Work Text:
Autumn leaves never meant much to Sasaki. Their red, orange and yellow hues were just another thing to look past on, their dances as they fell another thing to walk past from, and their briefness another thing to never hold on to. He knew there had been a time, back when he was round-faced and filled with reckless wonder, where autumn meant festivals and family trips and seasonal sweets that he’d fill himself with until all he could do was lay in a bed of leaves, looking for that one specific color in the ones that kept falling right above him, and laugh loudly whenever he got up and discovered that several had gotten stuck in his hair.
He’d lost that at some point. He couldn’t remember what had caused it, but suddenly autumn meant another season lying face down in bed whenever he got free time, clothes still holding on to the smell of his family’s bakery, and falling asleep sooner than he’d expect. It had been so easy to forget those feelings from back then, so Sasaki began assuming they were never that special in the first place. Just something childish, he’d think to himself.
But then, unexpectedly, he came in. Miyano entered his life and, like opening all the doors and windows of a long-closed house at once, air flooded his lungs and played with his hair and slid under his clothes, leaving him breathless, ruffled and bright-eyed.
Slowly but surely, Sasaki had begun to find the wonder in the smallest things, like the mouth of a shared bottle of peach soda or a flower petal cupped carefully in his hand. He relearned how to love the things he grew up doing, like baking pastries or listening to music on the train ride back home or staying awake past his usual bedtime.
Everything, even the passing of time and the coming of seasons, began to feel familiar again, which meant that autumns started meaning something like this:
Warm, quiet evenings that didn’t suffocate him even as he sat at his desk, pages upon pages of theory laid open in front of him. The whispers of a pencil tracing numbers in notebook pages, background music playing only like a memory inside his head. His phone buzzing and lighting up, making his heart jump with the knowledge of who had texted even before seeing his name on the screen.
Miyano Yoshikazu.
Senpai, are you free right now?
Sorry if this is too sudden.
Sasaki tilted his head at the message, a pang of worry echoing in his stomach. He closed all his books and notebooks immediately and wrote a quick reply.
Me.
Yeah, I’m free. Did something happen? Are you okay?
The minute that passed before his phone buzzed again was nerve wracking.
Miyano Yoshikazu.
Everything’s fine! I’m okay! Sorry I made you worry.
I’m at the park near your house and I was wondering if maybe we could meet for a little while.
It’s okay if not, though!
Sasaki was already walking towards the front door.
Me.
I’ll be there in ten.
🍂
“Senpai!”
Sasaki turned towards the direction of his voice, and was greeted by the sight of Miyano walking towards him, golden-eyed and smiling widely.
With his school bag hanging over his shoulder and his uniform blazer perfectly buttoned so the wind wouldn’t fly it open, Sasaki had to take a couple of seconds to shake the sensation of déjà vu that took over him, making him feel as though it was a school-evening like the ones back then, where the happiness of sharing the ride back home with Miyano left him with a lingering taste of yearning in his tongue, bittersweet in a way that became too familiar over the course those months before and after his confession.
It was too strong— the memory— he felt the need to wash it down with something.
As Miyano came closer, he couldn’t resist. Before even greeting him verbally, he leaned down to steal a quick kiss, feeling the butterflies in his stomach flutter wildly at the sheer emotion of knowing he could just do that now. He could also wrap his arms around his shoulders and hold him close to his chest, heartbeats synchronizing as Miyano mumbled something like not fair against his shoulder. He could smile against the top of his head, endeared, and bring him just a little closer, careful not to hurt him. And even if there was no one else around them, that was all that Sasaki would do, even if he wanted more.
And he had always wanted more.
But at that moment, all he did was step back and smile innocently at him, sliding one of his hands from Miyano’s shoulder all the way down to his hand, intertwining their fingers. As if his heart wasn’t still trying to calm down, he asked, “How come you’re here, Myaa-chan?”
Miyano’s free hand twitched at his side. “Kuresawa asked me to help him buy some manga for his girlfriend before he went to visit her at the hospital. I accompanied him on the train ride and since he was getting down at your station, I thought maybe I could visit you, too.”
Sasaki took a mental note to thank Kuresawa later for that. Just a small nod, nothing grand.
In that brief second, Miyano murmured, “I missed you a lot today.”
And Sasaki immediately felt warmth spread over his cheeks, his boyfriend’s sincere admission taking him by surprise. From then on, it was like a chain reaction: as he looked down to the space between their bodies to remind himself that they just hugged, that they were in public and that, for the sake of his sanity, he had to keep it that way, the tips of his fingers started tingling, making him acutely aware that there was a single point of connection that he couldn’t dare to break.
He wondered if his thumping pulse could be heard by Miyano and, if so, if he could decipher it saying that he had missed him too, like crazy.
Unfair, he thought, just how easy it was for Miyano to make him feel so much with a couple of words. But they were also more than that. So much more.
And Sasaki wanted…
He was about to say something (literally anything) when a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. As Sasaki looked up to the playground behind them, he noticed one of the swings moving just barely, as if— but he wouldn’t— would he?
“Myaa-chan,” he began, and he was trying so hard to fight back a smile it was starting to be painful. “Were you… I mean, were you playing on one of the swings while you waited for me?”
Miyano’s startled expression was the last thing he saw before Sasaki threw his head back, eyes closed, laughing sonorous and sprightly. God, he’s adorable.
“To be fair, I hadn’t visited a playground in such a long time!” Miyano explained once Sasaki had calmed down, the tips of his ears a fiery shade of pink. “I couldn’t resist, really. I loved playing on the swings as a kid. I thought I wouldn’t fit anymore but…”
“Do you wanna go again?” Sasaki proposed, tilting his head to the side. He brought Miyano’s hand closer to his chest, just because he could, and because he loved having him close as he talked. “I haven’t been in one of those in a while, either.”
In fact, he could only recall being in a playground once or twice as a child. Despite how easy it was to talk to people back then, he was never the type to play with strange kids, so he didn’t; and between playing alone and staying at home to do and watched anything he wanted, of course he would pick the latter. Although he couldn’t properly remember back then, he knew hadn’t needed or wanted much else.
Sasaki hadn’t been a really active, frisky child, but he could see how Miyano might have been. Perhaps it was on his rosy skin, prone to be sun kissed after a day playing outside, his clothes covered in mud and grass stains but still with a carefree expression on his face; or maybe it was the timbre of his voice, mostly shy but still cheerful at times, carrying the memory and the promise of laughter and distant countdowns in every word; or maybe it was his eyes, holding the warmth of many autumns in their hue, made to be seen under the midday sun as they ran around playing tag.
“I’d like that, senpai,” Miyano replied, and Sasaki also caught a glimpse of that child in his smile.
As they walked back to the playground, Miyano told him of a time, years ago, when he found a grasshopper perched on his coat as he was walking back from school.
“I ran the last trail back home, terrified and trying not to cry. By the time I got to my mom, the grasshopper had fled,” he finished, sitting back down on the swing where he had been moments ago. “Thinking back on it, I truly hope I didn’t just step on him…,” he laughed, and although he did sound a little worried, Sasaki’s chest filled with endearment all the same.
“I never would’ve guessed you’d be afraid of bugs, Myaa-chan. You seem like the type to pick them up and take them outside,” Sasaki admitted, settling down on the swing next to his boyfriend. He was definitely too tall to even swing comfortably, but he still made himself sway a little bit.
Miyano chuckled, as if caught. “I am that type now. It’s just that back then they seemed so terrifying to me. They looked so big and… creepy.” They both laughed at that, Miyano’s memory leaving in the evening breeze.
“If I had known you then, I would’ve protected you from any bug,” Sasaki declared after a moment, not caring if it sounded silly. Though, at that moment, as the autumn leaves fell around them and Sasaki remembered a solitary childhood that didn’t seem entirely his, he genuinely wished he had met Miyano back then.
He wished he had played hide and seek with him the only way kids knew how to, and he wished he had helped Miyano tie his shoelaces when they came loose. He wished he had picked dandelions for him to make any wish that he wanted, and he wished he’d done everything in his power to make it come true. He wished they had wiped mud off each other’s faces with smiles that exposed growing and missing teeth. More, he wished; entire lifetimes next to Miyano.
“Also, I would’ve pushed you so you could swing higher,” he added, each hope feeling more like a memory as the seconds passed.
Miyano’s voice was gentle when he replied, “You can still do that, senpai.”
Sasaki turned his head to look at him, surprised. Miyano was already looking back, cheeks rosy and eyes glimmering, something in the corners of his lips giving away that, more than a suggestion, it was something he wanted: to play with Sasaki as if they were kids, not minding the world around them or the upcoming night.
He stood up and quickly walked behind Miyano, his smile easily turning mischievous. “Okay, but we won’t stop until you swing all the way around, alright?”
“Yeah— wait, what?! Senpai, no!”
Laughter ringed between all the rails and slides, joyful and sincere, like a child’s.