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“Just hear me out man.”
“No.”
“But it’s not a bad idea if you just listen.”
“What part of no didn’t you understand?”
Miyuki rubbed at his temples, trying to get the sound of Kuramochi’s annoyingly persistent voice out of his mind. With his begrudging friend and teammate right next to him though, it was proving to be a lot more difficult than he had anticipated.
For the past week, Kuramochi had gotten it into his head that Miyuki was lonely. Ever since his girlfriend cheated on him – after using him for his fame and money, no less – Miyuki was ashamed to say that his performance as catcher for the Yomiuri Giants had dwindled.
To be fair, they had been dating for almost three years now and Miyuki was really contemplating settling down with her. He supposed that a god maybe really did exist since all this unravelled before he could make any serious commitments. Not that three years wasn’t a serious commitment.
Still, he had been given the chance to re-evaluate his life since that incident, and apparently re-evaluating his life came with a drop in performance.
He hadn’t been called in for a lecturing… yet, but as Kuramochi had not so kindly pointed out to him just last night over drinks, it was bound to happen soon. Apparently, just pouring salt into the wound wasn’t good enough for Kuramochi – no, his friend had taken it upon himself to find a solution to Miyuki’s problem – one that Miyuki really didn’t think was going to help him out of his slump.
So what, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually was – it had been a month, which was a considerably short period of time in comparison to three years. He was allowed to be upset, which he had pointed out to Kuramochi, and anyone else who not so subtly asked him when he was going to be back to his usual self.
At least they were in their off season. Miyuki couldn’t imagine losing his girlfriend and his job all at the same time.
“I don’t see why you’re so against this idea,” Kuramochi insisted, ignoring Miyuki’s dismissal. He took a large sip of his beer, finishing off the pint and making a show of slamming it down on the wooden table loudly.
Miyuki had been dragged out after practice again – something he really hadn’t wanted to do – but he supposed drinking somewhat responsibly with a friend was better than watching sad movies and eating ice cream on his couch while his cat tried to get her grey paws into the tub.
“Because I don’t want to, leave me alone,” Miyuki snapped.
“Okay, but the whole thing is super legit,” Kuramochi insisted. He really didn’t know when to give up. “I have a friend, whose brother has a friend who does this kind of stuff and he’ll take care of everything so all you need to do is just show up. Easy way to have a good time,” he promised earnestly.
Miyuki grimaced, taking a small sip of his beer. He tried to ignore Kuramochi’s awaiting eyes, but to no avail. He was grinning widely at Miyuki as if to say ‘betcha can’t argue against that.’
“How would you know I even like guys?” Miyuki challenged.
“Seriously?” Kuramochi gaped. “That’s your question? Not ‘what does he look like?’ and ‘does he know who I am?’ You’re the worst,” he sighed through a groan, flopping against the black leather of the booth they were in dramatically. He slung an arm across the back of the seat, waiting for Miyuki to amend his statement.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Miyuki reminded.
“Remember when we won the Japan Series four years ago? We had that after party in Ginza at that fancy ass hotel,” he prompted. Miyuki nodded; that was basically all that he remembered of that night other than waking up in the morning with a splitting headache. “I saw you making out with some guy from that group of university kids that were in the penthouse next to us,” he grinned.
“Seriously?” Miyuki sighed.
“Yeah, seriously, and you looked pretty into it,” Kuramochi supplied unhelpfully.
“Okay, that’s enough; you’ve made your point. My answer is still ‘no,’” he deadpanned.
“If you’re really that against a guy, I can find a girl for you,” Kuramochi bargained.
“That’s obviously not the problem here – as we’ve already established,” Miyuki rolled his eyes. He took another sip of his beer, pushing it aside to peer over at Kuramochi directly. “I don’t know – I don’t think this is a good idea. Minori and I only broke up a month ago,” he reminded.
“She cheated on you – you should be glad she’s gone,” Kuramochi grumbled unsympathetically.
Miyuki scowled at the reminder. He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth before opening it to speak again. “I know, and she was also just in it for the money, which she so kindly informed me of when I confronted her about the cheating. So how is paying for someone to date me any different than what she did?”
“Okay, first of all, you’re not paying for someone to date you,” Kuramochi corrected. “Second, they’re up front about the money. You’ve got tons of it; they’re in need of it, and willing to be a good companion. It’s nothing more than that, I swear. You don’t think I’d really offer you an illegal solution to your misery, do you?” he frowned, eyebrows scrunching up in concern.
“No, I guess not,” Miyuki conceded. He didn’t bother correcting his friend about the fact that he called him out on being miserable; he was, but a little bit of alcohol could calm him into a state of acquiescence.
Kuramochi was a lot of things: annoying being the most obvious. But he was also a decent human being and a good friend. If there was anyone Miyuki could trust with his problems and his secrets, it was Mochi, albeit he was also prone to teasing the hell out of him before he offered up any sort of comfort.
It was one of the reasons why Miyuki was so hesitant on taking his offer to find a companion. Honestly, it made him sound like a gross fifty-year old. He was only thirty-one, dammit, not some old creep. Besides, at thirty-one years old, it shouldn’t have been so difficult to find someone to date on his own.
Being a professional baseball player – a famous one at that – didn’t exactly help him with his search. He had honestly thought Minori was a good, honest person, but clearly his read on people was dwindling. That, or, Minori was just a really good actor.
“Can you promise you’ll at least think about it?” Kuramochi sighed, finally noticing that he wasn’t getting anywhere with this conversation.
“I already did,” Miyuki responded stubbornly.
“No, I mean really think about it,” Kuramochi pressed. “Like think of all the pros and cons and just what about this situation bothers you. Lots of people do it, if that’s the problem and seriously, no judgment from me,” he promised.
“Fine,” Miyuki conceded. “I’ll think about it, but you have to stop bugging me. Just trust me to do it without any prompting or else the answer you’ll get is a solid ‘no’, without room for negotiation,” he narrowed his eyes.
Kuramochi’s eyebrows rose, clearly trying to determine if Miyuki was bluffing or not. After a few silent seconds, he laughed loudly, all seriousness suddenly gone from his features as his cackle echoed throughout the loud bar.
“Done,” he agreed. “Anyway, I have to go. i have to pick up Ryou from the airport,” he grinned, standing up and sliding out of the booth.
“Hmm, is this the friend with the brother whose friend does these sorts of date things you’re trying to talk me into?” Miyuki asked knowingly.
“Maybe,” Kuramochi blushed, face cracked into a large smile. He didn’t even bother to hide the obvious happiness in his tone. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” he waved, greeting the bartender on his way out with a promise to pay his tab the next time.
Miyuki sighed, staring at the empty seat that Kuramochi had been in only a few moments ago, watching the way the soft leather that had moulded to Kuramochi’s back decompress into its original shape now that the man was gone. He eyed the remaining beer in his pint, downing it in one go and making his way to the front.
Without Kuramochi to keep him distracted, Miyuki had no reason to stay at the bar any longer. He paid for his drinks, and Kuramochi’s too, before hailing a cab back to his apartment to call it a night.
He was fully expecting to go home and pass out, considering he had a few drinks in him at that point and alcohol after a long day at practice was a sure fire way to knock him out. By the time he exited the elevators on the 41st floor, Miyuki was already feeling the tiredness seep into his bones.
He showered, changed, and climbed into bed in a matter of minutes, but instead of falling asleep, he couldn’t get his mind off of the conversation Kuramochi had left him with only an hour ago.
Lying wasn’t something he was known for, and it certainly wasn’t something Miyuki did, so when he told Kuramochi that he would think about the proposal, he had meant it. Now that he really considered it though, he supposed Kuramochi had been right when he called Miyuki out on not asking what the guy looked like.
If he was going to pay for someone to hang around with him, he figured it would be easier if the guy was at least nice to look at.
[subject: (no subject)]
To: Mochi
>> what’s his name?
[subject: (no subject)]
From: Mochi
>> ur gonna do it ??
[subject: (no subject)]
To: Mochi
>> I haven’t thought about it yet
>> tell me his name or show me a pic
>> I wanna know what he looks like first
[subject: (no subject)]
From: Mochi
>> don’t fuck with me man
>> Sawamura Eijun
He contemplated sending a ‘thanks’ but held himself back at the last minute. It was easy enough to find Sawamura considering they had mutual friends – Kominato Ryousuke being the person to link them together.
Miyuki supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when he saw Sawamura’s smiling face pop up on his phone. Kuramochi wasn’t going to be an asshole about this, so he really shouldn’t have questioned his friend’s choice of guys in terms of looks, but that didn’t stop his heart from speeding up at the sight of Sawamura, all the same.
He was fucking cute. His profile picture was of him, left arm swung around Haruichi’s shoulder, and another tall guy with black hair to the left of Haruichi at the beach. It wasn’t provocative, the beach shorts covering up everything that needed to be, but Miyuki still found his eyes lingering on the swell of Sawamura’s abs, which he obviously had to work out to keep up.
His hair was dishevelled, in the way that it could only get from the salt water not drying out fast enough or in the right way, stupidly goofy grin and bright teeth practically blinding Miyuki with their shine. He had a pair of aviators perched on his head, which gave him a casual cool vibe, and Miyuki didn’t know if the way his right hand was thrown up in a peace sign added to that image or destroyed it completely.
The best part about him though was his eyes – golden brown and so bright that Miyuki thought they could have very well been reflecting the sun. They looked happy, which made him wonder about Sawamura’s situation because Kuramochi had said something about him being in need of money, except he didn’t show it. Maybe the picture was old.
His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his daze.
[subject: Sawamura]
From: Mochi
>> did u look him up ??
>> he’s cute right ??
Miyuki turned his phone off, face flushed with guilt. Guilt about what though, he wasn’t exactly sure. All he knew was that if he didn’t stop staring at Sawamura’s photo, he was never going to be able to actually meet the man, the possibility of which was becoming more of a reality the longer he thought about it.
It took another week of Kuramochi glaring at him through practice and slinging his sweaty armpits around Miyuki’s neck before he caved. True to his word, Kuramochi did not utter a word about Sawamura since the night Miyuki texted him for a name, but the pleading looks he had been giving him were enough to get his message across.
When Miyuki sidled up to him after practice the next Friday night and asked him how he could get in touch with Sawamura, Kuramochi’s grin was unreal.
“I’ll tell Ryou to tell Haruichi to give him a heads up and pass on your number. He’ll text you,” Kuramochi instructed as they got into his car.
It was kind of convenient, if entirely not, that he and Kuramochi lived in the same building. On one hand, Miyuki got a ride to and from practice whenever he needed it but on the other hand, it also meant that Kuramochi could bother him at any time of the day. Especially because he had given his friend the spare key after a miscalculated judgement call on his behalf.
“Okay,” Miyuki agreed, placing his gym bag in the trunk and getting into the front.
“Don’t bail on me,” Kuramochi warned. “I’ve been talking you up this whole week.”
Miyuki raised his eyebrows at that. “How’d you even know I’d say ‘yes’?”
“You were a goner the moment you saw his eyes, weren’t you?” Kuramochi laughed.
“Fuck you,” Miyuki scowled.
“Hah – I knew it. You’re so easy to read, and you always like the same thing,” he grinned brightly, chuckling louder when Miyuki threw him a punch to the arm.
This time though, he didn’t bother arguing against Kuramochi. After all, he was right: it was Sawamura’s eyes that had really done it in for him.
Despite the fact that Miyuki had agreed to this whole thing, he hadn’t really expected it to move as quickly as it had. The same night that he had given Kuramochi consent to pass his number on to Sawamura, he got a message from the man himself, asking him if he’d like to meet in person so they could figure out a schedule and a price.
It felt weird to be talking about it so casually, but Miyuki figured it was only weird if he made it that way. So, he sent back a time and place, and even added a little smiley face emoji to make it seem less awkward. He regretted it the moment he hit the sent button though, hoping that Sawamura didn’t take him for the idiot he definitely was. He didn’t have anything to worry about since Sawamura’s reply came in the form of an elaborate kaomoji that Miyuki couldn’t quite decipher but it looked happy, so he went with it.
Saturday morning, Miyuki woke up feeling a mixed sense of despair and excitement. It took him a while to figure out just why he was feeling that way but the minute he realized he was meeting up with Sawamura for brunch, he shot out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom, ignoring his cat’s meows for attention.
“Sorry baby, I have to run. Can’t spend any time with you today,” he apologized, running his hand over her soft fur once he was changed and ready to go. She didn’t seem all that interested in his sorry excuse of an apology, and Miyuki couldn’t find it in himself to be all that offended.
He poured her food out in a bowl before grabbing his scarf and coat, wrapping the former around his neck tightly. It was December now, and the wind combined with the already cold temperatures meant extra layers. Still, bundling up against the harsh winter weather did nothing to ease the nervous jitters that racked his body.
By the time he pulled out of the garage in his black BMW Sedan, which he only took out very sparingly, he had managed to calm down a little. The entire drive to the café that he had picked out for them to meet, Miyuki tried to talk himself into composure, but he would have been lying if he said that he actually managed to feel that way the moment he parked and got out, heading for the front door.
The café was small, but nice. It was tucked far away in the outskirts of the city so most people didn’t go out of their way to go there, and those who did, were sure to leave him alone. Baseball had become a popular sport in Japan over the years, and playing for a team that had won the Japan Series three times in the past five years meant that his position came with a little bit of fame.
He didn’t particularly like cameras in his face or reporters prying into his life, but Miyuki loved baseball too much to even think about giving it up for the sake of privacy. He had learned a long time ago how to deviate from questions he didn’t want to answer, and his natural good looks and charm had earned him a good reputation with the media. He was nice to reporters because he had to be, but in turn, they usually left him alone and took whatever information he gave as gold because it had come from him.
Sometimes, he didn’t realize the extent of his influence; it was a little bit frightening to know how people fawned over him for being good at a game he played for himself, but hey, if that’s how the world chose to operate then how could he ever stop it? There were too many other things he was preoccupied with anyway, and right now, the most pressing matter was finding Sawamura.
It didn’t take long for Miyuki to spot his mop of brown hair, styled back, revealing the sharp cut of his jaw and long nose that turned up at the tip. He was looking down at his phone, so Miyuki wasn’t really certain that was him, but compared to everyone else who was sitting around in the café, he figured that was his best chance at Sawamura.
“Hello,” he greeted, walking up to where he hoped Sawamura was, standing next to the open seat across the booth from him.
He saw Sawamura’s head jerk up quickly, golden eyes locking in with Miyuki’s own light brown ones. He had no doubt that this was Sawamura the moment he saw his brilliant eyes. Although, the way Sawamura was looking at him quizzically, he almost doubted himself. Whatever Sawamura had been thinking was gone in an instant though, face shifting from confused to pleased.
“Miyuki Kazuya! Nice to meet you,” he slid out of his seat, bowing quickly a few times in greeting.
Miyuki cocked his head at Sawamura’s strangeness, holding back a snort because fuck, it was cute how he was so hyper and really, that should have turned him off but it made him want to reach out, grip his shoulders and maybe hold him close for a few seconds – or years. But that was an inappropriate thought, and Miyuki knew it. At least he had a brain to hand filter, which prevented him from acting impulsively.
“You can just call me Miyuki, no need for the whole name,” he chuckled, before mentally chiding himself because what kind of a lame joke was that? “You’re Sawamura, right?” he clarified, clearing his throat as he looked for a change in conversation.
“Yep, that’s me,” he grinned, sliding into his seat once more. Miyuki did the same, taking the one across from him.
The rustling of the maroon leather under him was far too loud for the silence that had encompassed them again. Maybe he should have picked a louder place, so that at least he had some background noise to distract him from how awkward he was acting. He shifted his gaze around the room, noticing only a few couples and groups spread out across the establishment. Thankfully, or maybe not, no one was sitting too close to them. He briefly wondered if Sawamura had chosen this seat on purpose, and with that thought, he found himself looking up at the man in front of him.
That had been a mistake though, because the moment their eyes locked, Miyuki felt whatever thread of confidence he had been holding on to snap. He had half a mind to apologize profusely and run out of the café, refusing to go on any dates again, if this could even be called that.
Why was he acting so weird? Sawamura hadn’t done anything strange; in fact, he was being extremely polite, which should have made Miyuki feel more at ease but it just made him want to curl up into a ball and hide his face forever. These were feelings he had never experienced before, and they both scared him and angered him.
“Are you okay?” Sawamura asked when Miyuki had been silent for too long. “I bet you’re feeling awkward, huh? Don’t worry, I am too if it makes you feel any better,” he supplied, shooting Miyuki a warm smile that made his stomach flip.
“Don’t you do this all the time though?” he blurted out before he could stop himself. So much for that filter he had been silently thanking god for giving him only moments ago.
Sawamura’s eyes widened at Miyuki’s question, and Miyuki was sure he had just blown it. He was fully prepared for the other man to leave considering how rude that had just been, but before he even had the chance to apologize, his ears were filled with the sound of Sawamura’s amused laughter.
“I guess you’re right. Why am I nervous, huh?” he asked, biting his lower lip between his teeth. “To be honest, I thought Harucchi was making you up. He’s a good guy, and my best friend so I trust him, but oniisan is scary and ruthless. I thought I had done something to piss him off so he was sending me off to my death. As if Miyuki Kazuya would want to pay me to date him, right?” he joked, picking up one of the menus that had been laid out in front of them.
Miyuki figured that ‘oniisan’ was Kominato Ryousuke; he had only met the man three times, himself, but Sawamura’s fear of him was completely valid. The man was the definition of ‘I can kill you and no one will know,’ which was both incredibly creepy and very impressive.
“Honestly, I could see Ryou-san doing that. Sorry, but I’m real,” he grinned, taking the spare menu.
“Ryou-san? Oh, are you friends with him? Yikes, please don’t tell him I said that,” he shuddered, shooting Miyuki a pleading look.
He shook his head quickly, partly because he wanted to deny Sawamura’s statement and partly because he couldn’t bear to look at those adorable eyes for much longer without doing something he’d regret.
“We’re not friends. I’ve only met him like three times, but that’s what Kuramochi calls him, so…” he shrugged. “Have you decided what you want?” he nodded his head towards the menu that Sawamura had laid back down on the table.
“Yep,” he smiled.
“Me too,” Miyuki agreed, swivelling his head in search of someone to take their order. He looked to Sawamura for his choice when the waitress came over, asking for the same thing when she asked him what he wanted.
Sawamura looked at him suspiciously for maybe half a second after the waitress departed, before he grinned again, clearly pleased that Miyuki had ordered the same thing as he had.
“Do you come here often?” he asked, filling in the silence as they waited for their food.
“I used to, with my dad,” he answered honestly. “This is where he and my mum met, and after she died, he’d bring me here whenever either of us missed her too much,” he continued, eyes widening with realization at what he had just said.
He looked towards Sawamura with horror, expecting an uncomfortable expression but the man was wearing a soft smile instead. It made Miyuki relax, which was good because he had been high strung all morning and every time he thought he said the wrong thing, his nerves felt like they were short circuiting.
“That’s sentimental,” Sawamura agreed. “Are you planning on meeting your future spouse here too?” he teased.
“What— ” he protested.
“I’m just teasing, relax,” Sawamura grinned, propping his chin between his hands on the table. “But you are meeting your new boyfriend here, so let’s talk details,” he said easily, changing the topic to what it should have started off with a long time ago.
“Yeah, okay,” Miyuki agreed, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I don’t know what anyone told you, but my friend thinks that I spend too much time on my own, and that I need someone to hang out with, romantically,” he grimaced.
Sawamura laughed, stopping him short of saying anything more embarrassing. “I don’t know about you, but there’s nothing really romantic about this,” he reminded.
“I know, and honestly, I feel really weird asking you to do this. I mean, I don’t even know if you like me – that’s stupid, of course you don’t like me, you don’t even know me,” he muttered to himself. “What I mean is, I’ll give this a shot to appease Kuramochi, but I don’t want you to think you have to give me anything,” he explained.
“Nothing?” Sawamura raised his eyebrows teasingly.
“I mean, whatever you don’t want to give,” he corrected, feeling his face flush with the admission. He didn’t want to make this any more awkward than it had to be, but he had to remind himself that Sawamura was a professional and that this wasn’t his first time. The only person making it awkward was him.
“Alright, so here’s the deal,” Sawamura said, sparing Miyuki from embarrassing himself further. “I’ll date you in the sense that we’ll have dinner together, watch movies, take walks, whatever it is that you want to do as a couple. Hand-holding is okay, kissing is fine too, but absolutely no sex while you’re paying me,” he narrowed his eyes, daring Miyuki to argue. When he didn’t protest, Sawamura continued, “You’ll pay for my rent and my groceries, which honestly, isn’t all the much because I live in a shithole. If you still want to do this, all you have to do is agree.”
Miyuki wracked his brain for a reason for him to say ‘no,’ but when he didn’t find one, he nodded slowly.
“Okay, now that that’s settled, let’s eat, I’m starving,” he grinned, just as the food arrived, nudging Miyuki to pick up his knife and fork when he didn’t immediately reach for his utensils.
He did as he was prompted, stalling with the utensils in his hand as he looked at Sawamura hum happily over the food. He was definitely cute, and Miyuki wasn’t sure if he was happy that he could call Sawamura his boyfriend, or whatever term it was that they were now, or if he was upset that they hadn’t met under better circumstances.
The day after they met up, Sawamura emailed him a contract to sign, and Miyuki did the same. After all, they both had assets to protect, and they didn’t need this to turn into a scandal. Miyuki had carefully managed to avoid those since he started playing baseball professionally, and he wasn’t about to risk that now. The only piece of gossip the media was getting out of him, was that he was single again.
Even after they exchanged all their formalities, it took a few days for Miyuki to adjust to the idea of being able to hang out with Sawamura whenever he wanted. He tried to think about what he would do if he were dating someone for real, but that was exactly the problem: it wasn’t real.
After three days of not contacting Sawamura though, the other man seemingly had enough of waiting around for Miyuki to initiate something, and messaged him first, asking him if he was free that Friday night. He had purposely left the activity open for Miyuki to choose, lest he was scared off by the prospect of doing something he didn’t like, which Miyuki could appreciate Sawamura for.
He was paying the other man for this, so Miyuki figured he should cash in on his spending. He agreed to meeting up with Sawamura Friday night, inviting him to his penthouse for dinner because it was better than trying to find a place where people wouldn’t recognize him. He hadn’t thought out the logistics behind this arrangement, but ah well, too late now.
Most of the day, Miyuki spent training at practice, and Friday was no different. By the time he got home that evening, he only had an hour and half before Sawamura was set to arrive. He quickly showered, threw his practice clothes in the laundry room to take care of later, and cleaned up the living room as best as he could since he only had someone come to clean it once a week, and unfortunately, cleaning day was tomorrow.
“Yo,” Kuramochi greeted, popping into Miyuki’s apartment unannounced.
He had moved to the kitchen by now, and was sorting through the fridge for groceries. Initially, he had planned on just ordering take-out, but he had invited Sawamura to his house for dinner, which implied that he’d cook, right? He was probably overthinking the situation, but cooking had always calmed Miyuki down and in his current panicked state, he needed all the calming he could get.
“What are you doing here?” Miyuki scowled. “I told you I was busy tonight.”
“I know,” Kuramochi laughed. “I just came to make sure you weren’t crying from nerves,” he said knowingly, calling Miyuki out on his jittery behaviour.
“Oh, fuck you,” he glared, setting out garlic, parsley and lemons on the counter. He reached for the freezer where he kept his meat products, taking out a pack of frozen cod that he set out on the counter as well, to hopefully defrost.
“Are you making dinner for you and your boy?” Kuramochi smirked.
“There is so much wrong with that sentence, just going off your tone,” he shuddered. “Did you actually need something, or are you here to just piss me off?” he crossed his arms over his chest, facing Kuramochi directly.
“Well, partly to piss you off,” he said cheekily. “But mostly to tell you that whatever you do, don’t ask Sawamura about his grandpa,” he said seriously.
“Why? What do you know that I don’t?” Miyuki narrowed his eyes.
“Nothing, I swear,” Kuramochi insisted, lifting his hands up in defense. “I was just told to pass on the message. But then again, maybe you should ask him because being an asshole is where your charm’s at, right?” he added, earning him a rough shove out of the kitchen and towards the front door.
“Get out,” Miyuki said pointedly. “And don’t come back tonight!” he added behind Kuramochi’s retreating figure.
He didn’t get the chance to dwell on Kuramochi’s cryptic advice because the moment the front door closed behind his friend, the buzzer in the apartment went off, signalling that Sawamura was downstairs, waiting to be let up. Miyuki pressed the entry key, hurrying to the bathroom to make sure he looked clean in the few minutes it took for Sawamura to make his way up.
“Wow, your apartment is nice,” Sawamura whistled, as Miyuki led him inside.
“It makes me feel like a bit of a pompous prick living in a place so big when it’s just me and my cat,” Miyuki admitted. “But, the security is great and the stadium is close by, plus a lot of my teammates live in this building or near here,” he continued.
“You don’t have to explain anything to me, hey, if you’ve got the money, might as well make the most of it, right?” Sawamura smiled, kicking his shoes off and following Miyuki further into the apartment. “I brought dessert by the way,” he grinned, holding up a box of sandwich cookies.
“You didn’t have to,” Miyuki frowned. He had already picked up a cheesecake last night in preparation for today, but he couldn’t deny that the gesture was appreciated all the same.
“I wanted to, it’s no big deal,” Sawamura waved off. “Do I get a tour of the place?” he asked brightly, looking at Miyuki with those big, bright eyes that he couldn’t say ‘no’ to even if he had wanted to.
“Yeah, sure, but I’m making dinner so I hope you don’t mind giving yourself a tour.”
“You’re going to let me look around your apartment unsupervised?” Sawamura asked.
“Yeah, why not,” Miyuki shrugged.
“Okay, don’t get mad if I make a mess,” he grinned, padding off into the hallway that connected all the bedrooms and bathrooms. Miyuki smiled softly, watching the spot that Sawamura had been standing long after he was gone. He snapped out of his daze eventually, moving back to the kitchen to finish making dinner.
By the time Sawamura returned from exploring his apartment, dinner was done and Miyuki had set up the plates on the coffee table. He had a perfectly good dining table that they could have used, but he didn’t want to make things more formal than they had to be, and eating on the couch with something playing on the TV was a good distraction if either of them ran out of things to say.
“Wow this looks really good,” Sawamura praised, flopping down on the couch.
“Here,” Miyuki offered him a beer, slipping into the seat next to him.
He made sure to keep a good distance between them so that it didn’t feel like he was crowding Sawamura, but the way the other man had already picked up the remote to flip through the channels and find something to watch indicated that he really couldn’t care how close Miyuki was sitting to him.
“We don’t have to watch baseball just because I like it,” he frowned, when Sawamura settled on a broadcasted university game.
“Who said I put this on for you?” Sawamura challenged.
Miyuki’s mouth fell open. “You like baseball?”
“Like it? Of course I do! I played it all through high school and my first two years of university. I had to quit last year though because well, dropped out of school and all,” he grinned through his words; this time, his amusement did not reach his eyes.
Dropped out of school? Miyuki supposed he should have asked Sawamura more about his life before he committed to this agreement, but he trusted Kuramochi to not set him up with someone bad.
“What position?” he asked, even though the question he really wanted to ask was why he dropped out of school.
“Pitcher,” he smiled, sunny disposition back in place in a matter of seconds. It was clear that Sawamura liked baseball, which should have come as a relief because Miyuki had found common ground between them, but it only tugged at his heartstrings in melancholy because for someone who loved the game so much to have to give it up was truly heartbreaking in his opinion.
“We should play together sometime. I play catcher,” he added stupidly, as if Sawamura didn’t know.
It made him laugh though, and Miyuki couldn’t help but snort in amusement at Sawamura’s delight.
“Alright. This is you promising so don’t go back on me now, okay?”
Miyuki didn’t bother to correct him – to tell him that it was a suggestion not a promise – because he really did want to see what he was like on the baseball diamond. He nodded his head, holding his pinky out in a binding promise, which Sawamura was all too willing to take with an amused laugh.
The rest of the night passed by quickly, their conversations alternating between baseball and what they liked to do for fun. Not once did Minori or Sawamura’s grandpa come up in conversation, which was good, because the happy atmosphere that they had surrounded themselves in was one that Miyuki wished he could stay in forever.
True to his word, Miyuki asked Sawamura to play catch with him a week later. The stadium was shut down for the holidays, but that didn’t mean that the training grounds were also off limits. Training, while not mandatory, was still encouraged but that weekend was New Year’s, so most of his teammates were out spending it with their families.
It was the perfect opportunity for Miyuki to get Sawamura down there and see just what the pitcher was made of. Just because he had played all through high school and what he could in university didn’t make him good, but Miyuki found himself thinking that he didn’t care if Sawamura was good or not; maybe he’d just get the chance to play again, and that was enough.
He didn’t realize how much he missed doing things for fun. With Minori, it was always art museums, cruises, high-end restaurants. Anything that was extravagant, she wanted to do and Miyuki didn’t mind it because he had loved her. Being given the chance to eat dinner at home, go see a movie in the park where they sat at the back and tossed chocolate into each other’s mouths for most of the event and playing baseball in a cold stadium in the middle of winter were all things he knew Minori would never do – had never done with him.
“Whoa, is it really okay for me to be here?” Sawamura asked, making his way into the indoor practice room.
There were batting cages set up at the back, but Miyuki was far more focused on the stretch of turf that lined the catcher and pitcher’s practice unit. He was familiar with the area, spending most of his time there, since that was his official position, but the moment Sawamura stepped onto it, he just looked like he belonged.
“Yeah, it’s fine, come here,” Miyuki motioned for Sawamura to come closer.
“You didn’t tell your coach about this, did you?” Sawamura narrowed his eyes.
Miyuki rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well– ”
“That’s fine,” Sawamura waved off excitedly. “I can’t believe I get to see where the Yomiuri Giants practice,” he said, voice filled with awe as he looked around the area, fully taking in its grandeur.
“You don’t get to just see. You get to practice in it too, come on,” Miyuki corrected, waving his hand again so Sawamura would go to where he was.
Miyuki set him up with a glove and protective gear, asking him to pick out a ball from the cart. It took him way too long to pick his first one, even though they all were the same but seeing how excited Sawamura got had Miyuki standing back and observing his quirky behaviour.
“Can you pitch to the inside?” Miyuki asked, kneeling down behind the makeshift plate.
“Of course I can pitch to the inside,” Sawamura scoffed. “Try me,” he challenged when Miyuki raised an eyebrow at his confidence.
“Alright, give me a fastball to the inside,” he agreed, knocking his fist to the inside of his catcher’s glove, preparing for Sawamura’s pitch.
When he saw the other man bring his left arm back, he was a little surprised because he didn’t know Sawamura was a southpaw, but the surprise vanished because he had dealt with left-handed pitchers before. But then, Sawamura’s arm kept rewinding to the point where Miyuki couldn’t even see it any longer and what the fuck how flexible was he?
He thought he had seen all the pitches he possibly could, which was a pretty big assumption to make, and the moment he saw Sawamura’s pitch come at him, he knew that he definitely hadn’t seen them all. He had to lean forward to make the catch, the ball bouncing against the ground once, but he caught it and that was something for the insane pitch he had just seen.
“What the fuck was that?” he asked, torn between annoyance and pride.
He pushed off from the ground, walking towards Sawamura, ball still in his glove.
“You’re surprised, right?” he asked, grinning proudly. “Did I tell you I was the ace for my team?” he added smugly.
“Being the ace doesn’t mean anything if your catcher can’t you know, catchyour pitches. I said fastball to the inside, Sawamura, and you gave me a curveball,” he deadpanned, tossing the ball to Sawamura who caught it easily.
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” he added, scratching his cheek sheepishly, “Sometimes, my pitches go a little crazy, but don’t worry, I just need to warm up a little and then I’ll get my control back,” he promised, nodding solemnly.
Miyuki wasn’t sure if he should have been amused or not, but he found his lips twitching up in a smile all the same.
“Come on, let’s get through these warm-ups so you can show me what you’ve really got,” he smacked the back of Sawamura’s head affectionately. The blinding smile he got in response was worth all the pitches to the face.
By the time they were both sweaty, tired messes who could barely move from the ground, Miyuki was so full of happiness that he thought his chest was really going to explode. If this counted as a date, it was definitely the best date he had ever gone on. His muscles ached, he was breathing so loudly that he could see the way his chest rose and fell from where he was lying sprawled out across the ground, but he was smiling so much he thought his cheeks were going to split open at any moment.
“Hey,” Miyuki sighed, rolling over to his side so he could look at Sawamura, who was sprawled out right next to him. He nudged the other man until he groaned, shifting on his shoulder so he could look at Miyuki.
In that moment, Miyuki didn’t think there was anyone more beautiful than Sawamura Eijun, with his big, luminescent eyes that were so happy despite all the shit that he knew they were hiding. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked drunk rather than worn out. He licked his lips, waiting for Miyuki to say what he wanted and Miyuki was immediately drawn to his tongue tracing across the flesh. His hand twitched, but at the last moment, he controlled the urge to reach out and take Sawamura’s chin in his hand, thumb tracing where his tongue had been only moments before.
“You’re amazing.” The way Sawamura’s face melted at the sincere compliment was enough to make Miyuki’s heart skip a beat. “Who taught you how to play?”
And in a second, the warm smile was gone. From the limited information Miyuki had about Sawamura’s life, he knew there was only one thing, one person, who could make him react that way.
“Never mind, you don’t have to answer,” he said quickly.
“My grandpa,” Sawamura said quietly.
If Miyuki hadn’t been right next to him, he would have missed the answer completely. He swallowed, unsure how he was supposed to proceed with that piece of information. Kuramochi had told him not to ask Sawamura about his grandfather, but Miyuki couldn’t just pretend like he hadn’t heard what Sawamura just said. Thankfully, he didn’t have to make the awkward decision between pressing him further and ignoring him.
“What do you know about him?” Sawamura asked bluntly, observant eyes boring into Miyuki’s own.
“Only that I’m not supposed to ask,” he answered honestly. Under the intensity of Sawamura’s gaze, he was a goner anyway.
He hummed thoughtfully. “No one told you about him?” he asked, rephrasing his first question. But he was basically asking Miyuki the same thing.
“It’s no one else’s story but yours,” he answered knowingly.
“I guess, but I thought you’d have asked me why I’m doing this by now,” Sawamura laughed, waving his hands about to signify ‘this.’
Miyuki knew he meant the whole being paid to be someone’s companion gig. It wasn’t something people decided they wanted to just do one day, and although he was curious, it wasn’t his story to ask. Sawamura was in need of money, and that was a good enough reason for him. Why, wasn’t really important.
With the way Sawamura was slowly prompting him though, Miyuki assumed – hoped – that Sawamura wanted to talk to him about it.
“What happened?” he asked gently.
For a moment, he thought Sawamura wasn’t going to answer. He looked away from Miyuki, staring up at the fluorescent lighting above, eyes blinking quickly. Miyuki followed the trail down his cheeks to his neck, where he watched his Adam’s apple bob in the way it only could if he was trying to settle his voice before he began to speak.
“My parents died when I was really young,” he said quietly, eyes still averted. “I don’t even remember them very well, but my grandpa took care of me after that. We already lived together, so it wasn’t that drastic of a change. Not having known them for very long made it easy to adapt to the new situation. I remember doing everything with him though; he made sure to fill both the mother and father role and I think it’s so I wouldn’t be given a chance to miss them. I didn’t, so I guess he did a pretty good job, huh?” he asked, finally turning to face Miyuki.
“Sawamura,” Miyuki said quietly, face softening when he noticed the way Sawamura’s eyes had began to water. He didn’t know what he was going to say, and when he didn’t follow up, Sawamura turned away, shaking his eyes close.
“He fell ill in my second year of university, half-way through the baseball season,” he continued. “He was the only family I ever had, so the decision was easy. I quit school, moved back in with him, because no matter how many times he told me that I was being an idiot and wasting my life on him, I knew that nothing was more precious than making those lasting memories,” he smiled sadly. “But a university dropout with less than stellar high school grades isn’t exactly the most employable person out there.”
Miyuki had never felt guiltier in his life, and what had happened to Sawamura wasn’t even his fault. But when he looked at where he was in life and where Sawamura was, he couldn’t believe that they had both started off in the same place. Sawamura was a good pitcher, and maybe if his circumstances had been different, he could have ended up playing for a professional team one day too.
“You’re not going to get all sentimental on me now, are you?” Sawamura accused, breaking the tension between them.
“What?” Miyuki asked stupidly.
“I mean, you being nice to me is great and all but I’d think you were replaced by an alien if you didn’t tell me off for being loud at least once, you know,” he smiled.
“You wish, Bakamura,” he laughed, pushing himself off the ground. He extended an arm for Sawamura to grab on to, which the other man took without missing a beat.
“Wanna tour the stadium?” he grinned.
“Are we allowed to be in there?” Sawamura asked, eyebrows furrowed cutely.
“Who’s gonna stop us?” Miyuki shot back. “Come on, I’ll take a picture of you on the mound so you can brag to your friends,” he laughed, switching hands and grasping Sawamura’s palm in his own, leading him to the diamond.
He didn’t let go even when they were out in the open space, but it didn’t seem like Sawamura minded; not with the way he tugged Miyuki from one end of the stadium to the next, insisting he take a picture of Sawamura everywhere.
It should have been tedious, and Miyuki would have been annoyed if it were anyone else, but Sawamura’s genuine glee at being shown around the stadium cracked the stone cage he had carefully trapped his heart behind, enough to make him agree to his whims, with only a little bit of required protest.
After Sawamura’s confession about why he was doing what he did, and how he had gotten there, something had shifted between them. Sawamura was at his house practically every night. He worked at a café as a barista in the mornings, and had been working there long enough to earn priority in choosing the shifts every month. Conveniently, he chose the morning shifts, which worked out just fine for Miyuki because most mornings he had practice.
They didn’t do much besides watch movies and just hang out. It was more like having a permanent best friend, which was strange because Sawamura was nothis best friend. He was happy enough around Miyuki, but he couldn’t help but wonder whether the younger man was just acting that way around him, or if he really did enjoy Miyuki’s company as much as Miyuki hoped he did.
Because slowly but surely, Miyuki couldn’t help that his heart sped up whenever their hands brushed, or the way his cheeks flushed when he read a particularly dorky text from Sawamura. He had been teased by his teammates on more than one occasion because he had been in a better mood, according to them, ever since the time where Kuramochi had introduced him to Sawamura. He refused to believe it, even though the proof was in his performance.
Still, he knew this wasn’t going to work out the way he wanted it to because Sawamura couldn’t just be tied down to him like Miyuki wanted him to be. He was young, funny, passionate, and had better people to be around than someone as old as him. If anyone asked, he’d claim thirty-one was still young, but compared to Sawamura’s peppy twenty-one, it was too big of an age gap for him to try to pursue a relationship for real.
“Don’t you have other people you need to dish out your time to?” Miyuki asked one night in mid-January.
He had come back from practice to see Sawamura in his kitchen, pots overflowing and countertop flooded with water and unevenly chopped vegetables.
“And how’d you even get in here?” he added as an afterthought because he sure as hell hadn’t given Sawamura a key to his place.
He was met by an indignant huff, Sawamura’s nose scrunched up cutely, cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment. If it weren’t for the fact that the other man had never openly initiated a kiss between them, Miyuki would have done just that at how endearing he looked. But, he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries; even if he was paying for Sawamura to keep him company – it sounded weird to say, even in his head – that didn’t mean he was paying for anything else and he didn’t want to make Sawamura uncomfortable around him.
“You’ve been my only client since I started seeing you,” Sawamura huffed quietly. “And Kuramochi gave me his key – said I’d probably make better use of it but I can give it back…” he trailed off, in a tone that clearly meant that he didn’t want to give it back.
“Keep it,” Miyuki waved off, heading out of the kitchen. “I’m going to take a shower, so don’t burn or flood or wreck this place in any way,” he shouted over his shoulder.
He heard a distinct, “I can’t make any promises!” carried out from the kitchen, which he shook his head at amusedly, but didn’t grace Sawamura with a reply.
By the time he had scrubbed the smell of dirt and sweat off his body and changed into a pair of grey sweats and a long-sleeved maroon shirt, Sawamura had finished cooking. Miyuki eyed the plate of what appeared to be ramen warily.
“What’s this?” he asked when Sawamura handed a bowl to him along with a pair of chopsticks.
“Ramen, duh,” Sawamura answered happily. “I made it my special way, with extra hot chilli sauce and whatever vegetables you had in your fridge. Oh I may or may not have used some of the beef you had lying around too,” he grinned sheepishly.
Miyuki paused, staring at Sawamura over his glasses. “You used the Kobe beef I had been saving up for a special occasion on this?” he asked.
“Oh shit, that’s expensive,” Sawamura’s eyes widened. “I’m… sorry?” he added hopefully.
“Ridiculous,” Miyuki tutted, bringing his bowl up to his mouth, scooping some ramen into it.
He was hoping the dinner tasted better than it looked, but considering Sawamura’s track record of cooking disasters, he didn’t know why he was so hopeful. Maybe because he wanted to believe his expensive meat hadn’t gone to a complete waste, or maybe because he was afraid of the dejected look Sawamura would give him when he realized how bad the dinner tasted, but Miyuki swallowed the meal dutifully, praying that his taste buds would recover eventually. Sawamura didn’t say anything until the meal was done, at which point he scrunched up his eyebrows in thought, observing Miyuki through accusing eyes carefully.
“The dinner sucked,” he said finally.
“It didn’t– ”
“You don’t have to pretend like it tasted good,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, I should have asked permission before I went through your fridge, and broke into your apartment,” he added gloomily.
“Did I say I was mad about any of those things?” Miyuki snapped.
“You are mad,” he accused.
“I am not,” Miyuki retorted. “You’re going to make me mad if you don’t stop blaming yourself. I said it was fine. We can order dessert or something so you’re not responsible for poisoning me,” he joked.
The way Sawamura’s face fell had Miyuki internally slapping himself for the untimely joke. He watched the other man silently pick up the empty bowls. He padded over to the kitchen, dropping them into the sink with a quiet thud. The sound broke Miyuki out of his confused daze. He quickly pushed himself off the couch and made his way to the kitchen where Sawamura was soaping up the dishes.
“What are you doing?” he asked gently, nudging Sawamura away from the soapy water.
“Washing the dishes,” he answered dully.
“Why?” Miyuki asked, voice strained.
Sawamura flushed, mumbling something quietly. When Miyuki didn’t respond, he repeated his answer a little louder. “I thought I’d make it up to you.”
“Why?” Miyuki repeated, baffled by Sawamura’s odd behaviour. “Why are you so convinced that I’m angry about this? It’s fine, whatever, come on, let’s go watch a movie or something. I’ll wash the dishes tomorrow. Are you sure you’re okay?” he added, watching the way Sawamura’s eyes welled up.
Sure, his tone may have been a little aggressive earlier, but that didn’t mean that he was pissed off at Sawamura. The dinner wasn’t all that great and Sawamura had made some of the world’s most expensive beef taste terrible, but hey, accidents happened and Miyuki wasn’t exempt from them either. He was a little irked at the time, but he definitely wouldn’t have eaten Sawamura’s terrible excuse for ramen if he had wanted to be a dick. So then why Sawamura was tearing up, like Miyuki had done or said something terrible was beyond him.
He was torn between pulling his hair out and wrapping Sawamura in a hug. In a moment of weakness, Miyuki extended his arm, placing it firmly on Sawamura’s shoulder, but instead of pulling Sawamura towards him, he stepped forward, angling his head down slowly so that their lips touched for the briefest of seconds.
He realized what he had done the moment he felt Sawamura’s soft lips against his own, and he pulled back, heat creeping down his neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I don’t know why I did that, it was a mistake,” he apologized.
Miyuki watched in horror as Sawamura’s face fell further with every word that came out of his mouth until he snapped out of it, lips pulled into a thin, unamused line. He reached behind Miyuki for the hand towel, wiping his wet hands against it aggressively before throwing it against Miyuki’s face.
Miyuki stood stunned for half a second before he sprinted out of the kitchen. Today was not his day, and he didn’t even know what he had done wrong. It felt like every thing he said and did just managed to make Sawamura hate him even more. He had fucked up with the kiss though. He really shouldn’t have done that, but his resolve had been breaking for the past five weeks.
Today, it had completely cracked.
“Sawamura, wait!” he called, watching with horror as Sawamura headed for the front door. He side-stepped him, extending his arms so that his palms lay flat against each wall lining the hallway, effectively blocking Sawamura’s path.
“Move,” Sawamura grumbled.
“I know you’re mad at me because I kissed you, and I’m sorry but to be fair, you did tell me I could do that when we were setting up our boundaries when we first started this.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sawamura gaped. He shoved at Miyuki’s chest, and Miyuki was forced to take a step back from the brunt of it.
“No, wait, that’s not what I mean. That was me being an entitled dick,” he rectified. “I really am sorry, because consent is important even if you did tell me that kissing you was okay,” he trailed off awkwardly.
Wow, he really sucked at apologizing. No wonder Kuramochi had insisted that they just forget about it whenever they got into an argument. Miyuki had apologized once to him and the man had insisted that was enough to last him a lifetime.
“You’re really stupid, you know that,” Sawamura glared, arms crossed over his chest protectively. “Do you really think I’m upset because you kissed me?” he asked.
“Yes?” Miyuki answered. Was this supposed to be a trick question?
“Well, I’m not.”
Miyuki’s confusion only grew. “You’re not? Then– ” Sawamura cut him off, not giving him a chance to finish asking his question.
“I’m upset because you said it was a mistake. At first I thought you found it weird, you know, the whole paying me to date you thing. It makes a lot of people feel uncomfortable, so I was patient and figured you’d come around. I even dropped everyone else I was seeing to make it more real because when else was I going to get the chance to meet – date – Miyuki Kazuya? I thought you really did like me when you started hanging out with me just about every day; you’re funny and witty and sometimes mean, but I like it,” he smiled sadly. “I like you,” he clarified.
“You weren’t judgmental when I told you about my grandpa. You always give me these looks, like you want to hug me, or kiss me, but you never do, and I had just convinced myself that you didn’t like me that way but then you kissed me and called it a mistake. How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?” he asked seriously.
Miyuki didn’t think his eyes could have gone any wider than they currently were.
“You like me?” he asked stupidly.
“Were you not listening to anything I just said?” Sawamura asked, annoyance evidence in the clipped tone of his voice.
“You really like me?” Miyuki questioned, because he had to be sure before he did something to piss Sawamura off again.
“Do you have some kind of an ego problem? Is this a kink? Do you just want me to give you praise or are you messing with my head?” Sawamura cocked his head curiously.
Miyuki didn’t hesitate after that. He dropped his hands, stepped forward and pressed his lips against Sawamura’s; this time, with purpose. Sawamura didn’t kiss him back for a dew seconds, and Miyuki was hit with the sinking feeling that he had done something wrong again.
But the moment he felt Sawamura reciprocate his kiss, moulding his lips against Miyuki’s, hand coming up the clench the front of Miyuki’s shirt tightly, he lost all doubt.
He cupped Sawamura’s face, angling his head better, kissing him the way he had wanted to ever since he first laid eyes on him, bright golden eyes capturing his attention from the very start. It wasn’t the ideal location, stuck in the hallway separating the genkan from the rest of the apartment, but Miyuki didn’t care where they were; not when he had Sawamura in his arms, and the younger man kissing him back like he wanted to be there too.
After what felt like forever, but had probably been closer to ten minutes, they pulled apart. Miyuki stared at Sawamura quietly, gauging him for a reaction. When he didn’t give Miyuki one, Miyuki opened his mouth and in a moment of weakness he whispered quietly, “Move in with me.”
“What?” Sawamura flushed, eyes bright and wide.
“You heard me,” Miyuki repeated, albeit with a lot more confidence.
“You don’t even know me, you don’t mean that,” Sawamura hesitated.
“I know everything I need to know,” Miyuki nodded firmly. “You’re kind and passionate. You’re honest to a fault and I want to be with you. You can have your own room if it makes you feel better, I have plenty to spare, but I really like you and I want to do this properly.”
Sawamura cocked his head further. “You know, doing this properly for most people has a longer waiting period between first meeting and moving in together,” he said, lips teetering on the edge of a smile. “Did you mean it?” he asked more seriously.
“Yes,” Miyuki responded without hesitation.
Sawamura nodded. “Okay, then. Just so you know, I’m a huge Yomiuri Giants fan, huge Miyuki Kazuya fan, so all my memorabilia is moving in too. You’ll look like the most egotistical jerk on the planet,” he laughed, eyes crinkling up in happiness.
Miyuki felt his heart soar at the sound of Sawamura’s laugh. “I’ll just tell everyone it’s because my boyfriend likes me so much,” he chuckled.
“Boyfriend?” Sawamura quipped. “Is that what we are?”
“Yeah,” Miyuki agreed. “Move in with me; be my boyfriend, please?” he asked hopefully - his boyfriend for real. The way Sawamura was grinning at him through a sunny smile and wet eyes made his heart speed up in anticipation.
“Of course,” he agreed, leaning in to kiss Miyuki again. This time, it was without any fear of doubt that his feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated, that Miyuki met him half way.
He held Sawamura close, thinking of how their relationship had evolved so quickly to this point. He never would have thought back when Kuramochi first brought up the idea of paying someone to date him that he’d actually like it – like the person. But those weren’t thoughts he had to preoccupy himself with anymore.
There were still lots of things they needed to figure out, but for now, he was content in holding Sawamura close. They’d talk about the mechanics of their relationship later. For now, Miyuki was just hopeful and grateful to have found a partner in Sawamura Eijun.