scream on his lips, sitting up in his bed, sheets wet with cold sweat. Again. That same damn dream again. It'd been so long since he'd last had one, why would it still come back to haunt him...

It wasn't real, he reminded himself even as he hid his face in his hands. The dream wasn't real. He'd been only four; there was no way he could remember such details. It was only a nightmare, only an illusion woven together by his subconscious from what he'd been told and what little he did remember. There wasn't much he could actually remember, not in his waking hours, only the semi-darkness and the smell of leather and cigarette smoke and the horrifying, horrifying feeling of being trapped without an escape...

Shoulders shaking violently with sobs, Atobe tried in vain to stop the tears born from the chilling, heart-gripping fear that still wouldn't let go of him even after all these years.

Wakato was usually a heavy sleeper. Once his head hit the pillows, he was out. And nothing. Nothing at all short of a stick of dynomite under his mattress would wake him. However, the sound of someone tossinging and turning on a huge expensive bed with huge expensive sheets was enough to bring even the heaviest sleeper into a bleary state of consciousess. A half awake state, where in Wakato wondered why his roommate was thrashing about so beneith the covers.

Surely...Atobe Keigo couldn't be having some illisit sex dream about his rough lover. No..It didn't sound like one of those. Besides, he was sure Atobe Keigo was too dignified to dream about being bent over and screwed three weeksfrom Sunday by his lover. And a part of the red head wondered a little what was going on...though it was a very half asleep thought. Wakato shrugged and tried to roll over. Tried to block out the sound. But he couldn't. Because he knew that one. It was a nightmare. The most composed, repressed guy he knew was having a nightmare...like any normal human being.

And he just couldn't ignore that half-shout. Because despite what he had done before, he really was a pretty nice guy. That and he felt sort of bad because Wakato understood nightmares. He had them sometimes too, usually about Kite killing him...or about Saeki hating him suddenly... or about pro-tennis players suing him for stealing their entire personas as well as their moves. Wakato frowned and tried to ignore it. But then Keigo was sitting up and Wakato knew he wasn't going to get any sleep anyway. Blearily, he rolled over to look across the darkness. "Atobe? You...okay?"

Even in his teary state, Wakato's voice startled him. Shit. He most certainly hadn't meant for the other to wake up. He didn't want Wakato to see him in such a vulnerable state... not Wakato, of all people. God knew just how much fun the mimic would have teasing him about his weakness...

"I'm fine," he said, trying to keep his voice cool and detached and failing miserably as another sob escaped his lips. "I... apologize for the distraction. I'll try not to disturb you again. Just go back to sleep." And, hopefully, sleep until morning thinking it had only been a dream, surely it had to have been a dream to wake up and see Atobe Keigo hunched over and crying like a child lost in more ways than one...

Wakato yawned quite loudly and started to sit up. A hand rubbed at his eyes as if to get the sleep out of them. He pulled his covers away and set his feet on the floor just to draw them back into the bed. Cold floors. Ugg. He hated cold floors right after waking up. That and the moment he moved like that, he was sure he'd see a shaggy head of a mutt peering over this way as well. Wakato could swear that Atobe's dog hated him.

Just that alone might have made the red head want to roll over and go right back to sleep. Instead, he pulled his feet up on the bed and leaned his head against his knees, looking at the other boy. There was that sobbing sound and he wondered why it was. After all, he'd never ever seen Atobe act like this. It was...strange. And honestly, Wakato was a little insulted that his roommate would think of pretending that nothing was going on on Atobe's side of the room.

"You're lying... and it's sort of too late for that. I'm awake now and I dont' think I'll be getting back to sleep any time soon."

"Even if I am lying, what concern is it to you?" Atobe murmured darkly as he tried to wipe his tears away, wetting the sleeve of his finest silk pyjamas in the process. It was all in vain, though, as new tears seemed to be just waiting for their chance to ruin his face all over again. "I already apologized for disturbing you, but I can hardly do anything about your lost sleep."

He swallowed, trying to pull himself together. He wasn't this weak, or at least he shouldn't have been... yet it seemed he indeed was. He was weak and scared, oh God how he was scared, even as he knew just how useless and unnecessary it was at the moment he just couldn't stop crying in fear.

Somehow, though, he still found the strength to utter the most uncharacteristic words to ever pass his lips. "Please... just ignore me," he pleaded.

Wakato had no idea what to even say to that. I'm your friend. Not quite, though they were civil towards one another. Because if Kite found out you were crying...he'd kill me Perhaps, but a rather moot point because it was him here and not the martial artist. Because I care... Okay. That...would just be stupid to say.

The red head sighed and chose the lesser of the evils. "Because I'm your friend. That's why it's a concern. And I'm getting up and coming over there, okay?" He shifted again, wondering why he was even bothering and knowing it was because it did bother him a little to see his roommate so...distraught. It just wasn't right in the pretender's head. Especially at those last words. He slid from his bed and started over.

"Okay...Who are you, and what did you do to Atobe Keigo? I know you aren't me...playing him, cause I'm here and you're there... So you can't be me being you...Unless I'm you...being me...being you..." Wakato stopped lightly tugging at his hair. "Gah...I think I just totally confused myself...Point is...I'm not going to ignore you cause I'm already up. So you'll just have to deal with it. Cause it's either me...or I go and kiss my ass goodbye...by banging on your rough stuff's door as loudly as I can until he gets it...sealing my death at the hands of a cranky just woke up Sanada and an equally cranky Kite."

"Like I could stop you," Atobe muttered bitterly. Nevertheless, he managed to make a little gesture for Beat to stay down even as he did he best not to freeze as he heard Wakato's soft steps on the floor. That was Wakato, the mimicking idiot, he reminded himself. It was quite different from the heavy steps of that man...

"You're not making any sense," he murmured, only to soon freeze at Wakato's next words. "No," he whispered. "No... don't tell Eishirou..." Of course, he knew very well he couldn't hide his weakness from his boyfriend forever, but... not yet. It was bad enough that Wakato had to find out; he didn't want to deal with Kite finding out at the same time.

He chuckled, but the sound was a bitter one, devoid of any joy. "This is me," he murmured. "This is Atobe Keigo... Laugh if you want; I hardly can stop you. Laugh and make fun of me but... don't tell Eishirou just yet..."

That was right. Atobe couldn't stop him. Wakato had decided to go over there. Didn' tknow why. Just knew that he had to. Because that's what friends did, right? They went over and they helped their friends. They didn't just roll over and go back to sleep because their friend ordered them to do so. And so, he carefully stepped around Beat and stood before the boy on the bed, frowning slightly. "Yeah...I confused myself there. I do that sometimes. Go too many people up there that I can be." He tapped his head slightly. "I'm surprised I've not developed MPD yet...but that's my problems and we should be talking about yours." Cause he had never seen Atobe Keigo like this. Never.

All he knew was that at the mention of Kite the other smeed to lock up. The fact that he hadn't been corrected when he had called Kite that derogitory but apt nickname was prrof positive that something wasn't right at all. Instead, he leaned down to glower at Atobe and state rather tursely. "You...are a dink, you know that. A total dink. And a jerk. Thinking I'd make fun of you cause of something like this. I'm not heartless like some people. Here, I'm offering to go and get murdered because I'd be waking up both Sanada and Kite, and you're telling me that I should just mock you already? You are...a dummy, Atobe Keigo."

He smiled a little and then plopped onto the bed. A much nicer bed then his. He pulled his feet up to sit indian style. "There. I mocked you. I hope your satisfied. So, since that's over and doen with...why don't you tell me what's got you so bent out of shape over here. The sooner you spill, the sooner I go back over there and leave you alone."

"There's no reason to talk about my problems," Atobe murmured. However, even as he said so he knew Wakato wasn't about to give up so easily. Why did everyone have to be so stubborn in all the matters that displeased him?

Taking the hands off his tear-streaked face, he instead crossed his arms over his knees and pressed his face against them instead. "It's nothing," he murmured, even as he already knew Wakato wouldn't be satisfied with such an answer. Nevertheless, he was playing for time here. He needed to gather himself before he could speak of it -- and he had the feeling he would have to speak, for his oh-so-dear roommate would not leave him be before he did.

"I... had a nightmare," he said quietly. "Not like that wasn't obvious enough... the bad thing being, not only is it a nightmare I've had before -- more times than I can count, even -- it's... not entirely the result of my subconsciousness." He bit his lip. "It's... memories. At least some of it is. I don't know how much of it actually happened and how much I'm just imagining, but... I hate it. Hate it so much..."

Of course there was no reason for it. There was no point in taking about Atobe's problems, if only because someone like Atobe wouldn't share. But Wakato was stubborn in his own ways. And right now, he wanted to do his best for his roommate. And he wished he could have a change over that would be good with this sort of things. Espeically when the other boy hid his face in his knees.

Akwardly, the red head reached out and lightly patted Atobe's back. "Doesn't look like nothing to me..." He observed before sighing and waiting. Though really, Wakato wasn't a patient guy. It was sort of a shame and maybe a little wrong to think that he was the wrong copy player for this. He wasn't like the other copy player. He wasn't quiet and he didn't always listen to what others told him. He wasn't Kabaji. He wasn't Kite. He was Wakato,and he was almost wishing that he was someone else.

"Yeah. Pretty obvious. Only a dumbass wouldn't be able to see that." He moved a little towards Atobe and shook his head. "But you don't have to worry. I'm not stupid and I'm not going to ask you what it was about... unless you what to tell me. But yeah...Bad memories can do that to people... And you know what... it's okay to have bad memories. I have them and I bet your rough stuff has them too. So it's okay and yeah...it's also okay to hate it so much."

Atobe was quiet for a moment, more than half hoping that Wakato would just go now that he'd got some form of explanation, leaving him alone. Finally, though, he found himself speaking again, quietly telling his roommate just what exactly had disturbed his dreams. True, Wakato was hardly the first person he might have thought to share his fears with, but Wakato was there right now, through his own insistance even, and he just knew that if he didn't get it out in any way he wouldn't sleep for the rest of the night at all.

"I... was kidnapped, when I was about four," he murmured. "I don't remember much of it... just some details, scents and feelings, but nothing definite. What little else I know, I've been told later... like about all the bruises and such on me when I was finally returned home." He shuddered at the mere thought of that. "So sometimes, when I'm asleep... I dream of it. What I remember, and what I imagine... and every time I get so afraid I can hardly even move."

He didn't mean to tell so much, he really didn't, but now that he'd started it was like he'd opened a gate for a flood, the words pouring out of him between quiet sobs. "The details I do remember... coldness and the dark, footsteps, the smell of cigarette and leather... tiredness, the feeling of being trapped. Even if I'm awake, those are problematic for me... one or two at a time I can handle, obviously, but three will make me nervous... four at a time, and I go back to that scared child curled up in a corner. And in my dreams, it's always all of those... all of those, and all the things I can't even remember..."

He lifted his head a bit, finally, trying once again to dry his tears, once again failing miserably. "I hate it," he murmured. "I hate it, and I hate my own weakness. I just hate myself for it... It's been over ten years, for God's sake!"

Wakato wasn't going anywhere. That was pretty much obvious he wasn't going to move, even if Atobe sicked his dog on him. Even if Atobe sicked Kite on him. In fact, he just sat there looking at the other boy, waiting. Because he was able to do this. He'd prove that. He'd prove to this other boy something that they had argued about before. He was just as good at his fellow copy player.

But he wished perhaps he hadn't been so nosey. He'd never thought that. He was sure that things had to be rough for the richest boy he knew. But it just was more proof how far apart they were as people. They were both single children but Wakato had never been kidnapped. In fact, he had pretty much been ignored. No one had even bothered to notice him until it was discovered that he could pretend to be other people. When he was other people, he was noticed.

Lightly, he reached out and just put his hand upon Atobe's head. He wasn't good at this at all. "I have no idea what to say to that. I think I would have...died if that happened to me. I mean crap. I still have nightmares about what Kite did...I still have nightmares about Deep Impact. But that...you have to do everything better than everyone else, don't you? But I don't know if it will go away because those thing sstay with us, right? But I think you shouldn't be scared..."

He paused and looked to the door. "Because unlike me, you have someone strong to watch out for you. I bet you...I bet you every technique I've stolen...that if someone tried to take you away now...he'd kill them all. I mean, he sent me to the hospital for a couple weeks just for impersonating you...think about what he might do if someone tried to take you from him. You...you're really very lucky."

Atobe did his best not to be startled as he felt Wakato's hand upon his head. He didn't entirely succeed; the sudden touch did frighten him, just for a fraction of a second, before he gained control over the frightened little child inside him. It was just Wakato, Wakato trying to comfort him. However unlikely that seemed, it was no threat. No threat at all...

"I know I shouldn't be scared... I'm not four anymore, after all. I'm not quite as easy to snatch... even more so as most of the time when I'm not at the camp I'm followed by various numbers of professional bodyguards, precisely to stop such an incident from happening ever again. But I... I can't help it. When I'm reminded too strongly of the incident... I go back to being four and scared out of my mind. At that time... at that time, I thought I was going to die... that they were going to kill me. Of course, I don't remember my exact thoughts of the time... but I do recall the fear... the fear for my life."

He opened his eyes, finally, not looking at anything in particular in the semi-darkness of their shared room. "It... feels like an insult to Eishirou... because I know you're right. I know he wouldn't let anyone take me. But back then... back then, I didn't have Eishirou. I didn't have anyone... and all I could do for myself was to curl up and cry."

That was just weird. It was weird that Atobe would start at his touch. He wasn't threatening at all. But he supposed that with the nightmare and with what Atobe was talking about, he'd be scared too. "Except you forgot the part where you are a human being..." He observed quielty. "Remember, I've been you... And so I know that you're a human being with feeling and stuff like that, cause I can only copy people."

"But it's something I'm sure won't leave your head. That thought that you're going to die. I sort of know where you're coming from...Though not the same way... Once upon a time I told a certain person on my team that I liked them...like that... it was like what Kite did to me...only more so. Becase he was in love with coach and I was a pervert for liking him like that. But Atobe...it's okay to feel scared about things. Cause that means you're a person like the rest of us. I'll even bet there are things like Kite's afraid of. That makes him wait up at night in a cold sweat."

"And I know it's sorta pointless to say this...but that was then and this is now. I survived Deep Impulse. I survived Kite Eishirou... I'll survive the next violent badass I run afoul of... And guess what? You survived too. You survived that and you'll keep on surviving. You're not one to give up. So curl up and cry if you want, and survive."

"But I'm not supposed to be," Atobe murmured. "I'm not supposed to be so vulnerable, so easy to break... I should be the perfect heir, calm and collected no matter what. It's a disgrace, can't you see? A total disgrace for the Atobe heir and King of Hyoutei to cry like a frightened child..." And for all that he wanted to escape his parents' expectations, he did have his pride. He had his endless, stubborn pride that, despite all his disagreements, was formed in a very large part through the values and norms established for him by his parents.

"I know it's not going to leave me. I've lived with it for most of my life, after all. I just wish... I just wish it wasn't so difficult..." He blinked slowly at Wakato's little revelation. For someone to attack another simply on the grounds of attraction... "That's wrong," he whispered. "That's just wrong... I know I have been cruel to girls who have confessed to me, but I can't even imagine someone sinking so low as to actually attack someone for the sake of a confession..."

Closing his eyes again, he took some deep breaths, trying to control himself. He wasn't this weak, was he... Even if he was scared -- and he still was, painfully so -- he should at least be able to maintain some facade of normalcy, at least now that he was over the worst of it. Not that he could fool Wakato anymore, but he wasn't about to spend the rest of the night crying. His eyes were going to look awful as it was. "I quite doubt there's anything that could make Eishirou a mere frightened child," he said quietly. "But for once... I guess you are right, somewhat. It is human to feel scared sometimes, isn't it? It is human to cry when you fear for your life..."

Yes, he was seeking confirmation here, even if it was by someone such as Wakato. He needed someone to agree with him on this... "I never... was allowed to," he whispered. "If I woke up crying as a child, the only one who would come was Mamalie... and she was always worried someone else might hear. After my parents fired her... there was no one. No one would come... but sometimes the next day, I would be told what a disgrace it is for someone my age to weep like that. Someone did hear... but the only acknowledgement allowed was scolding."

Wakato laughed slightly and leaned a little towards Atobe. "Yeah... And I'm not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be way over there, sleeping and leaving you the hell alone, but would you look at this. I'm not. And I don't give a crap about disgrace. I'm sure you really think I'm one, so whatever. And for the record...we aren't at Hyoutei, so you're pretty much only a king in your own mind."

He let the other ramble wishing he hadn't told Atobe that yes, even if had problems too. He had scares that wouldn't heal just like the rich boy did. "Yeah...well... I have a bad habit of going after just the wrong kind...but that's not the issue here. The issue here is that you're having a hard time...and I'm just enough of a dumbass to try and help you... Because that's even more wrong. what they told you...What they did. It's not weak for a guy to cry. I'm sure that more manly men then you have shed manly tears. So it's all cool. If you want to, you can cry. In fact, I think you should go for it because I bet you got a lot stored up in there. Just waiting to get out."

Wakato leaned a little back and just looked at Atobe. "So...go ahead, man. Let it out. Because who am I going to tell? No one. Got that. This is between you, me, the wall and your mutt down there."

Atobe chuckled, a somewhat empty sound, but a chuckle nevertheless. "I guess... So both of us are amiss here, eh?" Not that he... minded. Not much, anyway. True, at first he had wanted nothing more than for Wakato to go back to his bed and fall asleep, but if he were forced to tell the truth now he might have admitted it was somewhat helping, the talking.

"You are a dumbass all right, I'll give you that," he murmured, "not like I ever tried to deny that particular point. And I'm well aware my childhood's more messed up than Jirou's hair in a hurricane. Doesn't make it any easier to ignore what you've been told your entire life, though..." Either way, he was weak -- for failing to meet all those expectations, or for failing to escame them.

"Don't use that tone of voice when you talk about Beat," he then said, attempting another chuckle. "He's the finest damn mutt who ever failed to track his ancestors beyond the bitch he was born from." Even as he said this, though, the tears were already soaking his face all over again, starting to fall even more rapidly as he, indeed, let go.

Yes. They were both seriously messed up. For different reasons. But that wasn't the point. The point was that he was trying once more to be a friend. The last time he'd had such good intentions, he had been hospitalized. This time he was sure he was safe and secure. He'd not get a beating for this...Not unless he did something really stupid...like Change Over and be Kite. An impossibility because his hair would never style up into a pompadore...no matter how he tried.

Instead, he ignored the agreement that he was really very dumb...which he wasn't...he just didn't apply himself to anything outside of tennis... because Atobe was crying again and he knew he had to be there. Even if just to pat the other on the back and mutter "there there, you rich bastard. Let it all out."

He smiled though and muttered. "Beat...I can talk about him how I want, cause he hates me. I can tell. Cause he growls at me everytime I come into the room... He doesn't growl like that at your Rough Stuff...and Kite's a million times more dangerous than me."

And for once, just this once, Atobe did as he was told... even if it was something as simple as crying when he was told to do so. And cry he did, trembling with sobs now rather than fear, crying and crying until finally, he could not find any more tears to shed, the fine silk sleeves of his pyjama thoroughly soaked.

"That's because he knows just how precious Eishirou is to me, and that he isn't dangerous to either Beat or I," he murmured, "...or rather, because Eishirou bribed him the moment they met. Don't take it personally; Beat doesn't like a lot of people, and it's his default mode to hate any new people he meets." With a somewhat twisted, teary smile, he added, "He really takes after his papa, the bastard."

Wakato sat there, feeing terribly akward while the other sobbed. He lightly just patted Atobe on the back, unsure of how to handle this other than to do that. He might have hugged the other boy but he was positive that the other wouldn't be all that open to such a gesture. It was more than enough that he just sit there now and be present for this. Letting Atobe know it was okay to do this.

Finally, when he was sure that the other was calm, Wakato pulled his hand away from the other's back and leaned a bit away to look at the other boy with a nervous grin. "Bribery...leave it to a guy like that...to bribe a dog..." He laughed a little, hoping to make the mood a bit lighter. "Yeah... You are. You totally are. Never said you weren't. Cause you're a bastard and I'm a dumbass, so we're golden. But...the dog isn'r like his owner. The dog looks better."

It took him an embarrassingly long time to calm down enough for the tears to come to a stop. "Eishirou just knows how to handle halfbreed mutts with a grudge against the entire human race," he murmured, glad to notice that his attempts at drying his face weren't botched by even more tears falling anymore. "And if you were trying to insult me... too bad I rather agree with you. Beat is the prettiest dog ever, no matter what anyone says."

Taking a deep breath, he finally, finally lifted his head up straight, his pose as regal as ever even as he surely looked horrible with his sleep-mussed hair and bloodshot eyes. "...I'm sorry to have... bothered you," he said as calmly as he could. "I'll find some way to make up for the inconvenience..."

Wakato didn't think anyone could cry that long, but this was Atobe and as far as he knew, Atobe did everything in an over the top manner. Be it tennis or eating or crying his eyes out, he did it better than everyone else. It was actually sort of annoying. Wakato didn't know how Keigo's boyfriend put with with it. Bit at least it seemed that things were getting back to normal. Or at least their kind of normal.

"He looks like a mop on legs..." Wakato observed, though really, Beat wasn't all that bad. But after this, he thought he needed something to make things feel less awkward. Because now, he was feeling decidedly strange, sitting on Atobe's bed, even though quite some time ago, he and Saeki had jumped on it. but now, he was pretty sedate and trying to hide a small yawn. "S'no problem, Atobe... We're a bother at all. Couldn't sleep anyways. So it's all good. And don't you worry...won't tell anything to anyone."

Atobe huffed a bit. "The prettiest mop on legs ever," he insisted. He'd be damned if he lost to Wakato in an argument... especially if it was about his beloved dog. "But still, I'm quite confident Eishirou won't give me up in favour of my dog, even if our only difference is that Beat is more good-looking."

He rolled his eyes, then. "Well, of course you couldn't sleep when I woke you up," he pointed out dryly. "Just let me apologize; it's not that often that I do such a thing. You should really feel special." Even then, he was the one who yawned openly. Crying was... an exhausting activity.

There is was. All huffy and indignant. That was the Atobe that Wakato knew. That was better. It was proof that this too would pass. Eventually. And now that he knew what was up, if the other boy had any more night terrors, Wakato would again brave the dog, and the boyfriend in order to sit next to his roommate and try hard to get him through it. It was just what friends did. Any maybe, just maybe, if he had enough practice with Atobe, he could find out what was eating Saeki and help that boy get through it as well. Cause in true form, Wakato managed to like the one person he really had no business liking. "But still a mop." He sniped back. "And I should hope not. Though I heard those Higa guys do strange things...Bunch of weirdos like that might just be into beastiality. Might explain your boyfriend's animal magnitism." He was asking for it, he knew. But if that was what it took to get Atobe out of this funk for good, so be it.

"And okay...Okay. You win. Don't you ever get tired of winning? Fine. Appology made and accepted. Now all there is for me to do is go and brave Nobely McNobleson the walking mop and get back to my own bed."

"You're just jealous," Atobe huffed, glaring at Wakato even though managing a proper scowl was quite challenging when the corner of his lips tried to curl up. "And are you trying to say that I am, in effect, an animal, or comparable to one? Because in that case I'm quite forced to disagree." At least now he actually managed to believe the other wasn't teasing him out of malice, though.

"Of course I always win. That's just my lot in life. Who knows, perhaps one day the world will actually start liking you as well," he chuckled then. "And Beat won't bite you... he has rather refined tastes, after all." In truth, Beat was very much not picky with his food, but at the very least he was well behaved. "Very noble he is, indeed, so much so someone wanted to poison him lest he pollute our lovely mansion..."

Perhaps he was. Actually more than perhaps. He was jealous. Because sometimes it was just hard to be the guy that didn't have anyone. He sometimes really missed his fan girls, because even if he didn't like them like that, they were always fun to go out with. But it seemed that only the really emotionally messed up ones got any luck. Captain Grumpy-pants (Sanada), His Royal Pain in the Ass (Atobe), His Royal Pain's Rough stuff (Kite). It was really sort of pathetic and made him wonder a bit what was wrong with him.But those weren't thoughts to be having when he'd just sat there and bailed the egoistical pain in the ass out of his dark place.

"The world like me? Me as Nadal or Federer or Sampras or whoever, yeah...me as me. Not a chance in hell. But I'm glad he won't bite me, even if it's because I'm not refined enough for his doggy palate. Though....your mansion...heh. You took your Rough Stuff to your mansion... I bet that flew well with the parental units..."

"Perhaps, if you spent more time as yourself instead of others," Atobe said quietly, "the world would come to know you as well. If your first reaction is to impersonate someone else, how could anyone learn to like you for yourself?" It was quite unthinkable to him, acting like another person... but then, in reality, he was just like Wakato. He had his public image and the one he allowed to show through among friends -- or here at the camp.

As Wakato brought up his parents, Atobe sighed. "I wouldn't know what my parents think of it. In all honesty, I don't remember just when I've last met my father... as for my mother, I did meet her in my grandma's funeral, but before that I have no idea. ...Nevertheless, I did make sure neither of them were anywhere near our main building in Tokyo before I took Eishirou there. Not because I'm not prepared to defend my choice to them, but because I'd rather postpone that argument, though sooner or later it'll have to happen... I was quite shocked, really, at how kindly his parents welcomed me. I know very well my parents will hardly be as kind to him when I finally allow them to meet." But for now, he'd just enjoy this little time he had with his beloved without any pressure from his parents. Just for now...

Wakato laughed. "You sound just like that sexy old coach of mine. She was always waiting for my own tennis. But I'm already a Masterpiece. So don't fix what's not broken, right? But those are my issues and we're still on your issues." He bounced just a little on the bed before turning to look at Atobe with a conspiratorial tone.

"So they didn't meet him...But the maids and the butlers and the horse groomers and the...well whatever the hell you have there, did. So daddy's butler saw him...you think daddy's butler will tell on you? Did you tell them he was your personal butler? If he butles as good as he beats people up...Maybe your body guard... tell me..tell me. Did you two have illicit master servant body guard sex? Was it hot? I bet it was hot. Those strong arms holding you down while he..." It was hard to tell if Wakato was being serious or not about it. Honestly, he was just making sure Atobe was back to normal before he went back to his side of the room and went back to bed.

"You forget... those maids and butlers and so on are the ones who raised me. They're the ones who watched my tennis matches, not my parents. Most of them were quite happy to accept I simply took a friend along; it's not like he's the first friend I have brought as a guest, though he is quite different from the Hyoutei breed. I do believe there were some who suspected more... but the ones who would guess are also the ones who would never tell." Or so he liked to believe.

Wakato's little speculations, though, made him frown even as he couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know... looking for more information, perhaps, so as to better impersonate me?" He swatted the other half-heartedly, not even sure if he'd hit. "Just keep my boyfriend out of your dirty little fantasies, please... and I promise to keep you out of mine." And in any case, he quite wanted to sleep after the somewhat restless beginning of his night. The images Wakato's words brought to his mind were... not quite contributing to that particular cause.

Wakato supposed so. But he had to make sure. Because it seemed like Atobe had enough drama in his life as it was without the help telling the parental units that their hyper spoiled heir was spoiling himself with something they couldn't provide for him. That of the company of a violent, somewhat attractive Okinawan. That said, he knew that he had over stayed his welcome on Atobe's soft soft bed.

The other swatted at him, but Wakato was already off and moving away, a soft laugh on his lips. Soft but tired. "I'm sure you'll have good dreams, now, right? About your Rough Stuff and you and those kind of games." He ambled back off to his own bed and flopped, frowning. Atobe's bed was so much nicer.

Rolling over, he muttered softly, "So have good dreams about you and him, okay. No more nightmares. Cause if I have to go over there again tonight, I'm going to be sharing that bed with you." He sighed and closed his eyes. "So have a good sleep, Atobe... Cause I don't think I'm the one you want in there with you."

"Be glad I'm tired," Atobe murmured, "or I'd throw a pillow at you." He could have very well done it. It wasn't like he didn't have a pillow to spare. But, well, he was indeed tired, and Wakato had helped him. In a way. Somewhat.

He hugged himself tighter momentarily as he heard Wakato's footsteps in the dark, but forced himself to stay calm. He'd been childish enough for one nigh. He'd already cried his fears tonight.

Finally lying down, he closed his cried eyes, murmuring a soft response of, "You're most certainly not who I'd like to share my bed with... and I doubt Eishirou would like to hear I have shared it with you." Then, after a soft yawn, he added, so quietly he wasn't sure if Wakato even heard it, "Thank you..."

And then, as though even himself shocked at the uncharacteristic behaviour, he fell asleep.