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When Miyuki awoke, the familiar pain in his stomach made him groan against his pillow. Why now? he thought. He contemplated going back to sleep, hoping that when he awoke the pain would be gone, but he knew better than to get too hooked on wishful thinking.
He braced himself and stumbled out of bed, not really minding if he woke his roommates in the process. He made a mad-sleepy-dash toward his desk where his saving grace was stored, only to find that the bottle was empty.
“For fuck’s sake,” he whined, slumping in his desk chair and gently slamming his head on his desk. He suddenly felt dread course through his veins as he shot up again and ran back to bed, finding the literal red terror ruining his sheets.
A string of muffled curses left his mouth in sequence as he tore his sheets from his bed, throwing his sweatpants off and tossing them in the pile. Belatedly, and with a tight chest, he realized that the sweats were actually Eijun’s, and there was no way he would be able to get all the stains out. He threw on a new pair of sweats--also Eijun’s, he realized. How much clothing did the pitcher have there anyway?--and stomped to the laundry room.
He pulled out his phone to apologize to Eijun in advance, only to find a text message from his boyfriend already waiting in his inbox.
<SORRY KAZUYA!! ｡゜(｀Д´)゜｡ TAKISHIMA-SAN THINKS I ROLLED MY ANKLE WHEN I FELL RUNNING THIS MORNING SO I HAVE TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL!! I SHOULD BE BACK BEFORE DINNER-TIME, THOUGH!!>
Miyuki slumped against the washing machine with a frown as he typed out his message, pausing when a second message arrived.
<And today’s the day!! You probably know that by now..don’t forget to take your magic-cramp-begone-medicine before morning practice! Last time you said that the cramps really hurt!!╏ ˵ ✪ ﹏ ✪ ˵ ╏Don’t die!! Love you!>
<Okay. I’ll see you later then. Sorry, one of your pairs of sweatpants got ruined.>
<That’s okay!! Things happen!! What’s done is done!! Take care of yourself until I get back!>
“What did you think I was gonna do, jerk?” he asked the empty room, closing his phone without responding.
He changed the sheets to the dryer and made his way back to his room to change into his practice uniform. Queasy nausea had him steering away from breakfast as he walked to the practice. What if it leaked through? The uniform wasn’t thick, and it had to be white because he was cursed . Though, he’d had these thoughts once a month since arriving at Seido anyway. Still.
“Miyuki-senpai, are you okay?” Haruichi asked softly when Miyuki passed him near the indoor practice facility. “I didn’t see you at breakfast, and I was worried that you--”
“Fine,” he said, plowing past the pink-haired boy before he could figure out what was wrong. The kid was too sharp for his own good.
His cramps were even worse once practice started, and the only solace Miyuki found was when he was crouching on the plate, alleviating some of the unyielding pain. The issue therein was whenever he had to stand up to throw back the ball or make a play. This was the worst day of his life, he decided.
The icing on that cake was when a fly ball slammed into his head at the end of practice. The first-year was mortified, so he didn’t say anything, but the migraine he already had was bad enough without the little bump on his temple.
__
His school trousers were itchy and of course he was bloated. The universe was against him. The hem of his pants dug into his skin and his binder hurt and he just wanted to crawl back into bed. Or get Eijun to comfort him.
He let out a long-suffering sigh toward the window. He could tell that his fan-club was sending worried glances his direction, but he couldn’t muster the energy to send them a reassuring smile. He just wanted his boyfriend, mostly, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen in the near future.
Kuramochi turned around to look him over worriedly. He assumed he looked a little green. He also knew he must look extremely grumpy since the fluorescent lights were hurting his eyes and his head was pounding. He slumped against his desk.
His phone lit up with a message and he felt his lips curl slightly.
<You’re almost done!! You can do it!! I love you!!♥ ⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )>
He closed his phone again without responding and pressed his forehead to the cool wood of his desk.
__
Once lunch break rolled around, Miyuki was about to break down. Everything ached and his clothes were too tight and he felt sick and his head hurt. He groaned against his desk again as Kuramochi kept a conversation going for both of them.
“Oi, are you okay?” he finally asked. Miyuki shrugged.
“Not really.”
“What’s wrong, then? The last time you hid something from us--”
“I know!” he snapped, glaring up at the shortstop before dropping his head down again. “It’s not an injury. You can’t fix it so just leave me alone.”
Kuramochi felt his phone buzz against his pocket and turned his attention from the captain to check it.
<Kuramochi-senpai!! How is Kazuya acting today?? It’s very important!! ( ง ᵒ̌皿ᵒ̌)ง⁼³₌₃> Kuramochi glared down at his phone, considering just not answering the second-year and letting him stew. One glance at the pouting boy behind him made him sigh and discreetly text back before stuffing his face with his lunch and trying to get a better reaction out of Miyuki.
<grumpy & annoyed>
<OSHI!! ʕ •̀ o •́ ʔ THANK YOU SENPAI!!!>
__
Miyuki glowered at home-plate as his stomach roiled and his head pounded, his vision blurring slightly.
His guards were pressing on his flesh in the worst possible way and he was getting crankier by the minute. Practice was going to be the worst, he could tell.
What he hadn’t counted on, however, was that not eating anything that day would come back to bite him in the ass.
He jumped to his feet to throw a pitch to second-base during a game against the second-string players but immediately felt woozy. His head spun and before he could release the ball he was collapsing against the rough ground.
He wasn’t sure exactly how long he was unconscious, but once he opened his eyes again he was surrounded by the first string players who all looked at him with dread. To reiterate, it was the absolute worst day of his life.
Kuramochi was the closest to his face, his mask having been knocked off in his collision with the ground.
“Miyuki,” he whispered. “Are you--”
“I’m fine,” Miyuki assured, trying to make them leave, trying to get them to stop making those faces.
“You should go sit down, or at least--”
“I’m fine!” Miyuki cut the shortstop off again, feeling his metaphorical mask slipping as well. Not now, not here. He needed them to leave him alone, he needed to collect his thoughts without their prying eyes, he had to--
It was too late. He felt his bottom lip tremble as his eyes locked with Kuramochi’s. He could feel the harsh sting of tears, and he knew Kuramochi could see it, too, by the way he recoiled and shoved the other players away from the catcher.
“Abort, abort, abort, go back to your positions! He’s fine! Give him some room, will ya?”
Fuck , he thought. Crying was the absolute last thing he needed right now, and later he was sure he would be furious at his stupid emotions and hormones for getting in his way.
He pulled his knees up and pressed his face against them, taking a couple deep breaths before steeling himself and discreetly wiping his eyes against his sleeves before standing again, slower this time.
“Miyuki,” Coach Kataoka called before the catcher to move back into position and continue the game. Kataoka nodded toward the second practice field and Miyuki begrudgingly followed behind the tall man.
They walked in silence toward the second field and Miyuki felt his stomach ache and roil with every step, though the migraine was lessening. “What’s going on?” he asked, though he could guess.
Miyuki shrugged, using the movement to adjust his sport-binder, trying to make it less irritating.
“Nothing, Coach. I’m fine,” he said. He really didn’t want people fussing over him, especially when this happened regularly. Kataoka wasn’t having any of Miyuki’s deflection, though.
“Miyuki,” he said, tone commanding and forcing a frown on Miyuki’s face.
“It’s not anything anyone can fix right now, Coach. And I’d rather not go into great detail about it, either.”
By this point, Kataoka was fairly certain he understood Miyuki’s condition. Regardless, he made the captain go back to his dorm and rest, much to Miyuki’s utter distaste. There wasn’t a lot of time left for practice, but still.
Miyuki dragged himself into his blissfully vacant dorm and remembered that he had yet to change his sheets. With a heavy sigh he threw his sweaty clothes into his laundry bin and pulled on soft clothing that wouldn’t irritate his skin. He slipped on his binder and pulled his shirt down before half-heartedly stretching a new set of sheets across the bed. He flopped face-first into the bed and tugged his blanket over himself.
His migraine slowly ebbed away and before long the only thing plaguing him were cramps. He occasionally whimpered into his pillow even after Koushuu returned and stared at him in utter shock.
Miyuki sort of understood. Many of the first-years were hardly aware of him being a transman and much less understood what that meant since he had not chosen the hormone therapy route. The staring was still unnecessary, he thought.
__
Eijun checked over the items in his hands before nodding and smiling as he knocked on Miyuki’s door.
Koushuu swung it open and stared at Eijun with wide eyes.
“Thank god, senpai,” he muttered before pushing Eijun into the room and closing the door behind himself as he fled. Eijun frowned before he heard Miyuki groan from his bunk. Seeing the pitiful lump that was his boyfriend, Eijun hummed and sat on the bed beside him.
The pitcher reached out to rub Miyuki’s back soothingly.
“I brought your favorite American pizza, and some fudge that Wakana just sent us,” he began with a soft smile when Miyuki peeked at him over his shoulder. “I also have that blanket you like, the video from our next opponent’s last game, and a heating pad.”
“You’re my favorite,” Miyuki mumbled as he leaned up to peck Eijun’s lips. The second-year grinned against his boyfriend’s lips and deepened the kiss.
“I know,” he teased before standing to adjust the television in the room to face Miyuki’s bed and setting the DVD inside the player above the display. He turned back around and found Miyuki wrapped in the blanket with the heating pad plugged in and resting on his lower stomach.
A slice of pizza was already half-eaten in his hand when he glanced up and grinned. Eijun rolled his eyes and forced his way into Miyuki’s cocoon and settled himself behind his boyfriend with his arms wrapped around his stomach.
“I heard you were more unbearable than usual today,” Eijun hummed against Miyuki’s neck as he turned on the DVD. The catcher just shrugged and mumbled something around his food. “Is this one worse than usual? Maybe you should skip practice tomorrow and rest.”
Miyuki shrugged again, pushing his glasses up his nose to buy himself another second to gather his thoughts.
“I ran out of Midol,” he grumbled. “And I had a migraine for most of practice. I’ll be okay, promise.” Eijun frowned as he held his boyfriend tighter to his body.
“Do you want me to turn off the lights? We can watch the video later if your head still hurts.”
“No, I’m okay now,” Miyuki said with a rare genuine smile.
“Kuramochi-senpai seemed really worried about you, y’know. He said you collapsed today,” Eijun whispered, holding Miyuki closer as he pressed his face to the older boy’s shoulder.
“Ah right…” Miyuki mumbled. “I may have almost cried in front of him, and I didn’t really eat anything today, so that’s mostly why that happened.”
“What? Why didn’t you eat? You know you have to eat to keep your body healthy, Kazuya!” Miyuki flinched at the loudness and shrunk down, trying to hide his face from the pitcher.
“I know that, I just...I felt sick all day because of the migraine and the cramping and I just knew that if I ate then I wouldn’t be able to keep any of it down.”
Eijun pouted as he reached under the heating pad to rub soft circles over Miyuki’s stomach. The pitcher noted that the skin seemed puffy and that there were small grooves dug into the soft flesh but decided not to mention it. It was probably embarrassing enough for the older teen without having to talk about bloating.
“You’re sure you’re okay now? The food I brought is really greasy, if you still feel sick I can get some rice from the dining hall.”
“No, I’m really okay now. I’m starving , actually. You came just in time,” Miyuki said, feeling warm comfort as Eijun rubbed his stomach.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Eijun exclaimed as he dug around his pocket for a moment and produced a little bottle, handing it to the older teen. “I thought you might have run out of it, so I picked some up at the hospital gift shop!”
“They sold Midol in the gift shop?”
“Hey, don’t sound so snippy, it turned out to be a great gift just now!”
“Hmm, you’re right for once. Thank you, Eijun.”
The pitcher preened at his boyfriend’s words, ignoring the backhanded compliment as he nodded and leaned in to press a kiss to the catcher’s cheek.
“You’re welcome, Kazuya!”
Miyuki relaxed into the younger teen’s chest as the evening progressed, slowly melting against him as his eyes drooped and the heating pad radiated a soothing heat through his body. He sighed.
“I’m thinking of starting T after summer.”
“You are?” Miyuki just nodded, staring intently at the fudge square in his hand. “Then I’ll support in every way I can! I think you should do whatever will make you comfortable in your body.”
“Thanks...Eijun,” he whispered, relaxing against the pitcher’s chest once again and letting his eyes lose focus and grow heavy.
“Do you want to take off your binder? I can leave if you’re going to sleep.”
Miyuki chuckled and held tighter to Eijun’s hands that were wrapped around the catcher’s middle.
“It’s okay. You can stay,” Miyuki whispered. He leaned up and sleepily unhooked his binder before tossing it into his laundry bin. He pulled his shirt back down and flopped onto Eijun’s chest again, causally linking their hands as he locked his eyes on the DVD again. Eijun was completely floored as he stared at the back of his boyfriend’s head. This was completely new.
“Kazuya, are you sure ?”
“Obviously, bakamura, I just said it was, right?”
“I...yeah, but--”
Miyuki turned to glare at his boyfriend heatedly, daring him to argue. “You’ve never been comfortable with it before,” Eijun finished with a whisper. Miyuki was about to argue that that was completely untrue until he couldn’t think of an example.
“We’ve been dating for half a year and I’ve never…?”
Eijun shook his head with a shrug.
“Six months isn’t that long. Plus we’ve been busy with tournaments until pretty recently,” he reasoned. Miyuki wanted to shake his head because it wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with Eijun, right? Or was he? Was he afraid?
A cold, shaking fear shot down Miyuki’s spine as he realized just how afraid he really was. What if Eijun realized just how nasty he was, or how complicated his situation really was? What if he left?
Before Eijun even knew what was happening, Kazuya’s hands were covering his face and his shoulders were trembling just the slightest bit. “Kazuya?” he asked, voice trembling slightly, fearing that he had upset the other teen.
“I-I haven’t let you touch me for months because I’m terrified that you-you’ll hate me after you understand how difficult I am to deal with. I didn’t even realize until--”
“Hey, hey, why are you getting so worked up?” Eijun whispered, pulling Miyuki into his arms again and resting his chin on the top of the other boy’s head. His hand gently rubbed Miyuki’s back, noting how strange it was to feel without his binder.
“I’m sorry, I-I’m not a good boyfriend.”
“Why would you say that?” Eijun asked harshly, pulling away to stare at Miyuki’s splotchy face.
“I’m mean and sarcastic, I’m bad with PDA, I never let you touch me outside of kissing and cuddling, I--”
“Stop right there, Miyuki Kazuya. You are mean, and you are sarcastic, but you’re not obligated to let me touch you at all. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, and I know that it’ll be hard for you to be comfortable, okay? I’m okay with waiting. If you’re never comfortable, that’s okay, too, you know.”
“But we’re dating,” Miyuki whispered, hand gripping Eijun’s shirt, feeling more vulnerable than he had in years. Eijun’s arms gripped him painfully tightly for a second before he pressed a kiss to Kazuya’s forehead.
“Dating someone doesn’t give them the right to touch you without your permission, Kazuya. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, either. God , Kazuya, I’m sorry you thought you had to do so many things that made you uncomfortable.”
Miyuki sniffled but didn’t respond as he held Eijun’s arms, suddenly very aware that they were chest to chest and he didn’t have his binder on.
“I could never hate you, Kazuya,” Eijun whispered, making the older teen glance up. “You’re mean and sarcastic because you hate letting people in, but that’s just how you are. When we started dating I already knew that you’re trans, I knew what it means, so there’s no way I’m suddenly gonna think this relationship is too difficult. You don’t have to worry.”
“Just because you tell me not to doesn’t mean I won’t,” Miyuki mumbled. Eijun didn’t seem to notice their chests touching at all, which made Miyuki feel slightly more comfortable. Eijun rolled his eyes and sighed.
“Well if you start to worry again, tell me, okay? I don’t want you to build up all these emotions again.” Eijun reached out to wipe Miyuki’s eyes under his glasses and smiled. “You can talk to me about anything, I won’t judge you.”
“Who would have thought such a baseball idiot could be so good at relationships,” Miyuki mused, making Eijun’s cheeks puff up as his eyes narrowed.
“Hey!” he said, wrestling Miyuki’s back against his chest again and grumbling as he rearranged the heating pad. “Just watch the dumb video, Bakazuya . I don’t wanna see your face anymore.”
Miyuki laughed loudly again, leaning his head back and tugging Eijun’s down to meet in an upside-down kiss.
The two settled down to continue watching their next opponent's game silently.
After the video cut off, Miyuki could feel exhaustion tug at his mind. Before he could relax, though, a thought occurred to him.
“Your ankle!” he said, sitting up and staring at Eijun intensely. Eijun was about to explain when he took in the sight of his boyfriend and froze. His hair was disheveled and his glasses were askew on his face, eyes wide behind them. One of his sleeves was rolled up to his shoulder and the other was hanging down his arm. His sweatpants were sagging weakly and low on his hips and his entire outfit was wrinkled. In a word, he was adorable. “Sa~wa~mu~ra~!” he chimed, pulling Eijun’s attention to his eyes again.
“What?”
“What are you staring at?” Miyuki asked, fixing his glasses.
“Um!” Eijun answered intelligently, face reddening as he rubbed at the back of his head and tried to laugh it off.
“What is it?” Miyuki asked, crawling closer and situating his knees between Eijun’s legs.
“Fuck,” Eijun whispered flopping his head onto the catcher’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist.
“Uh--!”
“You’re so cute it’s stupid,” he said, making Miyuki freeze. “And also annoying,” he amended. Miyuki rolled his eyes.
“ Anyway ,” he began, pushing on Eijun’s shoulders. “Your ankle, is it okay?”
“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine, it was just a scare!”
“Good,” Miyuki nodded. He glanced around for a second and hitched his shoulders up slightly. “I do...want you stay, though.”
“Really?”
“ Yes .”
Eijun’s eyes lit up like the sun as he linked his fingers around Miyuki’s waist. “But don’t make it weird.”
“OSHI!"
Miyuki flinched at the noise and tapped the pitcher on the head.
“Quiet down, idiot. Let’s clean up and go to bed.”
“Oshi,” Eijun practically whispered, making Miyuki laugh as he pushed the food into the tiny fridge on the other side of the room. Eijun was setting the heating pad to turn off after two hours and setting up the blankets and pillows when Miyuki turned around. He smiled fondly, walking back to the bed and crawling into the spot Eijun designated for him.
“Do you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?” Eijun asked, eyes as intense as when he’s about to throw his best pitch. Miyuki would admit that it was a little endearing.
“Does it really matter?”
Eijun nodded his head seriously, leaning in and waiting for Miyuki’s response. “Uh, I guess I’ll be the little spoon this time.”
“Excellent choice, Senpai!” Eijun hollered. Miyuki stared at him.
“You would have said that no matter which one I chose, wouldn’t you?”
The pitcher laughed obnoxiously.
“You got me!"
“Just lay down.”
Eijun nodded and flopped down behind Miyuki, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling the blankets over them again. Miyuki adjusted the heating pad as he reached out to take one of the Midol before laying back down. He heard quiet typing behind him and glared over his shoulder, glasses discarded and making it hard to make out what he was seeing. “What are you doing now?”
“I’m telling Koushuu-kun that it’s safe to come back.”
“It’s not like I was going to hurt him.”
“Sure, but he doesn’t know that. And besides, I think it was the complaining he was trying to get away from,” Eijun teased. Miyuki pouted.
“None of you know how annoying periods are,” he said into his pillow. Eijun laughed, nuzzling the back of Miyuki’s neck.
“You’re right, but that’s what makes you so great. Usually, no one even notices . If what Wakana told me about them is true then you’re definitely incredible. But I already knew that.”
“ Flatterer ,” Miyuki mumbled.