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Prior to dating Mizutani, shame was not something Izumi was especially accustomed to.
Embarrassment, sure. That's as familiar to him as it is to any teenage boy, and even if it hadn't been the case in middle school, being friends with Tajima and his flapping mouth would have taken care of that in a hurry. But shame, the pervasive sensation that he's doing something unacceptable by his own standards, something he can't let anyone ever know about it because he's just not that guy -- even as he keeps doing it: that, he isn't used to.
At least he didn’t use to be. Now, though, it's a permanent companion. It's there full force each Sunday when he performs the act and all day, every day, whenever he sees or hear a reminder of what he can't seem to stop doing. There are a lot of reminders, some of which leave him staring at his feet in self-inflicted mortification. Or swearing to himself that this time he's going to stop, this time he's not going to give in because there's no way to justify his behaviour, and what if someone found out?
Yet every Sunday he sits at the house computer, plugs in his phone and the baseball-shaped key on the monitor's USB ports, and makes a full back-up before returning both items to his pocket and his keyring, respectively.
Because Izumi doesn't only save every single message Mizutani sends him, even those made of nothing but emoji.
He also carries them with him, leaving them only as far as the dugout during practice, and has taken to fiddling with the key's cap during class: 'pathetic' doesn't even begin to cover it. To top it off, the immense majority of these emails have no informational value whatsoever. Practice was hard, class is boring, I got told off for not finishing my homework in time, Abe looks grumpy today -- it's an avalanche of trivia that was useless even at the time of writing, and Izumi has redundant backups for it.
To look at it, the first one he purposely saved is especially inconsequential. But it's the timing that matters, because Mizutani had just spent a week avoiding him, then when confronted had kissed him out of the blue and Izumi had no idea what was going on except that his heart was beating too fast and he still had no idea what Mizutani wanted. But when he saw the name on his phone ten minutes into his first class of the afternoon, he knew that, at least, Mizutani was done pretending he didn't exist.
That was enough to warrant keeping the message, even when it turned out to say nothing but "Aahhhh, I was late to class and got scolded (Ｔ▽Ｔ)". He answered it immediately, too, and the one after and the one after that, just to establish communication again despite the weird kissing incident. And with that, even while he still wasn't sure what was going on between them, even while his body started reacting in weird ways to Mizutani's presence or an off-hand mention of his name, they kept moving forward.
It all got sorted out, in time. There's no more frantically racing heartbeat, no embarrassing erection if they're pressed against each other on a train. They've been together long enough, now, that habit has taken over and Izumi doesn't feel a need to respond to each and every message he gets: his answers have trickled down to the bare minimum, but the regular influx provides a rhythm to his school days that is a lot more satisfying than the succession of teachers through his classroom.
Until, one morning after a pretty normal practice, nothing comes.
It's no cause to worry, of course, except that it probably means Mizutani's class got a pop quiz in geography which is going to mean endless whining because that's the one topic he hasn't studied for in the past week. Izumi keeps the phone close, and spends more energy thinking up a properly comforting answer than listening to his literature teacher.
After two hours he restarts his phone, just in case.
By lunch there's still nothing.
Not a pop quiz, then. Maybe Mizutani forgot his phone at home. Wasn't he kind of late to practice this morning? If he had to run out, he might have forgotten it. In which case there's no point in asking about it, and also Izumi isn't that desperate. It's fine. It should be fine.
If only it hadn't been today.
More precisely, if it hadn't been right after yesterday's confession. Sort-of confession, which was really more of a case of insulting Mizutani's intelligence, but the love thing definitely came up in the conversation and he definitely said yes. At which point Mizutani failed to respond in kind, and kept apologizing for something that Izumi was too weary to try and figure out.
For a few minutes he felt a little guilty about saying it that way, but the insult was deserved. It should have been self-evident, considering the number of time Izumi's allowed his boyfriend (who takes forever picking up any skill, seriously) to do him. Sure, Izumi gets a handjob out of it once the main event is over and done with, but that's still not what he'd call a healthy and fulfilling sex life. After this long, Mizutani should have learned to take more care than that, if...
If he cared at all.
"Wow, Izumi, you look scary!"
He glares at Tajima, not that it'll have any effect. "What's wrong?" his classmate asks, overly cheerful. Half hidden behind him, Mihashi is also looking anxiously at Izumi. A quick glance to the right confirms that Hamada is glancing his way in a completely not casual manner.
His friends are worried about him. He'd be grateful for them, in other circumstances.
Izumi sighs, raises his hands in defeat. "I'm being an idiot, that's all. I'm fine."
It's very likely probably maybe not even a complete lie. There's still a chance that Mizutani's phone's battery just died.
The first thing he sees after getting to practice is Mizutani trying to change into his uniform with his phone stuck to his ear.
Right.
"You think I can't handle being on my-- I was twelve at the-- Fine, fine, I'll ask, okay!"
Izumi changes in record time, but the conversation is over before he gets to escape to the field.
"They think I'm still a kid!" Mizutani whines dramatically, and for a dozen seconds nobody picks it up.
Sakaeguchi glances at Izumi before breaking the silence himself. "Who does?"
"My parents!" All the pain and despair in the world are contained in those two words. "A water pipe broke at my aunt's and flooded everything, so they have to go help her out for a couple of days. My sister's on a field trip, so they told me to invite someone over to guard the house. Like I can't do that myself!"
Izumi is very careful not to let anyone see his face.
"But isn't that a good thing?" Sakaeguchi asks, puzzled. "You can invite anyone you want, right?"
Izumi is almost sure he can hear his own teeth grinding. Sakaeguchi was involved in this even before he was. There was never a public announcement or anything, but he knows, just like Suyama does. Which makes the questioning sound like 'what happened between the two of you?' when Izumi would much prefer it if everyone would just butt the hell out.
"I know," Mizutani says, mollified. "But it's cooler if it's a secret from the parents, right? Instead of them telling me to do it." Sakaeguchi laughs out loud. Even Izumi can't help a smile. Of course it's all about the coolness factor. Mizutani has no filter between his brain and his mouth. "Izumi, you can come over, right?"
He turns, the smile freezing on his lips. Mizutani is grinning at him, bright and hopeful, almost as though everything is fine. And, maybe, everything is. There are a thousand reasons why he might have not sent a single email today, and Izumi's inability to come up with more than one is his own failing. Maybe. "How long?"
Mizutani grins wider. "Tonight and tomorrow! My sister's coming back the day after."
Izumi nods. That should be doable, especially if he plays up the 'Mizutani can't tie his own shoelaces' angle to his mother. He's not sure he'll be able to stand up on the last morning if he has to endure sex three days in a row, but that's a concern for later. "I'll have to go home for my stuff, though."
His mother does him one better: she packs his school stuff and clothes, and drives to Mizutani's to drop them off, along with enough leftovers to last them the week. She leaves, thankfully, with nothing more embarrassing than a fond 'don't stay up too late,' which is nonetheless enough to leave them standing awkwardly at the door. Izumi doesn't think things have ever been that uncomfortable between them since the week after the kissing incident.
What's annoying is that there's no reason for it.
"So, uhm..."
Izumi kisses him, right there in the entrance, because sex is what happens whenever it's just the two of them in either of their houses, so they might as well get it over with. Mizutani flounces a little, as always, as though Izumi is the one with no patience. But he gets with the program soon enough, and while manoeuvring around the corners isn't an easy task they still manage to get to the bedroom without more damage than a stubbed toe.
They fall on the bed in a haphazard mess, still kissing, and there's something unusual that Izumi can't quite put his finger on.
Until he realizes that they've been making out for upward of three minutes, and Mizutani hasn't tried to bargain to be on top yet. That's weird. Not bad in any way, but weird.
Five more minutes later, Izumi is still not being skewered by his stupid impatient gorgeous boyfriend. Instead his t-shirt is bunched up under his arms, and Mizutani's hands are sticking firmly above his waist. And then Mizutani's fingers slide over his nipple, and stay there, fumbling. Izumi makes a face at the ceiling. "What are you doing?"
Mizutani freezes with his thumb still pressed against Izumi's nipple. "Foreplay?"
Izumi makes an honest attempt at saying, well, anything, but even when he finally gets his jaw working, no sound comes out. Eventually he just takes a deep breath, grabs his boyfriend by the shoulders, and pushes him off. "What is wrong with you today?"
"What-- nothing!" Mizutani's frowning, apparently more confused than in denial. But surely he can't not have noticed that he's behaving strangely, right?
"Really? Because normally by now you'd already be telling me how you're at your limit and can't take five minutes to do it properly." That comes out a little more bitter than he'd intended, but it's true. It's true and they both know it.
Still, it's a bit like watching one of those plants that draw back into themselves as soon as touched. "But you hate it when I do that."
He does. But when has that ever mattered? "You're known that since the beginning. So why today?"
Mizutani retreats even further, until he's leaning back against the wall, twisting handfuls of blanket between his fingers. "I'm sorry," he says, staring down. The same words as yesterday.
"What for?" He takes so much coaxing sometimes, Izumi almost feels it in himself to feel sorry for Abe for having to do this with Mihashi all the time.
But Mizutani shakes his head, still looking down. "You'll be mad at me." A self-fulfilling prophecy if ever there was one.
"Already halfway there, trust me."
That earns him a gasp, a shaky intake of breath, and finally Mizutani looks back at him but he looks almost pained, and definitely terrified. "I've been doing it on purpose," he confesses.
For ten seconds Izumi says nothing. First he tries to give Mizutani the benefit of the doubt, to interpret this revelation as meaning anything else than what it obviously does. Then he processes the information. And Mizutani was wrong: he's not angry. Anger, all things considered, might have been preferable. "Why would you do that?"
"It's your face."
Izumi wants to scream. Throw something. At the very least, swing a bat a few thousand times. Instead he sits still. "My face," he repeats numbly.
Mizutani nods. "When we're doing it, your expression is... it's something you don't show to anyone else. It makes me feel like I'm special. To you."
Izumi blinks, takes a deep breath. And explodes. "My face makes you feel special? What about my ass, you moron? Do you think I'd let just anyone do that to me? Especially as badly as you've been doing it?" But it's all coming together in his mind. He'd thought he was obvious, but if Mizutani honestly didn't know until the confession, if this was his way to reassure himself that he mattered... The flow of rage ebbs away. "You couldn't have just asked?"
"That's too embarrassing!" Of course. It's uncool, isn't it, to wonder if the person you're dating actually cares about you. It's even worse to ask. And after today, it's not really up to Izumi to throw the first stone. Instead, he pushes himself up to crawl between Mizutani's legs. His boyfriend looks a little terrified, which in the circumstances is rather satisfying to see. "Are you going to kill me?" he whispers in a manically cheerful voice.
"Don't be stupid," Izumi drops. Then he waits. Ten seconds, twenty, until Mizutani is looking back at him, waiting, anxious. "Do you love me?" He's not blushing. Hopefully.
"Yes!" The answer flies back so fast, so intense, that it almost makes Izumi reel back. "So much, you don't even... I've even memorized your timetable and your mom's birthday and it makes me so happy when you smile at me and--" he bites his lips, and Izumi didn't lie when he said he never wanted to see him cry, but his eyes are overly bright and it's kind of beautiful. "And I'm really really sorry."
He looks it, too, and vulnerable beside, like he's afraid of what happens now. As well he should be, if he's really been pulling that crap on purpose. Were it anyone else, Izumi would let them macerate in their own sweat overnight. But at the end of the day he is madly, stupidly, irrationally in love with this boy. "I save your emails," he admits, forcing himself to push out the words. "All of them."
"Oh?" Mizutani says distractedly. Then, "Oh!" He gapes for a moment. "But doesn't it bother you? You never answer."
"Because it's useless!" Izumi replies instantly, then bites his lips when it reaches his brain. Yeah, it's useless. So few of the emails Mizutani sends him, all day every day, have any actual content. But he still welcomes them. Waits for them. Becomes unsettled, when they don't come. And then there's the whole back-up thing.
It's not useless, is it? These messages, they do have value to him. And he never thought about it, but maybe an answer would be worth just as much to Mizutani, whatever it contained. Maybe neither of them has been especially self-aware.
"That's wrong," he says. "It doesn't bother me. I'll try to answer more often, so you don't have to not do it."
Mizutani stares at him for a long, long time. "Okay," he says, eventually, and the grin he's sporting is bad, bad news. "I'll make sure to send you lots of emails, since you-"
"More importantly," Izumi interrupts before this becomes humiliating. "I said something yesterday that I have to take back." He pauses. "You should definitely get to know how it feels, after all."
Mizutani drives himself a little further back against the wall. "Uhm." He swallows as the implications sink in. "But you'll do it properly, right?"
"Give me one good reason why I should." Now Izumi's the one who's grinning. This is as it should be. This is as it should have been from the beginning.
Mizutani whimpers in the back of his throat. "B-because you love me?" he says, trying to sound steady and confident and failing miserably.
But it still makes Izumi smile, lean forward, because he is that guy, when all is said and done. "See," he says, right before they kiss. "Now you get it."