A/N: This fic is for bjont, who was craving Sanada/Atobe and came up with this prompt (Sanada's reaction to the events of Atobe's Gift. In case any of you haven't seen it, hopefully I give enough explanation in the story.

This was surprisingly difficult to write. I really hope I didn't butcher their characters too badly. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.


"Ow!"

Sanada finished wiping the blood from Atobe's leg, and reached for a tube of antibiotic ointment. If it had been one of his teammates, he would have told them to hold their tongue, but since it was Atobe, he merely ignored the melodrama. Atobe could be tough enough if the situation called for it, so the exaggerated protests and groans were either supposed to win his pity (and thus avoid the scolding that he knew Sanada would give him), or to indulge his propensity towards theatrics.

In a way, he blamed himself for the incident. If only he had not been so far behind in the race, perhaps he could have prevented this stupidity. Really, what had possessed Atobe to play the hero and dive on top of Tezuka to prevent the banner from crushing him? Although Sanada didn't particularly want to see Tezuka crushed, he was fairly certain that Tezuka could take care of himself. However, if he, Sanada, had been in Atobe's place, his sense of honor probably would have compelled him to take action. But trust Atobe to take action in a way that managed to be both pretentiously heroic, and touchingly genuine.

And Sanada got to clean up the mess.

After watching Atobe limp across the finish line, aided by Tezuka, he had felt his irritation mounting. Atobe brushed off his concern with a wave of his hand, obviously prepared to ignore his injury and carry on with the day's festivities. While he managed to accept the prize for his team, along with Tezuka, his face had been growing gradually paler. He made his way over to Sanada, walking as slowly as possible and still looking dignified. At that point, his leg had given out and he had basically collapsed onto Sanada's arm.

Sanada had decided that enough was enough, and had whisked him off to this room for a few minutes of peace, and a chance to examine the injury. He wished the circumstances had been more pleasant–today's festival had taken so much planning that he had not seen Atobe much the past few weeks, and even today, when they were in the same place, Atobe's schedule had been crammed full of events, interviews, and displays of his magnificence.

"Are you not going to lecture me?" Atobe asked at last, as Sanada spread the ointment over his scrape.

"I have the feeling that you know how stupid you were, and you don't need me to tell you," Sanada said, exercising all his powers of self-restraint.

"Ah," Atobe said, in a voice that in no way conceded that he had been stupid, but expressed relief that Sanada was not shaking him by the neck and demanding what the hell he had been thinking.

Sanada sighed. He would never put up with such foolishness from a member of his own team. Or rather, while his teammates were just as insane as tennis players from Hyoutei, they didn't have as strong a tendency towards idiocy—otherwise, they would not have won the Nationals two years in a row.

He began wrapping Atobe's leg with gauze. The injury was painful, and it was a good thing he had cleaned it, but it was not too serious.

Atobe leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand.

"I do believe," he murmured, "that you are jealous."

Sanada snorted, and looked away.

"What for?" he said.

"Of Tezuka. It seems to irritate you if I so much as look in his direction."

"I just don't understand what you thought you were doing."

Atobe gave a small smile, and his eyes seemed to grow distant for a moment.

"He was already injured once because of me," he said. "I have certain regrets about that game, you know. Someday, I'd like to have another match with him."

"You'll have to defeat me first," Sanada reminded him.

"Oh, I will," Atobe said.

"So confident?"

Atobe only raised an eyebrow.

"It would have looked dreadful if Tezuka had been injured during my event," he commented, a minute later. "It would have quite spoiled the day."

Sanada only shook his head. He would never understand how Atobe managed to be at once remarkably selfless and completely self-absorbed.

He tied off the bandage.

"That should be fine," he said in a businesslike tone. "You have to go back now, don't you?"

"Yes," Atobe said. "Thank you for seeing to my injury. I am most grateful. But I believe you are forgetting one thing."

"Do I want to know?"

"You should make sure to kiss it, Genichirou."

Blushing, Sanada lowered his lips to Atobe's leg. He felt a hand resting gently on his shoulder.

Perhaps they could linger here for just another moment.


A/N: I hope that was all right :) Please review!