Work Text:
Takigawa pulled his pants up over his hips before he answered his phone, putting it on speaker so that he could finish tucking in his jersey, “Moshi, moshi.”
“Hey, hotstuff, whatcha wearing?”
Noguchi looked up at that. How could he not? That would have caught the attention of anyone who knew anything about Takigawa Chris Yuu. Even Noguchi, who was relatively new to the Majors, knew Takigawa’s reputation. The man was known for being irreproachable both on and off the field. His flawless reputation had joking earned him the title of Saint.
And there was someone on the phone blatantly hitting on him.
Takigawa shook his head as he buttoned his jersey. “My uniform.”
“Kinky.”
And Noguchi felt his eyes go wide as Takigawa smiled and replied, “Only the best for you, sweetheart.”
“Sweet talk will get you nowhere.”
“Good thing I’m more than just talk,” shot back Takigawa.
Noguchi looked around to see if anyone else was hearing this because he was pretty sure he was hallucinating.
The voice on the line laughed. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Takigawa laughed. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Later!” replied the voice cheerfully.
Takigawa hung up and finished getting dressed as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
“Who was that?” asked Noguchi.
He was being rude. Especially since he had met Takigawa like an hour ago and Noguchi was new and Takigawa was a well respected veteran of the game. It was hardly any of his business. And Takigawa would be within his right to tell him to ‘fuck off’. Very Politely, Noguchi assumed.
Fortunately Takigawa didn’t seem to care. He didn’t even look up from tying his shoes. “Oh. That was Miyuki.”
His tone was so casual that Noguchi started nodding before the actual words caught up to him.
“Wait,” said Noguchi. “Miyuki? MIYUKI KAZUYA!”
Takigawa smiled back at him. “Do you know another Miyuki?”
“No! Do you?”
Takigawa made a sound that Noguchi realized was him trying not to laugh. “No, I don’t.”
“But...I...what?” said Noguchi. “How long have you two been dating?”
Takigawa really did laugh then. “We’re not.”
“But…? That...what?”
Takigawa seemed indifferent to Noguchi’s incoherent sputtering. “That’s just how Miyuki is.”
And Noguchi guessed that was...an explanation. He had never met Miyuki Kazuya, but much like Takigawa his reputation preceded him. A polarizing figure on and off the field. He was loved and hated, feared and respected. Unafraid to say and do whatever was necessary for victory.
If Takigawa Chris Yuu was considered a Saint, then Miyuki Kazuya was a Demon.
And they apparently shamelessly flirted with each other.
Takigawa snagged his batting gloves off of his locker shelf and stuffed them into his back pocket. He gave Noguchi a courteous nod before he walked out of the locker room.
The door closed behind Takigawa and the room exploded into laughter. Noguchi looked around somehow even more confused.
Sanada Shunpei clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry we didn’t warn you, kid, but the look on your face was priceless.”
“So, this...this is like...a thing?”
“Yes,” confirmed basically everyone left in the locker room.
“At least they’re in different leagues now,” said Sanada. “For a couple of All Star Games they both played in the Central league. They were insufferable.”
“So, they’re really not dating?”
“No,” groaned the room.
—
Chris walked up to the plate with a, “Honey, I’m home,” as his greeting.
Because Chris was cheesy as hell and liked to say the same English phrase every time he was back at Meiji Jingu Stadium.
And just like every time before Miyuki responded with, “Okaeri.”
Kubo, the home plate umpire, let out a loud put upon sigh. “Are you two still not dating?”
“You’d be the first to know,” replied Miyuki.
Even behind his mask, Miyuki could see Kubo roll his eyes. “Please don’t let that be true.”
Chris smiled as he stepped into the box. “Want an invite to the wedding?”
Kubo snorted. “That going to happen before I die?”
Miyuki laughed as he settled into the crouch.
—
Miyuki could remember the exact moment the joke started. He couldn’t remember exactly what they had been talking about. The conversation had been about something mundane like where they wanted to eat dinner.
And Miyuki had sarcastically said to Chris, “Whatever you want, dear.”
And Chris, without missing a beat, had responded with, “Thanks, babe.”
And it kind of...spiraled from there...
For the past seven years.
—
Apparently it was a tradition for someone to rent out a restaurant for late night snacks and drinks after the All Star Game. Noguchi was invited...more or less. What Sanada actually said was, “Come suffer with us.”
And it didn’t take Noguchi long to realize what everyone was talking about. If he thought Takigawa and Miyuki were flirty on the phone or on the field, it was nothing compared to when they were together.
During the game Takigawa and Miyuki had leaned up against the dugout railings communicating across the field somehow in a language of gestures that only the two of them could understand.
They did a version of it while at the restaurant. Small shakes of the head, meaningful looks, half shrugs, rolled eyes, smiles hidden behind glasses of beer. Even while surrounded by a crowd, sitting at opposite ends of the table, they still managed to make it feel as if they were the only two people in the room.
It was all very...puzzling. And Noguchi probably spent more time than he should have contemplating it.
By the end of the night Takigawa and Miyuki had drifted towards each other. Finding a corner where they could lean into each other’s space. They were so close that all Takigawa had to do was turn his head in order to say something into Miyuki’s ear. Something that made Miyuki laugh.
Sanada gestured with his beer at the two of them. Not even bothering to be subtle about it. It wasn’t like either of them noticed anyway.
“See? Insufferable.”
Noguchi nodded absently. And he knew that they weren’t really dating, but it was kind of a shame.
—
Miyuki knew the exact moment it stopped being a joke.
Five years ago the guy he had been dating had gotten jealous and told him to stop. Miyuki had laughed it off as a joke. Except his boyfriend hadn’t found it so funny. He told him to choose—him or Chris. It turned out he had every right to be upset.
Miyuki chose Chris before he even finished his sentence.
He stormed out and Miyuki watched him go.
It suddenly occurred to him that he would choose Chris above anyone else.
Every time.
So he stopped dating and started flirting for real. Except the problem with fake flirting with your friend meant they didn’t notice when you started doing it for real.
The other problem with fake flirting with your friend was realizing that said friend was apparently impervious to your charms.
And had been. For years.
And Miyuki was well aware that he had charm. When he chose to use it. And most of the time he chose to use it on Chris.
Even if it was a waste.
—
Sawamura wasn’t pitching today.
He was put in as a pinch hitter in the eighth inning and Chris was both proud—and exasperated that he took full advantage of the opportunity.
“Are you still not dating Miyuki-senpai?” asked Sawamura by way of greeting.
“Hi, Sawamura,” said Chris before he settled back into the crouch. “It’s good to see you too.”
“It’s been forever!” continued Sawamura as he took a couple of practice swings. “What are you waiting for?”
“He has a point, Takigawa,” grumbled Kubo from over Chris’ shoulder.
“See! Even Kubo-san agrees.” Sawamura stepped into the box and Chris thought that was that. Except Sawamura quickly tacked on, “What are you so afraid of?”
And Chris was forced to consider that maybe Sawamura had a point.
And not just because he managed to hit a decent single down the third baseline.
—
Chris knew the exact moment it stopped being a joke.
He had been standing in the small reception hall that Masuko’s family had rented for his wedding. Chris had let himself be bullied into downing a few cups of sake from one of Masuko’s elderly aunts and was feeling pleasantly fuzzy. Masuko looked just about as happy as anyone could be. He had silently and stoically cried through most of his actual wedding ceremony.
It was sweet.
Jun and Tetsu had shown up to the wedding together—surprising no one. And Tanba had shown up with a date—surprising everyone. She was tiny and shy and apparently had the ability to make Tanba a stumbling, blushing mess. They all teased him mercilessly as soon as she was out of earshot.
Chris had only been able to make it to the wedding because his team had gotten knocked out of the playoffs so early.
Really he should have been in Hiroshima.
Playing against Miyuki.
—
Yamamoto had not wanted this assignment.
She had not worked so hard for so long just to get stuck writing a fluff entertainment piece. And it didn’t get much fluffier than ‘Most Eligible Bachelors in Baseball’.
Yamamoto cursed herself for thinking being assigned to sports would be a good opportunity. It wasn’t the hard hitting journalism that she had aspired to write in college, but at least it wasn’t languishing in the classifieds like she had as an intern. And she had always liked sports—
And she was a professional, damnit!
And in the end, really, it hadn’t been that bad.
Yamamoto tried to approach the assignment more like a profile piece and less like filling out a dating profile. She’d like to think that the players appreciated her more tactful approach.
And it wasn’t a bad thing that Yamamoto got to practice her interviewing skills. Especially since baseball apparently attracted all types of players.
Sanada Shunpei who was so effortlessly charming Yamamoto didn’t think he even realized that he was charming.
Sawamura Eijun who was loud about everything—baseball, the weather, the pros and cons of natto (?), sumo wrestling (?), fishing (?), catching bugs (?) and embarrassingly enough about how well Yamamoto was doing.
Narumiya Mei who was a brat trying to disguise himself as a charmer. He was pretty good at it too, but he reminded Yamamoto too much of her own younger brother for him to fool her.
And then there was Takigawa Chris Yuu and Miyuki Kazuya.
And…honestly…Yamamoto didn’t know what to make of those two.
They were both pleasant enough to interview. Takigawa was better at pretending that this whole thing wasn’t a waste of time. Miyuki not so much. But even then he dutifully answered her questions and occasionally asked his own. So not rude, just really, really bored.
There were twenty players in total and they had all played for enough years that they all seemed to more or less know each other.
Even in a familiar crowd, Takigawa and Miyuki seemed to naturally shift towards one another.
When Sawamura started to ramble about a movie he had watched. They shot each other matching sceptical glances. To be fair, it did seem like Sawamura wasn’t incredibly accurate with his retelling of the plot.
A couple of times they finished each other’s sentences. Once Takigawa made Miyuki laugh—the sound completely different from the controlled (and fake) laugh he had been using before.
And at one point, Miyuki took the paper cup from Takigawa’s hand and finished whatever it was he had been drinking before going to refill it and handing it back to him—all the while Takigawa hadn’t even paused in his conversation with Sanada about their last game.
It wasn’t at all relevant to the article Yamamoto was writing.
But as she sat at her computer later that day…
Yamamoto couldn’t help but wonder if Takigawa and Miyuki actually qualified as ‘bachelors’.
—
Chris had always found these kind of articles bemusing…and a little bit funny.
Miyuki on the other hand…
He could talk for hours about strategy and pitch sequences and training regiments and the strengths and weaknesses of probably almost every starting player in the NPB.
But ask him the simple question of: “What’s your ideal date like?”
And Miyuki would struggle to put five coherent words together.
And normally Chris would have taken the opportunity to tease the hell out of him for it, but this time around he simply asked, “You want to get some dinner?”
And he knew it was the right thing to say because Miyuki let out a long sigh.
“Yes, please.”
—
It didn’t happen very often.
It happened even less nowadays—what with Miyuki’s huge Pocari Sweat ad plastered on what seemed like every digital billboard in Tokyo—but sometimes they would walk into a restaurant or a bar and it would be obvious that no one knew who they were.
There would be none of the obvious signs. The slight widening of eyes. The flustered bows. The determination to not make it a big deal. The casual but nervous request for an autograph after they had paid their bill.
This time when they walked into the restaurant—they were greeted with nothing but polite customer service. And Chris watched the subtle tension bleed out of Miyuki’s shoulders. Miyuki had gotten better at being famous, but he would probably never be comfortable with it.
They still took the corner booth that was a little tucked away from the rest of the restaurant.
And it was nice.
Right up until their server said, “You’re such a cute couple.”
Chris almost choked on his beer. Because they had been having a pretty normal dinner. There hadn’t been any obnoxious flirting. They hadn’t even been joking about it. They had just been sitting there enjoying each other’s company and—
Miyuki shot him a sly smile from across the table and turned towards their waiter and said, “Oh, thank you. We’re High School sweethearts.”
And Chris resisted burying his face in his hands—
“Actually,” continued Miyuki. “Today is our anniversary!”
Chris pulled his foot back in order to kick Miyuki under the table and somehow Miyuki must have known because he quickly reached out and interlaced their fingers and smiled at him and…well…damn…
They got a free dessert out of it.
“I can’t believe you,” muttered Chris even as he picked up his fork.
Miyuki just cackled—and pushed the slice of chocolate cake across the table towards Chris because Chris knew Miyuki didn’t really care for sweets and Miyuki knew that Chris did.
Chris stabbed the cake—
And considered that maybe they really had been kind of dating all this time afterall.
—
“Hey, handsome.”
Hata couldn’t help it—he let out an exasperated groan. “I hate playing against Takigawa.”
There was the faint sound of laughter and Hata had forgotten that, for whatever reason, Miyuki liked to have his flirty phone calls with Takigawa on speaker phone.
“Hi, Hata-san,” called Takigawa, clearly amused. “The feeling is mutual.”
“I doubt that,” grumbled Hata. He would be on the bench tonight. It had been a few seasons since he had been considered the Ace. It was still nice of Takigawa to say—he would give him that. “Hey, do me a favor and let Miyuki distract you with his terrible flirting.”
Miyuki barked out a laugh. “Excuse me? My flirting isn’t terrible!”
“It’s pretty terrible,” agreed Takigawa.
It had been years and Hata still didn’t really understand this strange back and forth between Miyuki and Takigawa. When he had first met Miyuki he had blown up at him and demanded answers. Why wasn’t he taking this seriously? Was everything a joke to him?
Except Miyuki hadn’t backed down. Instead, he had simply scoffed and said, “Watch me.”
So Hata watched him.
He watched Miyuki play with a desperation usually only reserved for crucial games—games that would determine who would make it into the playoffs, games that would determine who would win the Series.
In all honesty, early in the season, there really wasn’t a need to win or lose yet.
And yet…
Hata watched as Miyuki dove head first towards the backstop—
The tips of his glove barely closing around the baseball. Miyuki held it up above his head as he lay still sprawled in the dirt.
After the game, Hata just had one more question—
“Why?”
Miyuki had been in the middle of peeling out of his catcher’s gear. He looked up at him and then laughed as if the answer was obvious.
“It’s Chris-senpai.”
And Hata was forced to admit…
They brought out the best in each other.
It really was as simple as that.
—
The national anthem ended and Chris hesitated before putting his hat back on.
He looked out across the field.
And from the otherside of the diamond—
Miyuki looked back at him.
—
“Honey, I’m home,” said Chris as he walked up to the plate.
Even from behind his catcher’s mask he could tell Miyuki was smiling back at him. “Okaeri.”
“Do you have plans after this?” asked Chris as he took his practice swings.
Miyuki smirked back at him. “Why? Are you asking?”
“Yeah.” Chris stepped into the box. “I am.”
Chris could see the moment Miyuki thought about it. When he considered continuing their little game and saying something clever in return.
Instead, Miyuki tossed back the baseball and said before settling back into the crouch, “Sure.”
And Chris couldn’t be sure but he was pretty sure he heard Kubo mutter, “Finally.”
He wasn’t really paying attention anymore.
Chris was too busy watching the pitcher set—and then throw—
A hanging curve.
He sent the ball flying—
—
Miyuki grimaced as soon as he heard the sharp crack of the bat. He rose to his feet—shoving his face mask up—as he watched the baseball sail over the right field fence.
He let out a huff of a laugh as he watched Chris round the bases. Chris might have just cost Miyuki the game, but at the moment he couldn’t bring himself to be too upset about it.
Not when it felt like he had already won.
Miyuki glanced back at Kubo and grinned. “That’s my man.”
Kubo let out a surprised laugh. “Yeah. No shit.”
—
The thing was…nothing was different.
They still ended up at their usual bar. Wearing what they usually wore after a game.
Chris looked pleasantly tired. His hair was still a little damp. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. Looking loose and relaxed as he leaned against the bar.
They ordered their usual drinks and talked about all of the usual things—except at some point Miyuki reached out and took Chris’ hand. For once, he let his touch linger. He explored the calluses on his palm and mapped every one of his fingers. He let himself fully feel the strength coiled there.
And eventually Miyuki had to ask,
“What changed?”
“Nothing really.” Chris shrugged. His own fingertips had started to wander. Eventually settling over the pulse point on Miyuki’s wrist. “That’s the point, I guess.”
“Is that right, sweetheart?”
This time when Chris smiled back at him it was slow…and pleased. “Sure, honey.”
And Miyuki wondered if Chris could feel it—the way his heart rate jumped at that.
And despite nothing changing between them…
It was obvious that something had.
—
Hata hadn’t even realized that Miyuki had gotten a phone call.
Not until he said, “Moshi moshi.”
Hata had been expecting the usual phone call from Takigawa. It was practically a pre-game ritual whenever they faced off against one another. Hata had been bracing himself for their conversation to be somehow worse considering that it was the playoffs.
But Miyuki hadn’t put this phone call on speaker. Instead, he cradled the phone to his ear. Bowing his head as if trying to hide—
And Hata did a double take because Miyuki was smiling in a way that he had never seen before. Usually Miyuki’s smiles couldn’t completely hide all of his sharp angles. It was intimidating…and reassuring to see the razor edge of his focus and drive.
Hata had no idea what to make of Miyuki Kazuya looking so…soft and…content?
Miyuki hummed. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you later.”
He hung up and put his phone back into his locker and nothing seemed wrong, but Hata still found himself asking, “Is everything okay?”
And Miyuki turned—and by the time he was facing Hata his usual smirk was in place. He clapped Hata on the shoulder.
“Wow, Hata-san. I didn’t know you cared.”
Hata sputtered and Miyuki cackled as he headed out of the locker room.
—
The atmosphere in the Meiji Jingu Stadium was electric. Thirty-thousand people yelling, screaming, cheering. The air was heavy with their hopes and dreams and desperation.
And through it all Miyuki could clearly hear Chris when he stepped up to the plate and said—
“Hi, honey.”
And Miyuki smiled up at him—
“Welcome home, sweetheart.”