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It’s early, much too early for any sane person to be awake, when Sawamura sneaks into Miyuki’s dorm room. The dim light peeking through the thin curtains is just barely bright enough for Sawamura to see the floor. He treads carefully so as not to wake up Okumura and Kimura where they sleep a few feet away.
Sawamura crouches beside Miyuki’s bed, taking a moment to appreciate how serene his catcher looks while he sleeps. The small, genuine smile on Miyuki’s face is one Sawamura has grown accustomed to seeing when it’s just the two of them. One that makes Sawamura’s heart speed up and his chest tighten. One that is reserved for him and him alone. It’s the smile that made Sawamura think: I might actually love him.
He’s wearing the eye mask Sawamura clumsily made him for Valentine’s Day, the one he awkwardly handed to him by his locker after class. Miyuki had stared at it for an uncomfortably long amount of time without saying anything (no doubt taking in the loose stitches and wobbly lines of the tiny baseball patches) before Sawamura’s favourite smile pulled at his mouth.
“What the hell is this?” he had said, laughing. Sawamura’s face flushed red.
“If you don’t want it I’ll take it back!” and he reached for it, but Miyuki pulled it out of his reach before tucking it into his blazer.
“No.” and then he was reaching into his own pocket to hand Sawamura an unwrapped baseball phone charm. “Sorry it’s not wrapped.”
If they weren’t at school, Sawamura would have hugged him.
Sawamura chuckles quietly to himself, remembering just how awkward at navigating a relationship they were. And still are.
Miyuki stirs a little, but he doesn’t wake up. His shirt rises up over his toned stomach. For some reason or other, it makes Sawamura blush. This isn’t even close the first time he’s seen Miyuki’s stomach – they bathe together – but this is so much more intimate than usual…
And Sawamura is just now realizing how creepy it is that he’s watching Miyuki sleep in the dark. Usually he shows up in Miyuki’s room like a whirlwind, waking everyone up with a loud good morning and jump starting their day before the day has even begun. Okumura has chewed him out on occasion for this but Sawamura has nevertheless remained persistent.
This time, Sawamura quietly crawls onto Miyuki’s bed, and is careful not to jostle him too much. Even with both of them on their sides there is still barely enough room to be comfortable. Not that Sawamura can really complain.
“Miyuki-senpai,” Sawamura whispers, brushing his fingers along the curve of Miyuki’s jaw. The slight patch of stubble prickles Sawamura’s fingers. “Wake up.”
The corners of Miyuki’s mouth twitch upwards, different from the soft smile he was sporting moments earlier. He shifts closer to Sawamura and snakes his arm around Sawamura’s waist to pull him closer. Miyuki tucks Sawamura’s head under his chin, almost as if to nuzzle the crown of his head and makes a quiet sound of contentedness.
Sawamura returns Miyuki’s embrace just as affectionately by hooking his leg between Miyuki’s and hugging him back. A small laugh is caught in Miyuki’s throat; Sawamura feels Miyuki’s lips press a kiss into his hair.
“Good morning, Miyuki-senpai,” Sawamura says quietly, burrowing himself closer to Miyuki, basking in the warmth and firmness of his body. Miyuki is all hard muscles beneath Sawamura’s fingers, a reminder of the years spent perfecting his catcher craft. With summer hot on their trails, blazing fires beneath their feet, Miyuki smells a little bit like sweat, laundry detergent and heady shampoo. Sawamura can’t get enough of it.
“Good morning, Sawamura,” Miyuki says with a somewhat scratchy voice. He always sounds like that in the morning. It’s like his voice can’t quite catch up to his brain. Sawamura is one of the few people lucky enough to hear Miyuki sounding so vulnerable – by the time Miyuki is awake enough to sound more like the bastard he is, the scratchiness is gone. So, naturally, Sawamura likes to monopolize it.
He’d monopolize all of Miyuki, if he could. (And now that he’s the Ace, he always has first dibs.)
“Do we have to get up?” Miyuki complains a moment later.
“Yes,” Sawamura answers immediately, “so you can catch for me.” He bites his lip to keep himself from laughing.
Miyuki’s hand slides underneath Sawamura’s raglan baseball shirt (the red one that he stole from Miyuki) and rests it against the small of his back. A shiver runs down Sawamura’s spine. “What makes you think I’ll do that?”
“Because I’m your favourite,” Sawamura says back with certainty.
Miyuki snorts. “You sure have a lot of unearned confidence.”
“Don’t deny it just because you’re embarrassed, senpai!” Sawamura chirps. To prove his point, he shifts away slightly and tilts his head up to kiss Miyuki’s stubbly jaw. With an almost conditioned response, Miyuki immediately readjusts his angle to kiss Sawamura’s eager mouth.
It’s not an earth-shattering kiss. It’s not even really that special (unless you count their morning breath). But it does make Sawamura’s toes tingle so he supposes that it must count for something.
“I guess you’re right,” Miyuki tries to say nonchalantly once the kiss ends. Sawamura’s laugh is a little too loud and Okumura throws a pillow at them with a muffled “shut up.”
Sawamura is torn between laughing harder and leaping out of Miyuki’s bed to demand some respect from his kouhai. But Miyuki’s arms are too warm, too inviting to even really entertain that train of thought. So Sawamura snuggles closer, wishing that he could live in this moment forever. Not that that wish lingers very long either. If he could live in any moment forever, it would be the moment when he takes Miyuki to Koshien as his Ace.
“Sawamura,” Miyuki mutters, “if you let me sleep until my alarm, I promise I’ll catch for you all day.”
If Sawamura holds on a little tighter, neither of them says anything about it. “Don’t forget that promise, Miyuki-senpai. I won’t let you.”
“Yes, yes.”
Sawamura hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Really. However, being wrapped up in Miyuki’s warm embrace, listening to his soft breathing and steady heartbeat just naturally lulled him to sleep.
Miyuki’s alarm startles Sawamura for two reasons: it sounds different than his own and it means breakfast has already been served.
Jolting upright, still somewhat caught in his lovely dream of chasing Miyuki to the pros, he wacks his head on the bunk above and falls out of Miyuki’s bed with an agonized groan. To his credit, Miyuki barely stirs.
“Miyuki-senpai! Your alarm!” Sawamura cries, rubbing his throbbing forehead. Miyuki’s motions are languid as he sits up, blindly hitting the off button on his alarm. While Sawamura regains his equilibrium, he watches Miyuki groggily reach for his glasses without removing his eye mask, as if he was getting a few more seconds of rest.
Miyuki looks really cute with mused hair, an unshaven jaw and a little bit of drool drying at the corner of his mouth. Maybe Sawamura is just biased but he really does look cute first thing in the morning!
As Miyuki slides out of bed, he attempts to tame his unruly hair with just his fingers. Sawamura bites his lip to keep from smiling. He accepts Miyuki’s almost reluctant hand for help up and kisses Miyuki’s scruffy jaw the moment he’s standing.
“You’re so embarrassing,” Miyuki says. His tone betrays him, however, as Sawamura can hear the softness creeping into the edges of his voice.
Sawamura merely grins. “Don’t forget your promise, Cap’n!”
Miyuki scoffs before he threads his fingers with Sawamura’s. “Anything for you, Ace-sama.”
Despite the clear sarcasm dripping from Miyuki’s voice, it nevertheless makes Sawamura smile. For all his talk, all his gruffness, Miyuki had awkwardly told Sawamura just how proud he was of him for earning the Ace title. That alone had almost made his years of hard work worth it.
Sawamura squeezes his hand. Miyuki bumps him with his shoulder.
It still feels so surreal to Sawamura. It was on a mere impulse that led to Sawamura meeting Miyuki. And ever since that moment, his dream was Miyuki. To be the official battery with him, to take him and his senpai to Koshien, to chase Miyuki all the way to the pros. For Miyuki to like him in the way that Sawamura has liked him since their first meeting all those years ago. He’s been chasing after Miyuki for so long that now that he has him, it still doesn’t quite feel real.
But when Miyuki kisses him after they’ve brushed their teeth and shaved, with the taste of mint toothpaste fresh on their tongues, it has never felt more real.