Chapter Text
Sawamura grumpily threw his glove down on the bench, grabbing his water bottle. He winced as he sat down on the bench, the cramp he got earlier when practicing sliding flaring up again. When Haruichi gave him a weird look, he glared in the other direction, choosing to ignore him.
Since when was everyone in his business? Haruichi’s visit to his room yesterday unnerved him, asking him questions about how he felt about Miyuki? Completely out of left field! It honestly freaked him out. He did everything he could to deny anything, insisting that Miyuki had started whatever weird beef that now soured the air between them. Hopefully that was enough to deter his friend.
“Good work today boys, make sure to cool down properly,” Kataoka called from the field.
A chorus of “Yes, sir”s responded.
As Sawamura grabbed his bag, looking forward to the hot bath he was about to take to soothe his cramps, Haruichi called out to him.
“Eijun! Can you come help me bring this to the equipment shed?” His friend was standing next to the large crate they kept spare balls in.
“Sure,” he said, taking the other side of the crate. The two lugged the crate across the field, its weight not so bad when split between the two of them.
Sawamura pointedly didn’t say anything, playing it off as indignant, when in fact he was doing everything he could to avoid being called out again.
When they finally reached the shed, Sawamura kicked the door in, and they set it down with a grunt. The pitcher went to put his bag away as well, expecting his friend to do the same. He then remembered the English assignment he had due tonight…the one he hadn’t started.
“Hey, did you-” but when he turned around, the younger Kominato brother was nowhere to be seen.
“Harucchi?” He called out. Suddenly, the door to the shed slammed closed, and he heard a telltale click.
Utterly confused, Sawamura went to the door and jiggled the knob.
“Haruichi?”
No response.
“Come on, open the door!”
Still nothing.
“Seriously! This isn’t funny,” he tried, his heart speeding up. Haruichi wasn’t one to pull pranks like this.
“Reflect on yourself first,” his friend finally responded, a sly note in his voice.
“What?” He replied, confused.
“I’ll be back later,” Haruichi called, sounding further away.
“Hey! Wait! Harucchi please!” He banged on the door a few more times, before giving up with a sigh. The window in the back corner caught his eye. Maybe he could jimmy it open with something in here…
Unfortunately, upon inspecting it, he realized there was some kind of cage on the window, probably to prevent fly balls from breaking it.
While he was playing with the latch on the window, to his surprise, he heard the shed door open again. Before he could do anything, he heard a familiar voice call out.
“Mochi?”
He was greeted by the sight of their captain, and his catcher, none other than Miyuki. He gaped at the other player for a second, taken aback.
Sawamura realized what was going on a second too late, and as soon as he darted towards the door behind Miyuki, it slammed shut once again, and was locked with a click.
The pitcher’s heart sank. Oh shit, he’d been played for a fool. Betrayed by his own best friends.
“Open up! Seriously!” He called, a hardly concealed note of panic in his voice.
“Not until you two sort your shit out!” the voice of his evil roommate responded. “We’ll be back in three hours! If you’re not all peachy by then, you’ll stay in there overnight,” he threatened.
Sawamura had a strong inkling he wasn’t joking.
“Wait!” he called one last time, to no avail. Sighing, his heart rate only sped up as he realized the gravity of the situation at hand.
He was locked, in a shed, with Miyuki Kazuya. The guy he had a big fat crush on, but was also the object of his extreme annoyance currently, vice versa, and all that.
Sawamura closed his eyes, continuing to face the door. He could already feel his cheeks heating up. Fuck, this wasn’t good.
After a few painfully long moments of silence, Miyuki finally spoke up.
“So…pretty stupid of them, huh?” he chuckled, clearly avoiding every elephant in the room.
“Yeah,” Sawamura responded a little too cheerfully, his voice sounding weird even to his own ears, “I can’t believe they would sink so low!”
“Mhm…”
More silence. He heard Miyuki shuffling around, likely grinding his cleats in the dirt on the floor. He did that when he was preoccupied. Ugh, he sounded like a fangirl, this was becoming a shitshow too quickly.
Sawamura steeled himself, trying to calm his nerves, then he turned around to face the other player.
He was wearing his sports glasses on his head, exposing his forehead save for a few strands falling into his face. More distractingly, the catcher’s eyes weren’t obscured by said tinted glasses, his amber eyes roving over Sawamura’s face. Said pitcher’s stomach did a flip. Fuck, he looked gorgeous without his glasses, too.
“Um…” Sawamura blurted out intelligently.
Miyuki gave him a weak smile. “I think they’re sick of us fighting, huh?”
Leave it to this tanuki bastard to just say things bluntly in a way that was bad for Sawamura’s heart.
“Yeah, I guess…everyone’s picked up on it, huh?” Sawamura said, trying to appear confident despite the tremor in his hands.
Miyuki shifted awkwardly, his brow slightly furrowed in the way it did when he was making a difficult call during a game. “Well…maybe we should clear the air then?” He suggested slowly, watching Sawamura’s reaction.
“Right.” Sawamura swallowed. Alright, he would start basic. This all started with Miyuki being an ass anyways, so he could call him out, right? “After I took your advice with Okumura, you started acting all…frosty. Then when I tried to ask you about it, you ran away!”
Miyuki winced at his barely concealed accusatory tone, looking away for a second. “Yeah..sorry about that. Something about the kid just ticks me off, I don’t really know what.” It was a pathetic response, and they both knew it.
“That doesn’t excuse you acting like a jealous girlfriend just because I followed your advice to make up with him!”
Sawamura paused, trying to play it cool, but his throat felt dry at the words he just blurted out, all the hot anger running through him turning icy with fear. Shit, he didn’t mean to make it sound like that, would Miyuki think that was weird? It was true, though!
Miyuki seemed equally as shocked, taking a moment to recover. To Sawamura’s surprise, the catcher’s cheeks had also turned red. “It’s not like that, I mean…” He trailed off, scrambling. He was ready to deny it, but he almost felt stupid for not realizing it fully sooner. Jealousy, that was it the whole time.
Sawamura could see the gears turning furiously in the catcher’s head. He was getting more annoyed by the second, why couldn’t Miyuki just actually say what was on his mind? God, did he have to do the thinking for both of them?
He took a step closer, “Look, just-” the pitcher began to accuse, but the forgotten cramp in his leg flared up, and he let out a small gasp as his leg buckled. Miyuki’s expression shifted from a deer in headlights to a different kind of alarm, and he quickly moved to catch the younger player by the arm.
Sawamura steadied himself with the help of his captain, who gripped his elbows.
“Oi, are you-” Miyuki’s breath hitched when the pitcher looked up. His face was just inches from his. “Okay…” he trailed off, distracted. Up close, he could see that Sawamura had flecks of gold in his chocolate eyes, and that his eyelashes were long, delicate. Miyuki quickly snapped out of it, trying to focus on the situation at hand. He opened his mouth to repeat his question when Sawamura didn’t respond, but he froze.
Sawamura was staring intently at his lips.
Miyuki couldn’t help the blush that crept up on his cheeks. Sawamura redirected his gaze back to Miyuki’s own eyes, then back down to his lips. Something changed in the air, making it thicker, heavier with the emotions weighing them both down over the past few weeks.
Miyuki unintentionally tightened his grip on Sawamura’s elbows, pulling him slightly closer. His brain was short circuiting, going into autopilot. So before he could lose the courage, he leaned in, closing the distance between them.
Sawamura didn’t need to be told twice.
The kiss was hungry, demanding, placating. Sawamura put his hands on either side of Miyuki’s face, deepening the kiss. The catcher let out a small whimper at the sensation, it being unfamiliar to him.
He felt Sawamura smile against his lips at that, which sent a shiver down his spine. The pitcher moved a hand to the catcher’s waist, where his shirt had ridden up slightly, feeling his toned muscles tense reflexively under his touch. Miyuki’s skin burned, Sawamura’s fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.
When they ran out of breath, the two finally broke for air, panting.
Sawamura’s gut ached, his heart pounding faster than it did during the Inashiro game. The kiss was better than he had ever imagined. Holy shit, he had just kissed Miyuki.
He took inventory of the catcher: his glasses and shirt were slightly askew, his toned stomach peeking out, and he looked breathless as well. Face red as a beet, his lips puffy and slightly swollen.
After a second, he couldn’t help but be smug. “I knew it, Miyuki Kazuya! You were being a jealous girlfriend,” he taunted. Miyuki spluttered, but had no retort. “See! You can’t even deny it.”
Miyuki held up his hands for a second, his brain not still fully functional. “As if you weren’t doing the same!” He tried to shoot back, but his voice was a little higher than it normally was.
Sawamura smirked, which did not make Miyuki’s stomach do a flip. “I was doing that on purpose! You were a pawn in my plan, and you played your part perfectly,” he crowed.
Sawamura could see the gears turning in Miyuki’s head, realization and horror growing on his face as he put the pieces together. “You planned this? The whole time? Seriously?!” He exclaimed, jumping onto the pitcher, who yelped as he began ruffling his hair mercilessly. Sawamura eventually managed to push him off after protesting enough, but only to pull Miyuki’s face down and give him a quick peck on the lips.
He cackled as Miyuki froze, then looked away, flustered. “Aww, you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” Sawamura teased. Miyuki tried to give him a scowl, but it didn’t last. The giddiness that bubbled under his skin didn’t allow him to stay annoyed at Sawamura for long.
So he retaliated by pulling the pitcher in for another kiss, a proper one.
_____________________
Needless to say, they were occupied for quite a while. They made out as long as their lungs would allow them to, but they each couldn’t seem to get enough.
That was also the problem.
The two completely forgot about the deadline their friends had given them. That is, until a loud knock sounded on the door of the equipment shed.
The two sprung apart, startled.
“We’re unlocking the door!” Kuramochi called. There was a pause. “Door is opening now!” He called again, enunciating his words unnecessarily.
The two quickly readjusted their ruffled clothing and hair as best they could after regaining their wits, but as soon the door opened–revealing Kuramochi and Haruichi–the other two took one look at them and shot each other a victorious grin.
“What the hell was that for?” Miyuki protested, trying to maintain some amount of dignity.
“For exactly this,” Haruchi replied plainly, gesturing to their poorly readjusted clothing and flushed faces. “Everyone was fed up with you two dancing around each other and being stupid.”
“So we took care of it, you’re welcome!” Kuramochi said with a cackle.
“Wha- Everyone?” Sawamura asked in a small voice.
“Everyone.” Haruichi said exasperatedly. “Seriously, Eijun-kun, I wouldn’t be surprised if the entire back of my head is gray by tomorrow. This was the only way to get you two to talk, or, I guess, not do much talking by the looks of it.”
“Harucchi!” Sawamura scolded, admonished by his friend’s brazenness. He quickly shut up at the trademark Kominato smile that was directed his way after that.
“Alright, I bet you two are hungry, so let’s go eat! I’m starving,” Kuramochi complained, turning towards the dining hall. “Ah, we worked hard Haruichi, let’s go reward ourselves.”
“Yes, You-san,” Haruichi agreed, following his senpai.
Miyuki and Sawamura exchanged a look of disbelief before Sawamura erupted into laughter. “I should’ve figured I was also a pawn. Haruichi was the master all along.”
“Give me some credit, asshole!” Kuramochi called from up ahead. Sawamura stuck his tongue out at his roommate, who then flipped him off.
Miyuki chuckled, then before he could lose his nerve, grabbed Sawamura’s hand. The pitcher looked at their joined hands in quiet surprise, before looking up at the other player with a gentle smile.
The two started off after their friends towards the dining hall, where they could hear the rest of their teammates chatting and laughing.
“I have to pee so bad.”
“Same.”