Work Text:
Kazuya has worked with plenty of difficult teammates; egotistical pitchers, basemen who didn’t want to take his directions, outfielders who didn’t take their jobs seriously and he’s handled them all easily, or at least he hasn’t been beat up for a long time but this…this isn’t something he was prepared for, an inexperienced alpha joining the team, all quietly commanding energy that has Kazuya crouching for longer and longer for extra practices.
If it was anyone else but Furuya, earnest and straightforward Furuya, Kazuya would think they were taking advantage of their position over him but Furuya doesn’t have a cunning bone in his body. Kazuya finds him to be green in both pitching, although certainly packed full of raw untapped talent, and being an alpha.
Pitching control he starts to learn quickly but even after months at Seidou he still doesn’t have any better control over projecting his pheromones. At this point Kazuya thinks he’s completely unaware he’s doing it and on a team comprised mostly of betas who also seem unware of it Kazuya doesn’t really have cause to bring it up. Even if he did have a reason to bring it up it would be defying more social conventions than even he’s used to; an omega telling an alpha how to behave. Sometimes Furuya’s projecting does seem to reach the rest of the team, or at least Kazuya thinks so, he’s even started to find it comforting.
Mine, he’s constantly saying silently. My team, my teammates, my pack.
It does seem to promote a sense of companionship at times, and the occasional agitation in Sawamura who wants to challenge him. Kazuya wonders if Sawamura picked up on any of Furuya’s exhilarated packmate, packmate, packmate while they were running together if he’d be quite as forceful with Furuya sometimes.
The only ones who could possibly be bothered are Yuuki, the only alpha remaining on the team after Azuma’s graduation, and Kawakami, the only other omega on the team but both of them seem totally fine with Furuya; Yuuki’s retirement producing distress pheromones from the unmentored alpha.
Furuya’s complete ignorance over what he’s doing keep Kazuya from bringing it up. It’s not hurting anyone, he tells himself, even if the alpha has been following him around more than usual, and not always to ask for pitching. Sometimes it’s a quiet “will you help me with my nails please, Miyuki-senpai?” that has him in Furuya’s room, concentrating on the smell of the nail polish with all his might.
There’s still plenty of catching he asks for, and Kazuya can’t seem to say no; not when he looks at him like that. It’s why he finds himself in the indoor practice grounds again after dark.
“Shouldn’t you be careful?”
He hears the scrape of Kuramochi’s desk chair as he pulls it up to sit across from Kazuya at his desk in his memory.
“He’s an alpha and a pitcher; don’t pretend you don’t have a thing for pitchers Miyuki.”
Kazuya had laughed it off that afternoon but now, alone with Furuya coming closer to him and his feet rooted to the spot he wonders if maybe he should have been more careful.
“Miyuki-senpai,” Furuya stares into his eyes and the guileless way he opens and closes his mouth, clenching and unclenching his fists keep Kazuya from being scared.
It’s still Furuya, he tells himself, even if he’s coming up on his heat.
“I…” Furuya frowns a little, waves of confusion and desire rolling off of him.
Kazuya wonders if he smells the same as Furuya steps closer, taking hold of Kazuya’s hands and interlacing their fingers, their wrists pressed against each other. He turns his head a little instinctively even if his heart is pounding so Furuya can rub his cheek against Kazuya’s.
He’s never done this, he’s sure Furuya hasn’t either, exchanging scents like this. It feels warm, comforting, Furuya’s skin soft and young against his. He lets his eyes close, breathing in the smell that’s distinctly Furuya, tasting it on his tongue and finding he likes it.
His eyes fly open and he tenses as he feels hot breath on his neck, jerking away in terror when he feels a bit of wetness follow on his skin.
“I’m sorry,” Furuya says, covering his mouth with his hand. He stares at Kazuya with wide eyes. “I’m sorry Miyuki-senpai. You smelled so good; I just wanted to taste too. I shouldn’t have…I’ll go now.”
Kazuya grabs his arm before he can turn, his heart still pounding and his skin still tingling.
“Wait,” he says, voice foreign to him as he pulls Furuya back, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Come here.”
He takes one of Furuya’s hands as he had them before, wrists pressed together, his other hand going to the back of Furuya’s head and guiding their cheeks back together, stroking Furuya’s hair until the scent of distress is gone and Kazuya feels calmer. He rubs against Furuya, knowing this would look just as silly as it looks intimate if someone caught them.
Before he releases Furuya’s head he nuzzles Furuya’s neck, delivering one brief lick and stepping away, meeting Furuya’s burning eyes.
“You should go now,” Kazuya says, trying his best to grin playfully and reign in his pheromones, keeping his gaze on Furuya’s face.
Furuya nods, breathing hard and placing a hand on his cheek as he leaves Kazuya standing on locked legs.
“Does he even know he’s courting you?” Kuramochi asks, stepping out from the shadow of the doorway and unfreezing Kazuya.
“I’m sure he’ll figure it out, if he hasn’t already,” Kazuya grins easier, snickering like his heartbeat isn’t in his throat.