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Mukai Taiyou is in no way, shape, or form a coward. If he wants something, he goes for it. When he wants to accomplish a goal, he will work hard to reach it, because he knows he can. He has always been like this, since he was a kid. It’s all simple, really, almost like success and pride come naturally to him.
Except…
He’s laying on his bed, arms splayed out, eyes glued to the ceiling, legs hanging over the side, and feeling afraid of all things.
A strand of hair from his bangs tickles his nose and he roughly puffs it out of his face, pouting. The hair disappears from his face but the tickling feeling doesn’t.
“Something wrong?”
Taiyou’s head tilts to the side theatrically and his eyes land on Inui, who’s reading a book for his class. His eyes still scan the words on the page, until there’s a pause with no answer from Taiyou, and he looks up. Taiyou lets out a sigh through his nose.
The true answer is that yes, there is something wrong, something Taiyou feels is almost inexplicable in its reality. But for once, he can’t share it with Inui.
So what he responds with is, “No.” While the answer itself is straightforward enough, Taiyou cringes at the fact that he can already see the doubt in Inui’s firm stare. Curse Inui and his ability to read him so easily.
Taiyou looks away for a moment, snaking his outstretched arm so that his forearm rests lazily on the side of Inui’s thigh and he can lean on it for the natural warmth it provides. It’s not much, but it’s enough for Taiyou to feel his tense nerves steady a bit in a way that calms him down. A light, relaxing touch.
“Taiyou,” says Inui, and Taiyou wants to sigh and groan and scream to the heavens all at once.
So, maybe Taiyou realized that he’s in love with his catcher. And maybe it’s only been a few days since he made that revelation. And maybe he doesn’t really know what to do with this information.
He’s never been in love before (not that anyone could ever meet his hopelessly high standards in the past), but Inui is the whole nine yards and then some. Kind, understanding, talented, smart, handsome… But he is also just Inui, and that takes the entire damn cake. It’s so hard for Taiyou to explain and process his feelings, and he’s no expert in romance. And he doesn’t really know who he can ask about this because now he feels afraid and entirely unsure what to do with the news.
So he does what he does worst and puts on a front, giving Inui a strained smile and hoping that his cuteness will get him out of this one.
“Yes, Inui-san?” he asks, so sweet and maybe slightly shaky, but he tries not to think about that part so much. Sometimes it helps to remind himself that this is his catcher he’s talking to, but then he remembers everything his catcher has done for him, and it makes him all flustered.
“You seem like you're in a strange mood. Is something bugging you?”
Taiyou’s eyes migrate from Inui to the ceiling. At this point, it feels like they’re going in circles and he doesn’t know if Inui will let up. He’s so stubborn. He cares so much. It disgusts Taiyou how much he loves it.
He moves his forearm away from Inui, and a cold draft replaces the warmth of Inui’s thigh. His stomach curls with stress.
“Do I have to talk about it right now?” he asks, hoping for one last out to the conversation.
“Only if you want to,” Inui answers, ever the understanding and respectable friend.
Taiyou nearly groans, but he holds himself back. He starts thinking about the three-dimensional strike zone and all of its angles and complexities, and the action calms the storm in his belly. With one last puff of air to the tingling feeling on his face, he replies and the conversation ends.
“I do not, Inui-san.”
—
This time, Taiyou is laying on the floor. It’s only the next day, and once more he and Inui are hanging out together, but now they’re in Inui’s room, and he’ll be honest and admit that he’s afraid to sit on the bed. It’s not that Inui hasn’t given him more than enough room (if anything, he usually gives Taiyou too much and Taiyou just takes it all ), but more that Taiyou is again nervous and his stomach is still performing a gymnastics routine for the Olympics.
He looks at the spot next to Inui longingly, thinking back to last week when he had fallen asleep in that exact space with Inui telling him about his first time catching in an official game when he was younger, repeating the story again for Taiyou simply because Taiyou asked him to. Taiyou loves the story; he’s asked for it probably a thousand times at this point, after the first time when Taiyou asked out of plain curiosity. He’s not sure if Inui understands why he loves hearing that story so much, but it just makes Taiyou happy to know that it’s pure, unadulterated fact, before he came into Inui’s life and threw it all into a frenzy. But Taiyou recognizes that it’s Inui’s history and it’s real.
And yet, he also really loves that spot on Inui’s bed and wants to take up all of the space. It’s his spot. Stupid temptation, but even stupid-er nervousness.
“You don’t have homework?” Inui asks.
“I do,” Taiyou replies with a yawn, eyeing the ceiling yet again. His back is starting to ache from the hardness of the ground, and he adjusts his position with a wince.
“If you’re hurting your back like that, your pitching will be affected,” Inui says, looking at him sternly. He glances over to the open space next to him with a frown. “Have I not left you enough room on the bed?”
Panicking, Taiyou sits up suddenly, and his vision blurs a bit. He shakes out his body from getting up so quickly to adjust to an upright position. Maybe it’s just him, but he senses a bit of hurt in Inui’s tone. It’s so cliche of him to think about saying “it’s not you, it’s me,” but it’s where his brain goes. The simple fact is that he’s just too nervous around Inui right now. Either way, he has to get rid of that sadness in Inui’s tone, and he pouts as he gets up, putting aside his lack of courage and taking up the side of the bed that’s furthest from Inui, but still gives himself enough room to sit comfortably without falling.
“Seems like I have enough room,” he replies plainly, awkwardly. It’s Inui’s bed, one that he’s passed out on a thousand times before in sheer exhaustion, one where he’s feigned sleep to feel the soft stroke of Inui’s fingers against his back (because Inui never does it while he’s awake), one where he slowly and unknowingly fell in love with the simplicity and comfort of their relationship.
“I’m glad to hear,” Inui says. He sets down his homework in his lap (which Taiyou glances at and notices it’s almost all done while he’s barely touched his), sighing once through his nose. “Something is wrong.” This time, it's not a question and instead spoken like a true fact of life. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
Taiyou shakes his head quickly. “No, Inui-san.” Should he just say it? It’s not like the feeling will suddenly disappear. Not that Taiyou wants it to. Despite all the grief he’s basically caused himself, Inui himself has not done anything but be Inui and treat him with the same kindness and care he always does.
Taiyou’s just stressed. That’s it. And too in love for his own good. He can’t really control it, if he’s being honest. Maybe that’s also why he can’t control what he says next.
“Inui-san, I am in love with you.”
Well, shit. He has just said it and definitely did not plan that at all. How stupid of him to go into this without a plan. He should have thought about it, considered Inui’s needs, planned something more meaningful, maybe figure out a—
“You are?”
Taiyou is so stuck in his own head, pulling at his hair and playing nervously with Inui’s blanket on his bed, that he doesn’t notice Inui’s reaction until he speaks and Taiyou looks up at him.
Inui’s face has the same look as when he’s struck by lightning after one of Taiyou’s awe-inspiring pitches. Shocked, excited, and… pleased? There’s a small twinkle in his eye as he meets Taiyou’s gaze, who is also surprised and now flushed from the vulnerability of it all. Throughout all of this, Taiyou’s brain will never fail to remind him how handsome Inui is.
“Uh… yes?” he replies, unsure. It comes out as a question, mostly because Taiyou is still trying to process the fact that he actually spilled the words from his own lips. Maybe love is too soon. They have obviously known each other for a fair while, but love is, perhaps, a big jump, especially because they are just friends and aren’t dating. Nevertheless, Taiyou knows how he feels, and he really just can’t help it.
The pause that comes after Taiyou’s reply feels way, way too long to him. He sees how Inui processes the words, hands clutching a little bit tighter to his homework, feeling the tension radiating from his entire being. To Taiyou, it almost feels like Inui is… broken? Almost like the cogs in his brain have stopped working.
“You are,” Inui repeats, but this time it isn’t a question. That itself spurs Taiyou to jump over and grab Inui’s hand with both of his own in a panic, causing Inui to let go of his homework, and both of their cheeks mirror a rosy flush.
“Well, are you going to say something?” Taiyou whines, feeling sweat rise in his palms. His heart has never beat so fast in his entire life, and the stampede that wreaks havoc in his stomach makes his core shake with worry.
“I apologize. I will admit that I am still trying to process this,” Inui replies, a murmur somewhat reaching his voice. He removes his homework fully from his hands and grips at Taiyou’s more freely, a small smile reaching his lips. Taiyou’s heart nearly combusts at the sight. “I would not have imagined you telling me this, mostly because I feel the same way.”
Taiyou’s heart stops. He scoots a little closer on the bed, folded legs now brushing up against Inui’s crossed ones. Both of their hands sweat profusely at this point. “You do?”
Inui nods. “How could I not? You are so admirable and talented. Not to mention cute.”
A grin reaches Taiyou’s lips as his confidence builds up again, despite the redness that follows in his cheeks. He can’t help himself at this point.
“You can keep going if you’d like,” Taiyou prompts, switching positions so they’re both sitting thigh to thigh next to each other, hands still clutched as if letting go means losing each other to the wind. Inui gives him a look, but he obliges.
“You are unlike any pitcher I have ever caught for.”
“Mmm.” Taiyou’s grin widens.
“I will never meet someone as dedicated and driven as you.”
Taiyou nods, pleased, leaning his head on Inui’s shoulder as he continues to listen.
“You have a cute button nose, and lips that almost distract me during games. Of course, I don’t let it happen.”
Tongue sticking out and licking at said lips, Taiyou’s eyes cross as he tries to get a look at his facial features.
Inui doesn’t miss the action, and says, “Cute.”
Taiyou looks up from crossing his eyes, turning his head to find Inui closer than he’s ever been, now that they’re shoulder to shoulder. There’s so much admiration and love for him in Inui’s eyes. It makes Taiyou so warm and happy and gooey. Is he allowed to kiss him? Taiyou hasn’t had his first kiss yet, but the more he stares at Inui’s lips, inviting and just a ghost of a smile on them, the more he can’t help but want it to be right now.
“You’re the cute one,” Taiyou replies, somewhat softly, as he remains distracted by their lack of distance. His eyes dart from Inui’s lips to his eyes, and he finds Inui’s doing the same, so focused and enraptured. Taiyou licks his lips again.
“Taiyou, if it’s alright,” Inui starts, eyes following the trace of Taiyou’s tongue on his lips, “I wanted to ask if I could kiss you?”
Taiyou smiles, feeling his heart race, his stomach flip, his palms sweat. He doesn’t really know what he was expecting from the confession that spilled messily from his lips, but now he doesn’t care. Nothing with Inui has ever felt forced, from their battery on the field, to the soft, secret moments they have together. He has never felt so content. His reply is simple, yet sincere.
“I think you should do that.”