Title: Lock & Key
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters/Pairing: Atobe/Tezuka.
Genre: Fluff, shounen-ai.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of The Prince of Tennis.

Tezuka sits down, his back against the smoothness of the bedroom door and his head tilted back slightly.

"Atobe," he calls, and there is the sound of shifting on the other side.

"Tezuka," Atobe replies, sounding frustrated. "What did the R.A. say? When is the locksmith coming?"

"Tomorrow morning," is the answer, and Tezuka winces a little at the string of angry curses and menacing crashes that filter through the door.

"Did you try the window?" he asks calmly, and all he gets is a strangled yell in reply.

Of all the things Tezuka Kunimitsu expected of life as a student in a German university, this is not one of them. Becoming a member of the tennis club, yes. Being constantly hassled, yes. Having Atobe Keigo for a classmate, no. Living with Atobe Keigo in a dorm room, absolutely not.

Of course, in the face of this, Atobe's getting locked in their mutual bedroom actually seems slightly more probable. It just kind of figures, given the fact that the facilities aren't exactly state-of-the-art anymore and have by now endured about a decade of drunk German college students who probably fiddled with the lock for fun.

Not that Tezuka would explain this to Atobe, who is still raging inside.

Kunimitsu sighs and gets up to do his homework.

Tezuka can't really stay away long, not after he realizes his bag is in the room. He leans his back against the door again and slides down.

"Atobe," he calls.

"What?" the other snaps back.

"Why did you come here?"

A snort. "I felt like studying abroad. Really, Tezuka, what a stupid question."

But Tezuka shakes his head. "No. Why are you in a dorm?"

A few beats. "I was bored," he replies finally, as though it is obvious.

And since there is no real way to follow up that statement, they just sit there, backs separated by a door, and just breathe.

"Oi, Tezuka. Are you hungry?" Atobe asks after a while.

Kunimitsu doesn't answer directly. "Are you?"

There is the rustle of a shrug. "Only if you aren't making ramen again."

"I can't cook," Tezuka says, and in reply there is a snort.

"That isn't an excuse."

"And you? Your cooking prowess wouldn't amaze a starving man."

"I hate you," Atobe mutters, and bangs the back of his head hard against the door.

"I think I'm still bleeding."

"No, you're not."

"How would you know?"

"You weren't bleeding in the first place."

"Hmh."

Kunimitsu looks at his watch. Only 9:00.

"Tezuka," Atobe murmurs, sounding drained. "Did you stash any food in here?"

"Bratwurst in the sock drawer," the other replies, deadpan.

"What, really?"

"No."

"I think I'm in love with someone," Atobe says all of a sudden, and Tezuka wonders why that kind of hurts. He wants to ask, Who? When? What is she like? Why do you love her?

But the only thing that comes out is, "That's good."

And they are silent.

"I need the washroom," Atobe moans at the same time as Tezuka asks, "Would you marry her?"

"What?"

Tezuka pauses for a few beats before repeating, his mouth dry, "Would you marry her? The girl you might be in love with."

Atobe is silent for a little bit, and it sounds like a stunned silence.

He begins to laugh, long and hard.

"I thought you were straight," Tezuka murmurs, feeling the heat in his face as he covers it with his hands.

"Mm."

A few beats.

"I didn't think I could make it any more obvious," Atobe drawls then, and Tezuka hopes he stays locked in that room forever.

"Are you?" Keigo asks idly after a while, his fingers playing over his racket lightly.

"Hn?"

"Straight," he clarifies, and his fingers stop.

"Nn."

"Confused, then," Atobe says to himself, and Tezuka doesn't correct what is true.

Kunimitsu isn't quite sure when they fall asleep, but at 7:13 in the morning he returns to consciousness with a jerk that crashes his head into the door. An answering thump assures him that Atobe is now awake as well.

"Oi, Tezuka," says Atobe. "When is the locksmith coming?"

Kunimitsu tries not to think about how Atobe's voice sounds first thing in the morning.

"Didn't say," he responds, and runs his fingers through his hair.

Instead of swearing, Atobe merely goes quiet and Tezuka is almost convinced that he has gone back to sleep until there is a, "Fuck," and another thump from the other side of the door.

"Atobe..." Tezuka sighs after a quarter of an hour.

"Ahn?"

"How—" He pauses to gather the words up. "Why do you think you're in love?"

There is no response for a few long seconds. Then Atobe says, "Because," with a smirk in his voice, and Tezuka finds himself wishing he could see his roommate's arrogant pose.

"That's not an answer," he points out.

"It is if I say it is," retorts Atobe, and Tezuka leaves it alone.

"What are you thinking about?" Keigo asks boredly after another ten minutes. Tezuka, who has been stretching, grunts a little.

"Tennis," he lies, and sighs as his back gives a wonderfully satisfying pop-pop-pop. And then, because he knows Atobe is waiting for it: "You?"

"Tennis," Keigo repeats, and begins to wonder if this is going to last forever.

"I lied," says Atobe a few minutes later. "I was thinking about you."

It is 9:03 when the locksmith comes and by this point Tezuka is a little bit afraid that Atobe died in their room – he has been silent for so long that it is the only conclusion that Tezuka can draw.

Tezuka doesn't pay any particular amount of attention to what the locksmith does, only lets the man work until the door opens, then pays him and shows him the way out.

By this point, Atobe is awake again, yawning behind one hand and combing out his hair with the other hand. Tezuka half-kneels in front of him.

"You didn't leave," Atobe states, sleep still in his eyes.

"No."

"Thank you."

Tezuka shrugs and stands, holding out his hand for Keigo, who takes it. And then something with the momentum – and it is most definitely Atobe's fault – and he reaches for the back of Tezuka's head – and then it is just lips and lips and butterflies and something odd in the center of Tezuka's existence.

And then Atobe is breaking away and watching him appraisingly before stepping to the side and walking past Tezuka and into the washroom.

"Oh," Kunimitsu says to himself not long after, as he sits on his bed and wonders why his heart won't stop stuttering. "Oh."