Chapter Text
After a minute or two, Miyuki turned to Sawamura, keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder. He decided not to pry just yet, still sensing residual anxiety rolling off his pitcher.
“Can I take a look at your shoulder?”
Sawamura nodded half heartedly, but turned his back towards Miyuki. He removed his shirt, but the catcher didn’t miss the way he flinched when raising his arms over his head.
He gently prodded the area around Sawamura’s shoulder blade, asking him where it hurt and taking note of the pitcher’s reactions to certain areas. He was slightly relieved. It didn’t seem to be anything too serious, so there was no need to freak out right now.
“My guess would be it’s strained from overuse, but I would still like you to get it checked out tomorrow, okay?” Miyuki asked, keeping his voice light.
Sawamura nodded again, still being uncharacteristically quiet.
Miyuki leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to his neck, causing Sawamura to shiver slightly. He wrapped his arms around the younger player, pulling him back into his chest. He wasn’t sure what was going through his head, but it was beginning to worry him.
Sawamura stiffened at first, unsure of what to do. Miyuki was about to pull away before the pitcher relaxed into his embrace, letting loose a little sigh.
The catcher leaned his head to the side until it softly bumped into Sawamura’s forehead. He pressed another kiss into the pitcher’s caramel locks before resting his chin on top of his head. The two sat in silence, Miyuki taking inventory of the smaller player.
After a few minutes, the catcher spoke up, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Sawamura took a moment to respond, unsure where to start. He hadn’t planned to break down in the open like this. He usually opted to keep his emotions to himself, keeping up the reliable persona his teammates had come to rely on as a constant. He looked up to Miyuki both on and off the field, so he was beyond mortified that this happened in his presence.
However, it was also nice to be held.
“I-” his voice failed. Miyuki stroked his thumb soothingly over his skin from where it rested on his waist, encouraging the pitcher to speak. So he swallowed thickly and continued: “I just feel…kind of overwhelmed,” he began,
Miyuki waited for more, and when it didn’t come, he prodded, “By?”
“Just everything. Off of the field, schoolwork’s kicking my ass. But on the field, I- I- need to become a more reliable pitcher that can lead the team.” He blurted out. Miyuki waited.
“Especially after the whole…thing with the yips,” the catcher squeezed him a little tighter at that, “I know you all have doubts about my abilities. But I promise! I’m going to live up to your expectations,” he stressed, sounding desperate.
Miyuki frowned at those words, sensing the self-deprecation in them. Sawamura always carried everything on his own shoulders, believing everything was on him. Idiot. Baseball is a team sport, for god’s sake.
He turned Sawamura around in his arms, his heart swelling at the sight of his puffy, tear-streaked face. He made eye contact with the pitcher, “Listen to me. You don’t need to carry all this by yourself. No one expects that from you; let us support you. Overworking yourself to the point of injury isn’t going to help,” he began.
He ran a hand through Sawamura’s dark hair soothingly. “I’m always here for you, so is Mochi. Come talk to one of us next time, we can work something out. For now, let’s worry about one thing at a time. Right now, let’s ice your shoulder. That sound good?”
Sawamura nodded, and Miyuki was assured by his increased responsiveness. He stood up, motioning for the pitcher to remain seated when he tried to follow. He fetched an ice pack and placed it on Sawamura’s hurt shoulder. He then grabbed and filled a glass with water, as well as a tissue box, both of which Sawamura accepted gratefully.
He then gathered the younger player into his arms, allowing Sawamura to lean his head on his chest as he laid them both down. The exhausted boy relaxed on top of Miyuki like a heated blanket, much to his amusement.
He ran his fingers through Sawamura’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp until it was time to remove the icepack. He then applied some Icyhot he snagged earlier to the pitcher's shoulder, and helped him put his shirt back on.
Sawamura gave him one of his signature pouts when he came back to the bed after returning the icepack, to which the older boy chuckled. “Someone’s clingy.”
The pitcher blushed, choosing to hide his face in Miyuki’s chest when the catcher laid down again.
They stayed like that: Miyuki watching over Sawamura, and Sawamura feeling safe in Miyuki’s arms. The tightness that squeezed his chest earlier had ceased completely, leaving him exhausted.
When Miyuki heard quiet snores coming from Sawamura, he smiled. He knew he would probably wake up with drool on his shirt tomorrow, but he didn’t really care. His pitcher was relaxed and cared for, and that’s all that mattered.