Please read the warnings, guys. I don't want any bleeding eyes or screaming children. XD;;; But uh, please enjoy!!
Title: Responsibility (or, Five Times in which Atobe is Not Selfish)
Disclaimer: Konomi's, though, after this, he might disown them.
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Dub-con, shota, non-explicit m/m sex, language, general mind-fuckage
Author's Note: This is for britkit27! She requested Sakaki/Atobe, and so here it is! Sorry I didn't work the Jaguar in... next time, I promise!
Atobe is a freshman, not even a Regular yet. It's the second week of school and he's new on the team but doesn't show it; he's radiant and confident as he always has been and always will be. He has visions of grandeur that he knows are not delusions; he's what the teams needs, he'll lead them, someday, to nationals, to victory. But first, he has to get on the team... still, it won't be that hard. He knows he's talented and he shows off when he can, and he can always find opportunities to show off. He's seen the coach looking his way more than once, and when Atobe catches him looking, he only smiles a sort of knowing smile. Atobe smiles back in a way that he knows makes adults like him though he doesn't understand why; it's the look he uses when he's forgotten his homework that makes the teacher let him slide. It's only occasionally at first, but as the weeks go on, Atobe sees the coach looking at him more and more often, and he's sure that's a good thing.
At the end of the second week, the coach, Sakaki-sensei, calls Atobe to his office, and Atobe is certain he's being given special privileges, because he's talented and amazing and he deserves it. It's only reasonable. It makes sense. He plans out the visit beforehand in his mind; he'll flatter the coach and be obedient and good, because that will be what will land him on the team. He can see the way it will play out in his mind.
Of course, Atobe is correct-- after all, he is talented-- but only partially. What he doesn't expect is when Sakaki-sensei pulls him into his lap and kisses him and whispers all sorts of pretty things into his ear until he relaxes enough for Sakaki-sensei to take off his clothes, and then--
Afterwards, limping to the waiting limousine, Atobe thinks it is because he is special. Little does he know how wrong he is.
It's over a year before Atobe, no longer quite so deceived by the naivete of childhood, realizes that it happens to other people, too. It's Oshitari who gives it away, in the end, because he's the other junior anywhere near as good as Atobe, and therefore the only junior Atobe will lower himself to talk to at the beginning of second year. Oshitari doesn't say it outright, just as Atobe would never say outright that he's spent an unseemly amount of time in the coach's office doing unseemly things with the coach, but when Oshitari tells him he has to meet with Sakaki-sensei after practice, Atobe suddenly realizes and then it all makes sense.
There must be a look of obvious realization on his face, because Oshitari grimaces and rises to go, and then suddenly Atobe realizes what he must do. After all, he's seen Oshitari with the limber redhead, he knows Oshitari needs his freedom more, and so he places a hand on Oshitari's shoulder and tells him to go home with a cocky grin. Somehow, Oshitari seems to understand, because he nods, and then Atobe heads off, himself, to Sakaki-sensei's office.
Sakaki-sensei is surprised to see him, but doesn't seem too upset; Atobe easily explains everything away-- he wanted to see Sakaki-sensei, he told Oshitari to go away when he met him on the way to the coach's office, he wants the attention. Sakaki-sensei believes easily because Sakaki-sensei is easy to flatter, especially when Atobe will so willingly lay himself out for his coach to do whatever he wishes-- it isn't that bad.
And besides, at least he's saving Oshitari for the time being, and if nothing else, that fact is comforting as he eases away the soreness that evening in the bath, behind closed doors, where no one can see the bite marks littering his skin.
It's the end of second year, and much to Atobe's discomfort, the Regulars, both graduating and incoming, have found themselves at Sakaki's apartment to celebrate. There's champagne and nice food and smooth, slow music that possibly adds to the intoxication in the atmosphere, and Atobe realizes only ten minutes in that he's already stressed because he can't keep track of everyone he's ended up swearing to himself to protect, and the party hasn't hardly begun. He knows everyone's safety isn't his responsibility, he knows it, but he somehow can't bring himself to believe it. And it's not just Oshitari anymore, either, it's Jirou, too, and Shishido, and Oshitari's redheaded main squeeze who isn't anything special at tennis and whose name Atobe can never remember, and that cute silver-haired freshman with the fast serve, and Taki... Atobe can barely keep track of them all, anymore, but he's seen Sakaki eying them all and so he has to be extra careful, extra concerned, extra aware. No thank you to the champagne, though it's tempting, nothing to distract him. It's his responsibility.
He's doing well until Sakaki catches him off guard and grabs him by the wrist and drags him to the front of the room, tapping his glass with a spoon in order to get everyone's attention. Pulling Atobe perhaps closer than might have been his best judgement (but then again, he had been drinking, Atobe had seen him), he addresses the crowds with his announcement: Atobe will be captain of the team next year, and isn't that lovely, and everyone would of course respect him, and there should be a toast! And then a champagne glass is pressed into Atobe's hand and he doesn't have a choice anymore, and it's a shame he's so unhappy about this, because it really is very nice champagne.
He may be sophisticated, but Atobe is only thirteen, and he knows he can only take so much before he'll lose it entirely. Already, he can only pick out two or three of his self-assigned charges in the masses, and with his fleeting sobriety goes his ability to concentrate, and so, as he hands his empty glass back to Sakaki, he knows what he must do.
The next morning is the first time Atobe's woken up beside Sakaki, and he prays silently as he lets himself out that it will be the last.
Atobe is guilt-ridden when, practicing late, he notices Shishido limp from the direction of Sakaki's office after their ridiculous loss to Fudomine in the Prefectural Tournament. Everyone already knew that Shishido was like a prisoner for the guillotine after he was stupid enough to lose to a no-name school, and Atobe had been fine with axing him from the Regulars, but he hadn't foreseen this. He's sure he can read Sakaki, when he's planning on doing anything drastic, he's sure he knows when to intervene and when to steer clear, but apparently he hadn't been paying enough attention-- perhaps because he, himself, had been bitter towards Shishido, ruining Atobe's chances at going to Nationals, hurting Atobe's personal pride as captain...
But while the pride is nice, and Atobe is always certain of his own skills, he knows, really, that the bragging rights aren't what is important about being captain. It's the responsibility, and Atobe is responsible for protecting his teammates from their sick bastard of a coach. That is fact, that is certain, and since he's been careless... well, he knows he has to do something to make it better. So, with a sigh, he packs away his racquet and gets dressed (though he sometimes wonders why he bothers) and heads to the coach's office.
Sakaki is mad, that's for certain, and that, really, is a danger in and of itself, but Atobe, at this point, is really prepared for anything. He knows how to play Sakaki; submission, sweet words, promises, compliments are a sure way to calm him down, and then it's all routine. As proud and strong as he is, Atobe is really awfully good at being on his knees and obedient, but it's all for the sake of the team, and so he takes it all without complaint, because that is his responsibility.
After their loss to Seigaku at the Kanto Tournament, Atobe is preemptive, because even though he's won his match, he knows the prospects for certain others aren't looking so great (Gakuto, for example, and Jirou, too), and so he heads Sakaki off as soon as they get back to the school. Back in his apartment, Atobe pours his wine for him as Sakaki rubs his temples and complains, and Atobe agrees and nods sympathetically and offers to make him something to eat even though he has absolutely no idea how and has never touched a stove before in his life.
"No..." Sakaki refuses vaguely, sitting up slightly in his overly-plush chair, then turns to smile at Atobe in that condescending way so peculiar to him. "Just keep me company tonight."
"Of course," Atobe replied without batting an eyelash, making his way smoothly to Sakaki's side and sitting on the arms of his chair. "Anything for Sakaki-sensei." He's gotten good at sounding soft, glazing over the honorific even though he's lost all respect for Sakaki years ago.
Sakaki smirks, taking Atobe's chin in his hand and pulling Atobe's face in for a kiss. Atobe dutifully closes his eyes; he knows Sakaki likes it more the more helpless he is, and Atobe can't bring himself to see what he's doing, despite the fact that he knows he's doing the right thing. "You're a good boy, Keigo," he murmurs against Atobe's lips, "A good team captain."
"Thank you," Atobe replies breathily, after waiting the appropriate amount of time. He hates it when Sakaki uses his first name, but there's really not much he can do about it.
Sakaki only chuckles and kisses Atobe briefly again. Atobe can taste the alcohol on his lips, and it's an unpleasant mixture, but he stomachs it, because it's certainly not the worst he's had to endure. "You're so responsible," Sakaki continues, drawling like he's actually saying something Atobe might want to hear.
After all, Atobe knows he's responsible. He knows, and so he says nothing and kisses Sakaki again, and he lets Sakaki lead him to the bedroom Atobe's come to dread and take off his clothes and invade him like he's been doing for years now without a word of complaint.
And when Atobe wakes the next morning with that bitter aftertaste and feeling vaguely sick to his stomach, like he always does, he knows. This is responsibility.