Hiyoshi’s perspective on a “chance” encounter between Hyoutei and Seigaku, and especially their captains.
The first anyone really knew of something going on was at the end of practice a few days later when Atobe answered his cell phone and suddenly had the gleam in his eye that meant someone was going to regret his existence very soon.
Heat, tennis, sex.
Full summer had arrived, bringing Keigo’s seasonal temper with it. It was beneath him to be cranky, but the heat made him restless. This was the one time of year when he genuinely envied Jirou’s ability to sleep through anything, including heat waves.
Tezuka convinces Atobe to take things a little slower.
Tezuka was currently engaged in poaching the fish with ginger shoots. This otherwise blameless activity was holding all of Keigo’s attention, because the look in Tezuka’s eyes at one or two points during the afternoon indicated to him that his fishing partner had, to put it euphemistically, plans for the evening.
Atobe watches Tezuka, and reflects.
Keigo didn’t have a great many examples to work from, yet, but he had come to the conclusion that Tezuka Kunimitsu never relaxed completely, even in sleep.
Mild chaos and vast snarkiness as many paths cross at a music store.
He’d really never thought a simple trip to the music store would be so harrowing.
Atobe is rather tired of Tezuka brooding, and decides it’s time for another conversation with Fuji to see if the problem is amenable to a swift kick.
He couldn’t believe Fuji had misread Kunimitsu that badly. No, wait, he could believe it; after all, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t known plenty of intelligent, talented individuals who where, nevertheless, gifted with the people skills of dried seaweed. It was just that he expected this kind of thing from Ryou, not from Fuji.
Tezuka coaxes Atobe into an afternoon of relaxation. Written for the Porn Battle prompt: Tezuka/Atobe, languid.
It was Kunimitsu’s personal discovery. If Keigo was petted for long enough he unwound, forgot to be driven and arrogant, and relaxed into a languid sprawl of limbs, lounging against Kunimitsu’s chest for hours at a time without protest.