Drinks & More [R; Atobe/Sanada]
Title: Drinks & More
Author: worblehat
Genre: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Atobe/Sanada
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, but that's obvious.
Notes: Yeah, I'm OTPing pretty hard these days. Oh, and unbeta'd. Sorry on both counts?
Summary: Atobe has a party. Sanada goes.
Word Count: 2,569
It was supposed to be a party that lasted well into the night, with much adoration of the party host. It ended up being a party that only Rikkai and half of Hyotei attended, grudgingly. Atobe could hear Shishido in the other room, getting loud and defensive at Kirihara's practiced taunting.
He looked at Sanada, wine glass in hand - it was from the store his father rarely touched, and therefore cheap enough to impress the others without being too costly to offer. Three bottles sat open on the bar, half-empty glasses scattered across the den. The glass in Sanada's hand was empty and Atobe reached for the bottle at his left, uncorking it carefully and pouring more into the empty glass.
"I didn't know you were such an accomplished drinker," said Atobe as he poured some wine into his own glass. He felt pleasantly buzzed, content to be at the point where the world blurred around the edges, just enough to make things seem like they were glowing.
"I'm not," said Sanada, taking a sip. He looked at Atobe. "You just keep pouring more into my glass."
"You could try not drinking it," said Atobe, lowering the bottle to the floor. Normally there were attendants to do this sort of thing, but Atobe had given them the night off in favour of better access to alcohol.
Sanada shrugged.
Atobe swirled the wine in his glass, glad of the sudden silence around them. He wasn't one hundred percent clear on how it had happened, but somehow the rest of their teams had wandered off, either to leave the mansion entirely or to argue at each other - as Kirihara and Shishido seemed to be doing now, with a protest of "Shishido-senpai, please be careful of that vase!" from Choutarou. He knew he should probably be more concerned about what vase and the hushed tones that followed a suspiciously broken sound. But his knee was touching Sanada's and he didn't feel like moving.
Sanada wasn't bad looking, but he was so straight-edged - a trait that enticed and also annoyed Atobe. Sometimes Atobe would entertain the idea of getting Sanada alone, caught unaware enough to answer any question he posed - maybe even to the point where it slipped out that he had been admiring Atobe for a while. He imagined it in a dimly-lit setting, with maybe a bit of alcohol on-hand and -
"Sanada," said Atobe, sitting closer until his knee rested against the inside of Sanada's thigh. Sanada, for his part, only blinked.
A smile spread across Atobe's face - one filled with self-confidence, determination and mischievousness. "What is Rikkai's stance on dating people from other schools?"
Sanada sat up, giving Atobe a weird look as he did so. "Why are you asking me?"
Atobe tipped his glass to his lips. "Just curious," he said before taking a sip.
"I don't know..." began Sanada. "It's never come up."
"I see," said Atobe, swirling his glass around, more for effect than anything else. "Do you want to know Hyotei's policy?"
"Not really."
Atobe frowned.
Sanada chucked; Atobe's eyes went wide, which made him laugh a little longer. "I don't know what you're up to Atobe," he said, "but it doesn't look like it's working."
"We'll see about that," Atobe glared.
He waited a few more minutes before trying again; until Sanada drained his glass, holding still as Atobe filled it for the third time that night.
"Sanada."
"What?"
Atobe leaned in. "How many times a day do you get yourself off?"
"...huh?"
"Ore-sama is very interested to know," said Atobe, smirking at the discomfort on Sanada's face and trying not to think about the embarrassment he was fighting not to show on his own features.
"That's perverted."
"Excuse me. Ore-sama is not a pervert."
Sanada grunted. "I don't do...that," he said, eyes not quite meeting Atobe's.
Atobe snorted.
"Why would you...never mind," said Sanada after a few awkward moments of silence had passed.
"Ah?"
Sanada pulled his hat low over his eyes. "I said never mind"
"I know you did," said Atobe, starting to feel a little dizzy; he'd overdone it on the drinking. His head was swimming more than it had ever done before. He usually found Sanada attractive but it was something he could dismiss; right now was different and his body seemed to be demanding more than just teasing conversation. He rested his hand on his own knee, not apologising when it slid halfway onto Sanada's thigh. "I was ignoring you," he said, trying to keep the slur out of his voice.
Atobe could feel Sanada's whole body tense under his fingertips; he wondered if that was a triumph or if Sanada was going to jump up any moment now and run screaming from the mansion.
"...is it warm in here?" Sanada asked eventually.
"Huh?" asked Atobe, confused at the question. "No."
Sanada sat forward and Atobe's heart jumped; it slowed to normal when he realised Sanada was merely unzipping his jacket, pulling it off awkwardly, fingers fumbling a little with the zipper. It landed softly next to Sanada and he sat back, looking at Atobe from under his hat. "That's better," he said vaguely, taking another sip.
"Sanada -"
"Are you sure the heater's not on?" Sanada interrupted.
"Yes," answered Atobe, practically growling. "Take off your stupid hat," he said, reaching for it before Sanada could protest. He placed it in his lap as his other hand ran through Sanada's hair. "Air your head out," he said, wincing at the strange arrangement of words and silently blaming the alcohol for the huge dip in his usual eloquence.
It took the better part of a minute for Atobe to realise he was still running his hands slowly through Sanada's hair, pushing it back in thin streams.
It took him twice as long to realise Sanada was letting him.
"Feels nice," said Sanada, and Atobe realised his eyes were closed. His head leaned to the side, giving Atobe a slightly better angle to work with.
He wasn't sure if it was he who moved or Sanada, but he was certain that their bodies hadn't been that close when Sanada first started complaining about the heat; Sanada's legs were on either side of Atobe's thighs, one hand squeezing gently at the spot just above Atobe's right knee. His head was lower now, breathing evenly...against Atobe's lips, forehead pressing against Atobe's.
"Atobe," Sanada breathed, the name hitting Atobe's breath in a warm puff that made a hot shudder slide down his spine.
"Ah?" he breathed back.
Sanada's head moved again, slow and awkward; Atobe pulled back and down, lips meeting his accidentally. Both stilled at the unintended contact, until Atobe exhaled and Sanada breathed in, lips shy but determined, moving against Atobe's clumsily, tongue sliding hotly against Atobe's, a noise of contentment muffled in messy kisses.
It ended with Atobe's teeth pulling teasingly at Sanada's lower lip - something he'd had done to him a few times but had never remembered to try himself. Sanada's eyes remained closed but he drew a shaky breath as he rested his forehead against Atobe's once more.
"Atobe."
"Hm?"
He could hear Sanada swallowing, tongue moving over his lips nervously. "I..." Sanada swallowed again, throat dry. "I'm...sort of turned on."
Atobe felt dizzy again.
"Maybe you should, um...sit closer. Like...here."
Atobe looked at the place Sanada was indicating with his hand. He looked at Sanada, who face flushed a little darker.
It wasn't a habit he had, sitting in other people's laps. He wasn't sure that you were supposed to let someone just put you onto themselves, but that's what happened, Sanada's hands firm at his waist, tugging until Atobe's knees bent, landing on the couch as Atobe sat.
He resisted the urge to start kissing again, pulling back instead and ignoring the alcohol coursing through his veins, insisting that he rub, touch, feel and that he do it now. "Was that your first kiss?" he asked, suddenly curious.
"No."
"With a boy?" Atobe prompted.
Sanada shook his head. "No."
Atobe's eyes widened. "...Ah?"
"I kissed Yukimura once."
Something seemed to shift in the air then. Atobe didn't mind Yukimura - in fact, he barely thought about the Rikkai team captain. But now he didn't seem to be able to banish the fair hair, the soft voice, the kind and gentle eyes from his mind. "Ore-sama," he said carefully, "...was second choice?"
Sanada opened his mouth to reply but was promptly cut off by Atobe.
"Ore-sama is never second choice," he threatened, one hand sliding down Sanada's chest to the erection he was only partly unsurprised to find. His fingers moved back and forth experimentally; the furthest he'd gone with anyone was kissing and he wasn't all that sure what was supposed to happen. However, the need for Sanada to focus on him and not Yukimura was nearly-blinding in its insistence and Atobe upped his tempo.
"A...tobe," Sanada moaned, head falling forward, against Atobe's chest, breaths were hot and uneven.
Atobe stroked faster.
"Atobe," said Sanada a little more loudly, his hand covering Atobe's, stopping it. He looked at Atobe, eyes steady. "I never said Yukimura kissed back."
It took a few seconds for Atobe's mind to take in this point. "So?"
Sanada sighed and leaned back a little. "So?" he repeated. "Why do you think I came to this stupid party?"
"My parties aren't -"
"You know what I mean," Sanada interrupted.
"Hmph," said Atobe, refusing to respond for a few seconds. "I don't remember there being a special reason for your attendance, fukubuchou," he added mockingly.
"I thought I'd get a chance to get you alone," said Sanada evenly, making Atobe's heart do that hammer-hammer-hammer thing he both liked and detested. He kept his eyes on Atobe even as his words stopped and started awkwardly. "I thought...well I didn't know what...just wanted to tell you...that. This." He lowered his gaze. "I guess my plan backfired a little."
Atobe looked at his face in confusion. "You call this -" he said, sliding his fingers beneath Sanada's trousers and around his length - "backfiring?"
Sanada bit down on his lower lip, the sight implanting itself permanently into Atobe's memory. He didn't have long to admire it as Sanada's fingers slid through the thin loops on his trousers, urging his body closer, till their lips met again.
This time Sanada's mouth was more demanding, with teeth and tongue and less hesitation. Atobe tried to keep up, his concentration going out the window when one of Sanada's hands fumbled with the zipper, pulling down and sliding one hand around Atobe's waist, squeezing hard at the curve before circling back to the front. There was only the barest of pauses before he maneuvered Atobe's cock free, hand beginning to pump the solid hardness.
Their lips slid apart and Atobe smirked. "I thought you said you didn't do things like this," he said, thrusting shallowly against the flat, warm palm. He closed his eyes, the thought of it's Sanada's hand... running through his mind again and again. He'd done this alone before, but it was far different having someone else touch him like this, in a rhythm he wasn't used to.
"I lied," said Sanada, breathing ragged as Atobe's hand worked around his cock.
"I...knew it," Atobe gasped as he came, hand still working feverishly on Sanada; moaning when he felt warmth spray along his fingers, his own body shuddering when he saw himself spill across Sanada's.
The room fell silent as their breathing steadied.
"Sanada."
"What?"
"I'm sticky."
"...oh."
Atobe pulled himself off of Sanada, watching until Sanada did the same. He guided Sanada towards the nearest bathroom, choosing one of the more lavish ones for himself. He tried not to think too much about anything; his heart was still beating pretty hard and he wondered how he could feel more nervous after he'd just done that with Sanada.
Pushing his hair out of his eyes with a practiced movement, he walked back to the main hall where he found Sanada, backpack on his shoulder.
"Well. Thanks," said Sanada.
Atobe stepped closer until they were directly face-to-face. "Where are you going?"
"The others left," Sanada explained. "I was going to go before the last bus -"
"Bus?"
"Yes. Public transportation," Sanada supplied.
Atobe stared at him for several seconds; Sanada didn't fidget, though to Atobe it seemed like he might do so any moment. He placed his hand on Sanada's shoulder and slid off the black backpack. When it landed on the floor, he kicked it away, not looking as it skidded easily across the recently-waxed floor.
Sanada glared.
Atobe reached for his hand, tugging him along. Sanada's hand was less sweaty now, a sign that he might be sobering up. For Atobe, the night had been strange, but not unwelcome; but Sanada's words had left him feeling a little unsettled. Firstly, that he hadn't been Sanada's first choice; but more so that -
"Where are you dragging me?" asked Sanada irritably, trying to take back his hand unsuccessfully.
"To lie down," Atobe answered promptly, giving a harder tug to Sanada's hand than was necessary.
"What?"
"You're sleeping over," said Atobe, pausing in his step to look at Sanada. "It's not safe to take the bus in your intoxicated state."
Sanada considered him briefly before rolling his eyes. "I'm fine," he said, trying to pull away again; when he was unsuccessful yet again, he sighed. "Nothing's going to happen to me on the bus."
"You can't know that," said Atobe. "I wouldn't want to take responsibility for some crazed person's attempts to make you...whatever it is insane people do to tennis players," he finished lamely, one hand waving in the air vaguely. When Sanada said nothing, he began to walk again.
Sanada stayed put, almost causing Atobe to stumble. "You're worried I did that because I was drunk?" he asked, causing Atobe to have a mild panic attack. He didn't like it when people read his thoughts; they were supposed to keep out of his brain, thanks very much.
"I wouldn't have let you keep pouring me wine if I hadn't been somewhat aware of where it might lead," Sanada continued, his voice rough; eyes soft with concern. "If that's why you're keeping me here - " he squeezed Atobe's hand, just barely enough to feel - "you don't need to worry about that."
Atobe's heart did that other weird thing he wasn't sure he liked, where it fluttered without stopping. He turned around, sending a long glance all the way up and then down Sanada's body. "Maybe I just want to see what you look like beneath my covers."
Sanada snorted, the concern in his face clearing into an amused almost-grin. "Are you sure you don't just want to see what I look like beneath you?" he asked, face going red as soon as the words had been said aloud.
"Well," said Atobe, turning to smirk at Sanada, his own face starting to match Sanada's as he led the way, "that too."
Author: worblehat
Genre: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Atobe/Sanada
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, but that's obvious.
Notes: Yeah, I'm OTPing pretty hard these days. Oh, and unbeta'd. Sorry on both counts?
Summary: Atobe has a party. Sanada goes.
Word Count: 2,569
It was supposed to be a party that lasted well into the night, with much adoration of the party host. It ended up being a party that only Rikkai and half of Hyotei attended, grudgingly. Atobe could hear Shishido in the other room, getting loud and defensive at Kirihara's practiced taunting.
He looked at Sanada, wine glass in hand - it was from the store his father rarely touched, and therefore cheap enough to impress the others without being too costly to offer. Three bottles sat open on the bar, half-empty glasses scattered across the den. The glass in Sanada's hand was empty and Atobe reached for the bottle at his left, uncorking it carefully and pouring more into the empty glass.
"I didn't know you were such an accomplished drinker," said Atobe as he poured some wine into his own glass. He felt pleasantly buzzed, content to be at the point where the world blurred around the edges, just enough to make things seem like they were glowing.
"I'm not," said Sanada, taking a sip. He looked at Atobe. "You just keep pouring more into my glass."
"You could try not drinking it," said Atobe, lowering the bottle to the floor. Normally there were attendants to do this sort of thing, but Atobe had given them the night off in favour of better access to alcohol.
Sanada shrugged.
Atobe swirled the wine in his glass, glad of the sudden silence around them. He wasn't one hundred percent clear on how it had happened, but somehow the rest of their teams had wandered off, either to leave the mansion entirely or to argue at each other - as Kirihara and Shishido seemed to be doing now, with a protest of "Shishido-senpai, please be careful of that vase!" from Choutarou. He knew he should probably be more concerned about what vase and the hushed tones that followed a suspiciously broken sound. But his knee was touching Sanada's and he didn't feel like moving.
Sanada wasn't bad looking, but he was so straight-edged - a trait that enticed and also annoyed Atobe. Sometimes Atobe would entertain the idea of getting Sanada alone, caught unaware enough to answer any question he posed - maybe even to the point where it slipped out that he had been admiring Atobe for a while. He imagined it in a dimly-lit setting, with maybe a bit of alcohol on-hand and -
"Sanada," said Atobe, sitting closer until his knee rested against the inside of Sanada's thigh. Sanada, for his part, only blinked.
A smile spread across Atobe's face - one filled with self-confidence, determination and mischievousness. "What is Rikkai's stance on dating people from other schools?"
Sanada sat up, giving Atobe a weird look as he did so. "Why are you asking me?"
Atobe tipped his glass to his lips. "Just curious," he said before taking a sip.
"I don't know..." began Sanada. "It's never come up."
"I see," said Atobe, swirling his glass around, more for effect than anything else. "Do you want to know Hyotei's policy?"
"Not really."
Atobe frowned.
Sanada chucked; Atobe's eyes went wide, which made him laugh a little longer. "I don't know what you're up to Atobe," he said, "but it doesn't look like it's working."
"We'll see about that," Atobe glared.
He waited a few more minutes before trying again; until Sanada drained his glass, holding still as Atobe filled it for the third time that night.
"Sanada."
"What?"
Atobe leaned in. "How many times a day do you get yourself off?"
"...huh?"
"Ore-sama is very interested to know," said Atobe, smirking at the discomfort on Sanada's face and trying not to think about the embarrassment he was fighting not to show on his own features.
"That's perverted."
"Excuse me. Ore-sama is not a pervert."
Sanada grunted. "I don't do...that," he said, eyes not quite meeting Atobe's.
Atobe snorted.
"Why would you...never mind," said Sanada after a few awkward moments of silence had passed.
"Ah?"
Sanada pulled his hat low over his eyes. "I said never mind"
"I know you did," said Atobe, starting to feel a little dizzy; he'd overdone it on the drinking. His head was swimming more than it had ever done before. He usually found Sanada attractive but it was something he could dismiss; right now was different and his body seemed to be demanding more than just teasing conversation. He rested his hand on his own knee, not apologising when it slid halfway onto Sanada's thigh. "I was ignoring you," he said, trying to keep the slur out of his voice.
Atobe could feel Sanada's whole body tense under his fingertips; he wondered if that was a triumph or if Sanada was going to jump up any moment now and run screaming from the mansion.
"...is it warm in here?" Sanada asked eventually.
"Huh?" asked Atobe, confused at the question. "No."
Sanada sat forward and Atobe's heart jumped; it slowed to normal when he realised Sanada was merely unzipping his jacket, pulling it off awkwardly, fingers fumbling a little with the zipper. It landed softly next to Sanada and he sat back, looking at Atobe from under his hat. "That's better," he said vaguely, taking another sip.
"Sanada -"
"Are you sure the heater's not on?" Sanada interrupted.
"Yes," answered Atobe, practically growling. "Take off your stupid hat," he said, reaching for it before Sanada could protest. He placed it in his lap as his other hand ran through Sanada's hair. "Air your head out," he said, wincing at the strange arrangement of words and silently blaming the alcohol for the huge dip in his usual eloquence.
It took the better part of a minute for Atobe to realise he was still running his hands slowly through Sanada's hair, pushing it back in thin streams.
It took him twice as long to realise Sanada was letting him.
"Feels nice," said Sanada, and Atobe realised his eyes were closed. His head leaned to the side, giving Atobe a slightly better angle to work with.
He wasn't sure if it was he who moved or Sanada, but he was certain that their bodies hadn't been that close when Sanada first started complaining about the heat; Sanada's legs were on either side of Atobe's thighs, one hand squeezing gently at the spot just above Atobe's right knee. His head was lower now, breathing evenly...against Atobe's lips, forehead pressing against Atobe's.
"Atobe," Sanada breathed, the name hitting Atobe's breath in a warm puff that made a hot shudder slide down his spine.
"Ah?" he breathed back.
Sanada's head moved again, slow and awkward; Atobe pulled back and down, lips meeting his accidentally. Both stilled at the unintended contact, until Atobe exhaled and Sanada breathed in, lips shy but determined, moving against Atobe's clumsily, tongue sliding hotly against Atobe's, a noise of contentment muffled in messy kisses.
It ended with Atobe's teeth pulling teasingly at Sanada's lower lip - something he'd had done to him a few times but had never remembered to try himself. Sanada's eyes remained closed but he drew a shaky breath as he rested his forehead against Atobe's once more.
"Atobe."
"Hm?"
He could hear Sanada swallowing, tongue moving over his lips nervously. "I..." Sanada swallowed again, throat dry. "I'm...sort of turned on."
Atobe felt dizzy again.
"Maybe you should, um...sit closer. Like...here."
Atobe looked at the place Sanada was indicating with his hand. He looked at Sanada, who face flushed a little darker.
It wasn't a habit he had, sitting in other people's laps. He wasn't sure that you were supposed to let someone just put you onto themselves, but that's what happened, Sanada's hands firm at his waist, tugging until Atobe's knees bent, landing on the couch as Atobe sat.
He resisted the urge to start kissing again, pulling back instead and ignoring the alcohol coursing through his veins, insisting that he rub, touch, feel and that he do it now. "Was that your first kiss?" he asked, suddenly curious.
"No."
"With a boy?" Atobe prompted.
Sanada shook his head. "No."
Atobe's eyes widened. "...Ah?"
"I kissed Yukimura once."
Something seemed to shift in the air then. Atobe didn't mind Yukimura - in fact, he barely thought about the Rikkai team captain. But now he didn't seem to be able to banish the fair hair, the soft voice, the kind and gentle eyes from his mind. "Ore-sama," he said carefully, "...was second choice?"
Sanada opened his mouth to reply but was promptly cut off by Atobe.
"Ore-sama is never second choice," he threatened, one hand sliding down Sanada's chest to the erection he was only partly unsurprised to find. His fingers moved back and forth experimentally; the furthest he'd gone with anyone was kissing and he wasn't all that sure what was supposed to happen. However, the need for Sanada to focus on him and not Yukimura was nearly-blinding in its insistence and Atobe upped his tempo.
"A...tobe," Sanada moaned, head falling forward, against Atobe's chest, breaths were hot and uneven.
Atobe stroked faster.
"Atobe," said Sanada a little more loudly, his hand covering Atobe's, stopping it. He looked at Atobe, eyes steady. "I never said Yukimura kissed back."
It took a few seconds for Atobe's mind to take in this point. "So?"
Sanada sighed and leaned back a little. "So?" he repeated. "Why do you think I came to this stupid party?"
"My parties aren't -"
"You know what I mean," Sanada interrupted.
"Hmph," said Atobe, refusing to respond for a few seconds. "I don't remember there being a special reason for your attendance, fukubuchou," he added mockingly.
"I thought I'd get a chance to get you alone," said Sanada evenly, making Atobe's heart do that hammer-hammer-hammer thing he both liked and detested. He kept his eyes on Atobe even as his words stopped and started awkwardly. "I thought...well I didn't know what...just wanted to tell you...that. This." He lowered his gaze. "I guess my plan backfired a little."
Atobe looked at his face in confusion. "You call this -" he said, sliding his fingers beneath Sanada's trousers and around his length - "backfiring?"
Sanada bit down on his lower lip, the sight implanting itself permanently into Atobe's memory. He didn't have long to admire it as Sanada's fingers slid through the thin loops on his trousers, urging his body closer, till their lips met again.
This time Sanada's mouth was more demanding, with teeth and tongue and less hesitation. Atobe tried to keep up, his concentration going out the window when one of Sanada's hands fumbled with the zipper, pulling down and sliding one hand around Atobe's waist, squeezing hard at the curve before circling back to the front. There was only the barest of pauses before he maneuvered Atobe's cock free, hand beginning to pump the solid hardness.
Their lips slid apart and Atobe smirked. "I thought you said you didn't do things like this," he said, thrusting shallowly against the flat, warm palm. He closed his eyes, the thought of it's Sanada's hand... running through his mind again and again. He'd done this alone before, but it was far different having someone else touch him like this, in a rhythm he wasn't used to.
"I lied," said Sanada, breathing ragged as Atobe's hand worked around his cock.
"I...knew it," Atobe gasped as he came, hand still working feverishly on Sanada; moaning when he felt warmth spray along his fingers, his own body shuddering when he saw himself spill across Sanada's.
The room fell silent as their breathing steadied.
"Sanada."
"What?"
"I'm sticky."
"...oh."
Atobe pulled himself off of Sanada, watching until Sanada did the same. He guided Sanada towards the nearest bathroom, choosing one of the more lavish ones for himself. He tried not to think too much about anything; his heart was still beating pretty hard and he wondered how he could feel more nervous after he'd just done that with Sanada.
Pushing his hair out of his eyes with a practiced movement, he walked back to the main hall where he found Sanada, backpack on his shoulder.
"Well. Thanks," said Sanada.
Atobe stepped closer until they were directly face-to-face. "Where are you going?"
"The others left," Sanada explained. "I was going to go before the last bus -"
"Bus?"
"Yes. Public transportation," Sanada supplied.
Atobe stared at him for several seconds; Sanada didn't fidget, though to Atobe it seemed like he might do so any moment. He placed his hand on Sanada's shoulder and slid off the black backpack. When it landed on the floor, he kicked it away, not looking as it skidded easily across the recently-waxed floor.
Sanada glared.
Atobe reached for his hand, tugging him along. Sanada's hand was less sweaty now, a sign that he might be sobering up. For Atobe, the night had been strange, but not unwelcome; but Sanada's words had left him feeling a little unsettled. Firstly, that he hadn't been Sanada's first choice; but more so that -
"Where are you dragging me?" asked Sanada irritably, trying to take back his hand unsuccessfully.
"To lie down," Atobe answered promptly, giving a harder tug to Sanada's hand than was necessary.
"What?"
"You're sleeping over," said Atobe, pausing in his step to look at Sanada. "It's not safe to take the bus in your intoxicated state."
Sanada considered him briefly before rolling his eyes. "I'm fine," he said, trying to pull away again; when he was unsuccessful yet again, he sighed. "Nothing's going to happen to me on the bus."
"You can't know that," said Atobe. "I wouldn't want to take responsibility for some crazed person's attempts to make you...whatever it is insane people do to tennis players," he finished lamely, one hand waving in the air vaguely. When Sanada said nothing, he began to walk again.
Sanada stayed put, almost causing Atobe to stumble. "You're worried I did that because I was drunk?" he asked, causing Atobe to have a mild panic attack. He didn't like it when people read his thoughts; they were supposed to keep out of his brain, thanks very much.
"I wouldn't have let you keep pouring me wine if I hadn't been somewhat aware of where it might lead," Sanada continued, his voice rough; eyes soft with concern. "If that's why you're keeping me here - " he squeezed Atobe's hand, just barely enough to feel - "you don't need to worry about that."
Atobe's heart did that other weird thing he wasn't sure he liked, where it fluttered without stopping. He turned around, sending a long glance all the way up and then down Sanada's body. "Maybe I just want to see what you look like beneath my covers."
Sanada snorted, the concern in his face clearing into an amused almost-grin. "Are you sure you don't just want to see what I look like beneath you?" he asked, face going red as soon as the words had been said aloud.
"Well," said Atobe, turning to smirk at Sanada, his own face starting to match Sanada's as he led the way, "that too."