Oldness from LJ. Written a few years ago for Atobe's birthday. This is one of my first fanfictions! XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis!

Atobe, for the life of him, could not find his tie. In normal circumstances, this would not have been a problem; after all, they weren't required for the everyday Hyotei school uniform, and he could never tie those buggers straight anyway, but today it was imperative that he not go without his tie.

He looked in his locker again without any hope. He'd been searching his tennis locker and his book bag for the past ten minutes with no success whatsoever and was now the last person in the changing room. Heaving a very un-Atobe sigh, one he wouldn't have dared to utter had his team been around, he flopped down on the bench and buried his face in his hands.

A sleepy sound from behind him reached his ear and he froze. It seemed he wasn't as alone as he'd first thought. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he listened to Jiro moving around slowly and getting up, probably realizing he was about ten seconds away from being late for homeroom. It was a situation Atobe, as student body president, could smooth over, but Jiro wasn't so influential. After a few seconds, silence fell again.

Thinking he was alone once more, the feeling of warm-hot hands on Atobe's back took him completely by surprise. He may have squeaked.

"Atobe-san is always so tense," murmured Jiro, still in a sleepy haze. He yawned a little and leaned his head on Atobe's, absently rubbing his captain's shoulders. Atobe would have objected – really, he would, but his morning had already been so stressful… "What's the matter?" asked Jiro in a detachedly endearing way.

"Ore-sama… can't find his tie," replied Atobe, hating how pathetic he sounded. "I have a speech today, for the council, and it's… mmn…" He trailed off as Jiro eased a particularly bad tension knot.

"And it's important," finished the blonde. "That's too bad." He continued to stroke Atobe's spine and shoulders and neck. It wasn't long before his captain was slumped, boneless, in his lap, making little contented sounds as Jiro smoothed out the twinges in his back.

"Yes… Dammit, I've been having such a crap week. First that business with the fireworks, and that fool Kawashi with the wrong forms, and my father…" Jiro listened quietly, making small noises of agreement or outrage to complement the rant. His hands never stopped ghosting across Atobe's back, soothing where it was needed. Finally he just placed his hands flat on either side of his captain's spine and sat with him. It was another few minutes or so before Atobe's words trailed off and the silver-haired boy yawned, leaning into Jiro's touch.

"Ore-sama doesn't want you to stop," he mumbled, eyes closing. "But Ore-sama is going to fall asleep..." Jiro nodded into Atobe's hair. It smelled faintly like orange-scented styling gel, a bit like shampoo, and a bit like almonds. He rested his chin on Atobe's head and breathed happily.

Atobe settled closer to Jiro, taking the older boy's hands and wrapping them across his waist. He liked the feeling of warmth that was always present when Jiro was around. It was another moment before he felt the silk sliding around his neck, and he glanced down to see his red tie being looped around and tied by Jiro, who had pulled his hands away. He missed the heat, he realized, and then he shot up, narrowly missing hitting Jiro in the face.

"Jiro!" He pointed accusingly at the shorter boy, who had now sleepily drawn to his feet as well. "You had Ore-sama's tie from the beginning!" He tried to keep his eye from twitching as he thought of how late he was for school.

"Yeah, I guess. But don't you feel better now?"

Atobe took a deep breath – and paused. "Yes, actually…" He blinked, lowering his arm. "Thank you, Jiro."

"You're welcome, Keigo." He smiled at his captain's expression.

"Wha-?" And then there was only the feeling of Jiro's lips on his and that was all that mattered.

Tie or no tie.

Reviews appreciated! :3