Work Text:
🍊
Spring’s sun was gentle. Shining down on the high school, its heat didn’t sting the way summer’s did, making the students sweat and blush in that uncomfortable way that left them feeling cranky; instead, the rays caressed their skin quietly, inviting them to stay outside and skip classes, brightness matching the laughter that echoed through the field as the boys played and talked and made plans for the upcoming break.
Sasaki wasn’t particularly fond of the outdoors, but Hanzawa had insisted that the whole class should have a picnic to celebrate their last exam, going on about how the fresh air would clear their heads and how the food tastes better when shared, and even though Sasaki would’ve had rather go home early, Hirano had dragged both him and Ogasawara along.
“We’re all gonna enjoy ourselves,” he’d said, and Sasaki could only complain so much.
As he pulled apart the slices of half a clementine a classmate had offered him, there was nothing else that grabbed his attention or occupied his mind. The conversations around him were idle chatter to his ears. All the games his classmates proposed required a level of energy he simply didn’t have at that moment. So, as Ogasawara napped under the shadow of a tree, his back against the trunk, Sasaki considered for a quick second to join him, chewing a clementine slice with heat-induced laziness.
Then, a familiar silhouette moved on the corner of his eye. Like a sunflower, Sasaki turned his head towards him, immediately soaking in the brightness of his far away presence.
“Myaa-chan!”
At the call, Miyano turned his head, footsteps slowing down for a moment before turning towards Sasaki, who got up and started approaching him before Hirano could even say something (not that he didn’t try, but his voice got lost among the rest of the class’).
“Senpai, good morning,” Miyano greeted once they were close enough, offering one of his small smiles.
Cute.
“Mornin’,” Sasaki replied, head tilting as he continued, “what are you doing outside at this hour? Skipping class?” he teased, enjoying Miyano’s immediate wide-eyed reaction.
“Wh-? No! You know I wouldn’t do that!” he reproached, no actual bite in his voice. Sasaki’s smile got wider, unconsciously, and Miyano gave him a side look. “Is that what you’re doing, senpai?”
“Tryin’ to get me to talk, Mr. Disciplinary Committee Member?”
“No,” his defensive tone told Sasaki everything he needed to know. He couldn’t contain the tiniest of chuckles. “Just curious.”
Sasaki liked him so much.
“It’d be nice, but no. Hanzawa organized a picnic to celebrate our exams ending”, he explained, turning his head back to give his classmates a look as he saw Miyano do so. His eyes were quick to fall back on him, though, and only then did Sasaki noticed that Miyano wasn’t wearing any of his usual cardigans or vests, just the plain white uniform shirt.
In the back of his mind, he wondered something about the surrounding heat; he could not be sure if it was his own or the weather’s.
“Senpai?” he heard a moment later, and it only took a quick blink for him to bring his composed facade back.
“Want some?” Raising his hand, Sasaki offered the clementine he was holding, careful not to squash it. The way Miyano followed his movements with bright, questioning eyes didn’t go unnoticed, and Sasaki’s fingertips tingled in the way they did whenever he had to resist an impulse.
“Oh. I’ll take a slice, if you don’t mind.”
Honestly, Sasaki had expected a turn down. It wasn’t the first time he had offered Miyano some of his food, or something he had bought only to share with him, but either he needed some convincing before accepting, or didn’t do it at all. He could count with one hand the times Miyano had accepted so easily, and for some reason he hadn’t considered he would add another one that day.
“Not at all. Here, I’ll split it.” He moved quickly, ignoring his fluttering heart. He knew there was no solid reason (he’s letting me feed him, he’s letting me share), but Miyano was the only person that could cause that effect on Sasaki with such a simple gesture. “There you go.”
“Thank you.” Sasaki was careful when placing the fruit in Miyano’s open palm, knowing that the smallest touch would disarm him completely. He was already holding back, both movements and words, and it was proving to be more difficult by the second.
As Miyano took apart a slice and raised it to his lips, Sasaki made himself look up to the field, suddenly interested in the greenery surrounding them.
“Are clementines your favorite fruit, Myaa-chan?” he asked, because he was curious, and because he wanted to hear Miyano’s voice again, but, above all, because he was a fool.
Miyano made a pensive hum and Sasaki was also weak.
“When they’re not too sweet. But I also like strawberries a lot,” he replied after a moment. It was Sasaki’s turn to hum, a mental note forming in his head.
The vague acknowledgement made Miyano look up to him, a question ready to be asked written in his expression, but Sasaki intervened again. “Is this one okay, then? Or is it too sweet?”
“It’s perfect, thank you!” Sasaki looked down right on time to see Miyano smile widely, eyes closing as the sunlight shining through the leaves danced over them. There was a breeze ruffling his hair, making the strands sway gently, and Sasaki had to eat one of his remaining slices just to do something with his hands and mouth. “By the way, senpai, about the manga that I gave you yesterday…”
As he carried on, Sasaki realized that Hanzawa was right about something: food did taste better when shared. Especially if it was with the person you loved.
🍓
Miyano was done folding the last piece of his laundry when he heard the doorbell ring. Immediately, his heart jumped inside his chest, the promise of an evening spent together with his favorite person filling him with both excitement and expectation.
It was an unusual thing, opening the front door to find someone there waiting for him, wanting to see and talk to him. As a kid, he never had that many friends come over to his house; the few visits they got were mostly from his mom’s friends, some classmates that picked up something he lent them but never stayed, and some relatives that only engaged in small talk with him before carrying on in adult conversations that he couldn’t be part of.
As he touched the cold handle of the door with dryer-warm hands, the flutter in his stomach reminded him just how new this whole experience was.
Back then, he would’ve never thought he’d greet someone with such a sincere smile, let alone his boyfriend. Or that said boyfriend would immediately go to ruffle his hair and, while exclaiming a fake complaint, Miyano would realize that he didn’t actually mind when it was him doing that. He kind of liked it, actually.
He liked it a lot. He liked Sasaki a lot.
Once they were both inside the house, Miyano took a better look at him. They hadn’t seen each other in a couple of days because of school duties (which only made Miyano more eager to graduate to finally go back to the routine of being in the same school as Sasaki), and despite their nightly calls and constant text conversations during the day, the warmth spreading inside his chest at the sight of Sasaki walking into his living room was like a balm that eased the heaviness of missing him.
A year ago, he wasn’t sure. Some time and a confession later, he could firmly say it: that’s what love felt like.
Miyano blinked, coming back to himself. The glimpse of a yellow bag Sasaki was holding had grabbed his attention. “Did you bring something, senpai?”
Sasaki’s smile widened as he took out a small container. Miyano wanted to hug him. “Yeah! Saw them on my way here. They were the last one’s left, so, lucky me.”
When he used that sing-song tone, Miyano couldn’t help but think how cute his boyfriend was. His excitement as he showed him what he had brought was contagious, too.
“Strawberries,” Sasaki announced, the gleam in his eyes accentuated by the gentle spring rays filtering through the window. The setting sun was as warm as his voice when he said, “your favorites.”
Miyano looked up at him, helpless to the color that shoot up from his neck to the tips of his ears. It still took him by surprise just how attentive Sasaki was to everything he said or did, even if it was back when he didn’t know about the nature of his feelings towards him. Just how far did they go?
“Thank you,” Miyano said, soft and quiet like that day’s breeze, and the memory of the conversation tasted like clementine juice on his tongue. Sweet. “I’ll, um… I’ll wash them and then we can eat! Please, make yourself comfortable.”
“I’ll come with you to help.”
If Miyano stood any closer to Sasaki, he would combust. And yet, “Okay, thank you,” he repeated, quiet, walking towards the kitchen and feeling more than hearing Sasaki stay close to him.
Once the strawberries were washed, dried and put in a bowl, Sasaki took them as they walked to Miyano’s bedroom, talking about a new album one of their favorite bands had released recently. The conversation flowed easily, Sasaki revealing he had brought the CD so that they could listen together, making Miyano fumble as he went to sat down on the floor.
“Careful, Myaa-chan,” Sasaki teased, his voiced bubbly with contained laughter. Miyano didn’t know what he wanted more: hide under the bed or smother his boyfriend in a hug. He then considered choking the words he wanted to say with a strawberry.
As he took one from the plate, Sasaki talked again, “Feed me? Juuust kidding.”
Miyano turned to look at him, taken aback by his proposal, as Sasaki lowered his head, trying to hide that bashful smile that took over his lips whenever he played with him like that, and whenever he was trying to pretend that he wasn’t saying something he actually wanted. Surely he must know by now, Miyano thought, that he didn’t need to do that. There was no point. Miyano knew.
He had already memorized that specific expression of his and the peculiar melody of his voice that accompanied it. Even if he closed his eyes and all he could hear was the small huff Sasaki let out of his nose to conceal his nervousness, Miyano would be able to picture it in his head: the glimmer in his eyes, the barely-there blush on his cheeks, his hair falling over his face trying to hide all of it. But Miyano knew.
He even had kissed that smile off his face, once.
After a beat of silence, Sasaki turned towards him, probably about to play it off; but Miyano was waiting for him with a strawberry held up between his fingertips, careful not to drop it.
“Open wide, Sasaki-senpai,” he whispered, ignoring the heat expanding on his face all the way down to his neck.
Miyano had never fed anyone. He had read and watched many scenes similar to what was happening (and he was definitely not thinking about them) but it never occurred to him that he would be a participant in such activity, let alone the one who started it. But Sasaki had fed him before, hadn’t he? In any way that could be done: by giving him something he had bought, something he had prepared or something someone else had given him. He had even eaten from his hand, once, although briefly. Miyano had rarely found the chance to reciprocate, but he was not going to give it up as it was basically handed to him.
Sasaki wanted something and Miyano could give it to him. And wasn’t that what boyfriends did? Take care of each other and comply to every wish?
As Sasaki bit the fruit (slow, careful, his palms firmly placed on the floor), it was hard for Miyano to fight back a smile, so he didn’t. He let it take over his face, endearment spreading like warmth inside his chest, down his arms and all the way to his hands. He liked that feeling— doing something small for the one person he loved deeply, and loved him back all the same, both of them knowing just how much the gesture meant for the history they shared.
“How is it?” Voice barely there, Miyano leaned in to clean a drop of juice hanging from Sasaki’s mouth with his thumb, impulsed by the bravery that comes after successfully trying something new. “Sweet?”
Sasaki’s eyes were attentive to every single movement of Miyano’s lips, fingers twitching as an idea came to mind. “Mm. Wanna try?”
That was all the warning he got before Sasaki pressed their lips together. And in the brief seconds of gentleness from his boyfriend and sweet acidity from the fruit, Miyano realized he had totally gotten himself into the ever-so-tropey situation by his own hand (quite literally), but he wouldn’t dare to complain at all. That didn’t stop his thumping heart from trying to end it all right then and there, though.
Sasaki pulled back carefully. “Sorry,” he began, and something tingled in the back of Miyano’s mind, “it would’ve been a waste if I didn’t do that.”
Miyano couldn’t handle just how close his face was. The bravery was over, apparently. He buried his head in Sasaki’s shoulder, sure that he would feel the heat in his face through the fabric of his shirt. “It’s alright,” he reassured, because it was the truth and Sasaki needed to know. He must know.
“Can I have another one, then?” Sasaki asked, voice becoming chipper by the second. “And I don’t necessarily mean a strawberry.”
Miyano groaned, hiding himself deeper into Sasaki’s chest. Yet, a second later, he conceded. “As many as you want.”