Chapter Text
“…yasu? …Okuyasu? ...Okuyasu!”
Okuyasu awoke from his daydreams to the sight of a very concerned-looking, very short blond in his face. His eyes widened when he realized that his friend had probably been trying to snap him out of it for a while, and he simply hadn’t noticed. Oops.
“Eh!? Koichi! Whats uh… What’s up!?” He asked, trying to brush off how long it must have taken him to respond, and how embarrassed he should probably be after spacing out so badly just before practice.
“Are you okay? You looked pretty out of it there… You’re not getting heat stroke or anything, are you?”
The concerned look on Koichi’s face didn’t budge. Okuyasu almost wanted to tear up at how sweet the kid was—checking up on him and making sure he was okay and everything. He was a good friend like that—a better friend than Okuyasu had ever had before. Really, he was extremely grateful, but there was no way in hell he was going to get all mushy and talk about his feelings right now.
“I-It’s just… Uh… Don’t you ever, wish you could be one’a them? Like, if I was a football player, I’d be swimming in chicks! And we could get in on all that football cash when we graduate! Man, we’d be set for life!” He grinned, seeing that worried look melt into a relieved smile and a laugh.
“Don’t worry about things like that, Okuyasu! We’re doing our own good things here! Besides, I think I’m just fine in band. Can you imagine what they’d do to me out there…?” Koichi pressed his knuckles to his lips nervously, glancing out at the football team as they began to disperse from the field. Really, he wasn’t wrong—a kid his size would get pummeled to bits in a matter of seconds. “Anyway, come on, we should go set up now that they’re wrapping up.”
Okuyasu nodded at his favorite little drum major and stood up, grateful for the change in position after sitting in a pool of his own sweat for so long. He supposed he probably didn’t have to be out here the whole time waiting for football practice to finish up, but where else was he supposed to be? Finishing up his homework indoors? Not him.
It didn’t take long for his eyes to direct themselves back to the football team as they made their way off of the field. He couldn’t help but be surprised at how well his little lie held up. As much as football might suit someone like him—strong, short-tempered, not too bright—there was only one daydream that was captivating enough to hold his thoughts away from the heat and the boredom of waiting around at least an hour for band practice to start. Three little syllables that never failed to make his stomach do backflips and made his legs feel like strawberry Jell-O.
Jo-Su-Ke.
Now, Okuyasu had never been the type to consider himself gay before. With how much of a one-track mind he donned when it came to talking about girls, he didn’t think anyone would guess that the only one he really had it bad for was some pretty boy on the football team. As much as getting a girlfriend would be nice, all that talk about swimming in chicks and picking up girls just didn’t feel right. That was probably because there was only one person that came to mind whenever he imagined dating someone.
He really didn’t know when, or how, or why his very, very not-straight feelings for someone so far out of his league started to develop. Maybe it had something to do with how good he looked when he was playing. Being the star quarterback of the football team gave him more than enough chances to show off. No wonder Josuke was like, the most popular kid in school.
He gave orders on the field like they just came naturally to him, like he was a natural leader. He was only probably the second or third most muscular person on the team, but hell if he didn’t look strong as hell when he tackled someone and wrestled them to the ground. And even through all of that, his hair always seemed to be mostly unscathed. Okuyasu really didn’t want to know how much product it must take to manage that, but the extreme amount of care that Josuke so obviously put into his pomp was as impressive as it was cute.
He also couldn’t help but notice how damn curvy Josuke was. It really wasn’t fair, especially given how obvious that stupid uniform made the shape of his body. There those curves were now, right in front of him—that big, warm-looking chest, and that tiny waist, and those wide hips, and that bright, kind smile outshining them all.
Because beyond anything else, Okuyasu admired Josuke because he was nice. Not that he had ever talked to him personally, but he wasn’t stuck-up at all—not like the football players in the after-school specials on TV. Josuke could make friends with anyone, and even though he kept largely to himself for such a popular guy, once or twice Okuyasu had seen him protect younger kids from bullies, or try his hardest not hurt a girl’s feelings when he rejected her with that flattered but apologetic little smile on his face.
He wished he could be friends with someone like that. He wished he could kiss someone like that…
A loud whistle shattered his train of thought. Damn it, he’d spaced out again, hadn’t he!? The dark, looming shadow over him was definitely not a good sign.
“Okuyasu, get in formation.” That intimidating deep voice was enough to make him snap to attention with a terrified “Yes, sir!” and bolt to exactly where he needed to be, cradling his trombone like it was a crying baby.
Mr. Kujo (or just plain Jotaro, as he didn’t mind being called) was a really good director, but damn was he scary—especially to someone like Okuyasu, who was notorious for being late, and not picking things up as quickly, and talking back, and forgetting to practice, and… well, if there was one person in the band who should be scared of Jotaro, it was definitely him.
But even as he stiffened his shoulders and brought the brass of his instrument to his lips a little too late, as usual, he couldn’t take his eyes off of that tall boy with the stunningly perfect pompadour and the number 4 spread out on his back as he walked off the field.
He didn’t know when this all started, but he really had it bad, didn’t he?
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At least a month had passed since the hot, hot day where Okuyasu had found himself a little too deep in his daydreams about his favorite quarterback. Not that that particular date stuck out to him at all—there had already been countless days where the exact same thoughts had consumed his mind. It was a curse, really. Even today, Okuyasu found himself in much the same position, taking shelter from the light, misty rain under his tattered umbrella as he took his usual perch on the bleachers after school, about half an hour earlier than he was supposed to.
Though Koichi was a no-show for now (probably off with his girlfriend somewhere, the bastard), Okuyasu thankfully wasn’t alone. There were always a few other kids who didn’t know what to do with themselves before practice that waited around just like he did, talking amongst themselves just to kill time. He was pretty grateful for that—otherwise, he’d probably look like a complete jackass. But it wasn’t like he was here early just to watch Josuke—Okuyasu really didn’t know what to do with himself in this weird, in-between hour! So it was completely fine to hang around a little early! Though, somewhere in his mind, the fact that he felt the need to convince himself that it was okay to be here, so close to the guy he was crushing on so badly, made his guts twist up…
The only thing that kind of sucked about today was that it was raining, even if it wasn’t all that hard. His umbrella kept him mostly dry, but he could feel water seeping through the back of his pants—the metal seats hadn’t exactly been dry by the time he got to them. It was kind of annoying, but he was glad that they had at least one thing common with the football team. Rain never excused you from practice—only death would. And in the end, he didn’t really care if his pants were a little wet. Rain or shine, there were always other things to focus on.
Okuyasu just kind of sat there, half asleep, half watching the football team take turns wrestling each other a little too close to the edge of the field for comfort. They were practically up in his face! Honestly, he didn’t know what the hell they were doing. He didn’t really get sports—well, the tackling part he could get, but all the tactics and strategy that went into it just kind of flew over his head. Yet another reason why he’d probably never make a good football player. All he knew about anything was that Jouske would look good doing those stupid tackles once it was his turn. He made everything look good.
He tried his very best to ignore the way his heart fluttered when the coach shouted Josuke’s name, and that beautiful boy finally stepped up, walking in his direction to get to the center of the action. Okuyasu swallowed, desperate to look away, but unable to avert his gaze from that perfectly-styled hair, or those big, soft lips, or those pretty blue eyes. Josuke was so close to him that he could just make out how beautiful his eyes were, how they sparkled despite the cloudiness of the sky, how they looked up and…
Okuyasu’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest when Josuke’s eyes met his. It only happened for a second, because the moment he realized Josuke was looking at him, even if it was just a passing glance, he flung his gaze at anything or anyone or anyplace else but Josuke, leaving him staring at his wet, worn-out shoes.
He wanted to scream! Had Josuke seen the way he was staring at him!? He prayed, and prayed, and prayed, and prayed that Josuke hadn’t even really seen him—that he was looking past him, or that he’d only imagined it.
With his heart still pounding in his chest, Okuyasu gave a cautious glance up to the field, to make sure Josuke had gone back to doing anything else but looking at him—only to be met with the sight of Josuke getting absolutely steamrolled by one of the larger players on the team, landing on the ground with a thud that sounded downright painful.
Maybe it was the adrenaline still pumping through his veins after his close encounter with death just moments before, but the next thing Okuyasu knew, he had already called out “Josuke!” in a too-loud and too-worried voice and climbed down the bleachers, running to the fallen athlete’s side.
So there he was, crouching over a dazed Josuke on the ground with the whole football team and a good number of band kids staring at him. It didn’t take long at all for the heat of the moment to wear off and for Okuyasu to realize what the hell he’d just gotten himself into.
His face lit right up when the mix of shouting and penalizing whistles reached his ears, and only darkened as those beautiful blue eyes looked up at him in confusion through the helmet he had probably put on sometime during Okuyasu’s little freak-out.
Oh God—if he wasn’t freaking out before, he was definitely freaking out now.
“U-Uh…” He stuttered, desperately trying to think of something, anything to say that would make him look any less stupid than he probably looked right then.
“A-Are you alright, man? I got a band-aid! I mean, if you need it! That looked pretty bad!” He finally spat out, his insides simultaneously freezing and combusting as Josuke’s pained gaze softened at the offer. Oh god, was he smiling? At him…? Damn it, his heart couldn’t take this!
“I think I’m good, man. I’m okay.” Came his reply in that, firm, smooth, albeit pained, voice that Okuyasu really wasn’t used to hearing at all, much less directed at him. He swore that if there was any way for a human being to melt into pudding, he’d do it right then and there.
He helped the quarterback up, his heart nearly giving out when Josuke grabbed hold of him. He was given a friendly pat on the back and a “Thanks, man” punctuated by the sweetest smile he’d ever seen, before Josuke ran back to his coach, who was a little preoccupied lecturing a certain player who’d gone a little overboard.
Okuyasu slumped back down onto the bleachers, a complete wreck for the rest of football’s time on the field.
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It was a complete miracle that his heart rate had managed to go back to normal any time this century, let alone by the time Koichi and his hot girlfriend (Yukako Yamagishi, honor roll student, flute player, and resident ice queen) arrived. He made good use of his time frantically talking to them about anything and everything he could think of (that is, anything except for what had just happened). He didn’t dare cast his gaze anywhere near a certain player for the rest of the afternoon, lest his entire body go up in flames again.
By the time Jotaro showed up, signaling the start of their turn on the field, Okuyasu had almost completely pushed the whole incident out of his mind.
When he felt a tap on the shoulder, he didn’t think twice about turning around with big, curious eyes.
He almost died of a heart attack at the tender age of 16 right then and there.
“Hey… Actually, do you think I could have one of those band-aids? I didn’t realize it ‘til now, but I got a pretty nasty scrape on my arm when I fell.” Came Josuke’s calm, unfaltering voice, their eyes meeting the moment Okuyasu turned around. His helmet was off again now, tucked neatly under his arm, and either he had fixed his hair up just after taking it off, or it had stayed damn-near perfect under that helmet, but there he was, with those gorgeous lips and eyes and hair, not even two feet away from him.
Honestly, all Okuyasu wanted to do was scream—again. But fortunately for everyone involved, he managed to hold it in.
“O-Oh! Y-Yeah! Sure!” He blurted out, hoping that Josuke couldn’t see how much Okuyasu felt like he was trembling. Digging clumsily through his backpack, he unearthed a package of colorful band aids, cursing to himself. He’d completely forgotten that the only band-aids he had were the box of colorful, kiddy-brand bandages he’d gotten on sale… Hopefully, Josuke didn’t think it was too lame…
“Alright, here! Let me see it!” Okuyasu directed, mustering all the strength he could to not be carried off by the swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Josuke did as instructed. He was right—it was a pretty bad scrape, covering a good 3 or 4 inches close to his elbow. He’d probably need a few bandages for that…
Just as he was about to stick the first band-aid he’d grabbed out of the box on Josuke’s damaged skin (god, it was soft—he almost felt dirty for touching it), he was stopped.
“Wait!” Josuke interjected before flashing a sheepish smile. Okuyasu’s eyes widened. Didn’t Josuke know he was killing him!? “Could I… Actually have the purple one…?”
It took Okuyasu a moment to process his request. But when he did, he felt like he was about to lose what little grip he had on himself. His cheeks betrayed him as they dusted with pink. That was so… Cute!
“Right! Purple! Good choice!” Okuyasu repeated, searching the box for any purple bandages he could find. It took a total of 3, but when they were all stuck on, Josuke’s injury had been covered up nicely and the athlete was looking satisfied (though whether it was in relief or because he liked the way the purple band-aids looked, Okuyasu couldn’t tell).
Those bright blue eyes looked up from the bandages to him, of all people and places, and Josuke gave a smile that made Okuyasu’s legs want to give out.
“Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. That was really cool of you to make sure I was okay back there.” Did he just call him cool? “What was your name again?”
“Okuyasu! Okuyasu Nijimura.” He all but shouted, still not convinced that all of this was a real thing that was actually happening to him and not some kind of messed-up dream.
And Josuke just kept on smiling at him, kinder and brighter than ever. “Nice to meet you, Okuyasu. I’ll see you around, okay? Good luck with practice!”
As the other boy walked off to the locker room like he always did after practice, it took everything Okuyasu had not to just collapse into the grass and call it a night. Even the gentle misting of rain on his skin and Jotaro’s menacing whistle could hardly break him out of his gawking. Did Josuke just talk to him!? Did they just become friends!?