Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ Holy Moley ❯ Holy Moley ( Chapter 1 )

A/N: Um, Yeah. I think? That I wrote this fic cause Ammeh-Chan was sad and I wanted to cheer her up, Hee! Also, I realize that its just a spot odd. Its all the sugars fault, really.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Merf. If it was, they'de be older and I wouldn't feel like a pedophile for lusting after all the lovely boys. And there'd be more pr0n. Mm. ~~~~~

Being Atobe’s mole was an interesting experience. The mole had never wanted for anything, seeing as Atobe was rather well off and lacked not in the monetary fundings. One might also take into consideration as to what, exactly, a mole’s wants and needs included.

Needs: Shelter. Food. Jirou.

Wants: Jirou. Money. Facials.

Simplistic, is the mind of a mole. Simplistic and very demanding. Atobe, for his part, in what some might call a symbiotic relationship, was happy to provide the mole with its wants and needs. In fact the majority (meaning all) of the time, he was unaware that he was providing for his mole’s needs.

But that was to change one day, when Atobe, beloved captain of Hyotei’s Tennis team, decided that one of the important wants and needs of the mole was no longer needed. Namely, Jirou.

Now, this was not to say that Atobe broke off his relationship with Jirou. No, the boy was no doubt incapable of that. Rather, he decided, on a whim (as Atobe was quite wont to do), that public displays of affection were now taboo. An observer might question Atobe’s idea of what taboo was (namely by mentioning a certain pink ruffled shirt), but that really isn’t the point.

The point was that he decided, to both Jirou’s and The Mole’s dismay, that no longer would he cuddle, molest, pet, poke, lick, hug, touch, sex up, or any other such verbs, Jirou while others might see them. So he made this disheartening announcement to Jirou, who pouted slightly, and made an odd whining noise in the back of his throat that was usually reserved for the bed room, which made Atobe freeze up for a moment before he shook off the effects.

This, decided the mole, was not to work. And thus a situation that had gone on since Atobe’s birth changed. It was as he stood before Jirou, telling the smaller boy that it was no longer OK to display his affections in public, that it happened.

‘Hey, Atobe. Nope, this ain’t gonna do, we can’t have this.’

For just a moment, Atobe froze, staring straight ahead, and clearing his throat slightly.

“Ahh… Jirou, did you just say something?” Atobe asked. Jirou blinked at him, mouth opening to emit an answer, pausing momentarily to yawn, and replied.

“Nope, ‘tobe. I didn’t say nothin’.” His tone was slow and breathy, as he watched Atobe carefully. Atobe nodded, as if to himself and cast his gaze around. No one else was in sight. For a moment he had the idea that perhaps some of his team mates had decided to play a trick, but he discarded that theory in light that he could see the others playing tennis absorbedly on the other side of the courts.

‘Ha, sorry Atobe. Ain’t none of them, It was me.’ Odd. Atobe could swear he heard that voice coming from his… Face? What?

“’Tobe, you OK?” Jirou asked, tilting his head to one side to regard the other boy closely. Atobe was acting funny, blinking and turning his head both ways, as if he were looking for something.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine Jirou. Now where was I…” Atobe stated.

‘Ha, but, this won’t do at all, not at all. You can’t give up Jirou, I--You need him too much and I--You like it when he licks me--You in public.’ Said the voice, the tone starting smug, then bordering into slightly annoyed. Atobe was confused, very confused. He turned his head about, searching still for the voice, pausing as he spoke to Jirou, before resuming.

‘Nu-uh. You won’t find me out there. I’m riiggghhhtttt heeerrreee…’ Atobe blinked again. It felt like something had just brushed his face, an eyelash brushing across his face in the area of his… mole?

‘You’re getting’ it, Atobe. Guess who!’

He felt that odd wiggle again, a wriggle, something moving across his face, right on top of his mole. Was the voice trying to say that… it was saying that… his mole? Blinking, Atobe turned wildly in a circle, arms flailing around his head for a moment. Jirou jumped, startled from his near doze and half standing as if he were going to help. His voice was alarmed as he asked if Atobe was all right again.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, Jirou! There was just a… hornet.” In actuality he had been trying to see if somehow someone had attached a string or something to his mole. No such luck. His mole was speaking to him, it seemed.

‘Ahh, you get it now, huh? Well, I must say, this won’t do at all. You are to retract all previous statements and make it up to Jirou now. Capeesh?’

Atobe wondered how his mole could be such an uncouth and demanding being. He, for one, wasn’t going to give in.

‘Not givin’ in, ehh? Well, I’m sure I can change that! Now, listen here, Atobe, ‘cause I’m only saying this once. Either take it back, or I’m outta here and you can find yourself a new beauty mark.’

His mole was threatening to leave him? As if. It wouldn’t.

‘Oh, you think I’m joking? Well, let’s just see.’

There came that odd wriggling sensation again, and suddenly a gasp came from Jirou.

“Atobe! I think… I think your mole just moved!”

Atobe blinked, slapping his hand to his face, panicked at the possibility that he might lose his mole. His mole was what made him Atobe! It couldn’t leave! All right, all right, he got the point!

Heaving a sigh under his breath, Atobe glanced at Jirou and held out the hand not clapped to his face. Jirou tilted his head to one side, and took that hand, feeling himself pulled tight against Atobe’s body.

“Actually, Jirou…” Atobe started.

“Yes?” He replied.

“Forget I said anything.” That said, Atobe surprised Jirou by dropping a light kiss against the shorter boys forehead. Glancing down, he blinked at the sudden, almost… mischievous smile that lit Jirou’s face. Standing up on his toes, Jirou gave Atobe’s mole a lick.