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Yuma fumed and nearly tossed his broom (last year's Nimbus model) when he saw that the Quidditch field was occupied. Who else but himself could be flying around before dawn? Yuma squinted to see better. Yesterday, he had asked Fuma, their captain, to let him reserve the field very early in the morning. As a Chaser, he was expected to be nimble and fast on his broom. He did not naturally inherit those qualities nor did they grow in him. The only way to keep his reflexes top-notch and his flying speed sharp in every possible scenario was through excruciating hours of training. Even his teammates joked that Yuma had to stay on his broom when Dementors flew around him. Regular sessions were still not enough.
That’s why Yuma woke up before sunrise, dragging his feet through the wet soil of the Hogwarts yard, yawning and grumbling. After all, Yuma was not naturally a morning person. Yet he bravely asked for individual training very early, even before classes started. It's the fifth year being responsible for his Quidditch performance, as per his own standards.
Maybe it’s the pressure of defending his Quidditch Champion title this year. Or maybe it’s because he was embarrassed in the final match last year when he almost failed to catch the snitch.
Yuma's anger was understandable, given the circumstances. He didn't wake up in the early dawn just to catch one of Gryffindor's beaters flying around, whooping with his bat.
“Ooh! Look who’s here,” said the beater, halting his maneuver after successfully swinging his bat, sending a bludger flying.
Riki Wilhelm Maus was the newest addition to the Gryffindor Quidditch team last year. Riki—or Maki, as he had been known—was a wild card who helped keep Gryffindor afloat last year. He was discovered by Yudai, Gryffindor’s captain, during one of the Quidditch team tryouts. Yuma recalled how Maki literally saved the team last year by keeping the bludger away and clearing the field with his booming laughter. Together with another Riki—Taki—they were dubbed the best beater duo in Hogwarts' Quidditch history. It was a source of irritation for Yuma until today. Maybe for the next hundred years.
"Maus. I remember that today is Slytherin’s scheduled time to use the field. Get out," Yuma said, gritting his teeth and speaking without any pleasantries. His grip on the broom grew tighter, and his jaw clenched. He didn't bother to conceal the anger starting to bubble up. “Is Gryffindor choosing to be a team that can’t respect the field rules now? Or do you have trouble reading the schedule?” Yuma raised an eyebrow and tilted his head toward the announcement board down the corridor to the locker rooms.
"Oh, but Slytherin scheduled it to start at six. It’s not even five yet, Yumnyangi. Maybe you should pay more attention to your captain. I think it'll help you avoid missing important things, like the snitch,” Maki replied without faltering while getting off his broom and getting closer to Yuma, smirking annoyingly. Maki looked gleeful, knowing that Yuma would always be upset when anyone brought up the snitch incident from a year ago—the one where Yuma almost miserably failed to catch the snitch that flying right beside his head after Maki maneuvered too close to him. Yet, Maki never failed to talk about it every time Yuma was within earshot.
"Stop with that," Yuma hissed. He’s holding himself back from shouting Expelliarmus or any other spell that could possibly knock Maki out.
"That? The 'Yumnyangi,' or the greatest match of Gryffindor versus Slytherin, with the Slytherin seeker's big flop?" Maki deliberately laughed to mock Yuma, knowing he would be angry. "Ooh, look at you. If only you had a tail, it would be so puffed up. Angry kitten is angry,” he said, still laughing annoyingly and not letting Yuma off easily.
As the older one, Yuma should be more responsible. He should be more responsible, like Fuma always reminded him. But Yuma took a few steps closer, ready to throw his fist. "Listen here, you dimwit—"
In a split second, a whistling sound ripped through the sky. Yuma recognized the familiar whirring sound. The bludger that Maki used for practice (or for something else—he didn't want to confirm that) was flying around them, likely on a collision course. But the foggy weather made it hard to find the wild ball of steel. It won't be fun if you get knocked down by a bludger during practice, especially since he hadn't even started his session yet.
"Maki! Get your bludger and piss off,” the older one grumbled. He's still watching around to make sure the stray, magic-imbued ball won't kill them.
"Oh, now it's Maki?"
"Just get on with it. I want to start my practice without killing you first.”
It’s almost like the time being slowed. Yuma just opened his mouth to continue, suddenly the whistling rumble cracking from behind him. As a seeker, he had fast reflexes. Yuma jumped to avoid the bloody collision, but Maki suddenly reached his shoulder. The younger had a bigger build—tall, almost buff beyond his age—and Yuma knew he’s even stronger than him. Maki easily pulled Yuma to standing behind him, and with practiced movement, Maki swung his bat. The iron ball sent flying across the field. Yuma looked up (fuck his height, seriously), right when Maki tilted his head down, making their eyes meet halfway.
“Don’t worry, Princess. You are safe,” the smile on Maki’s face irked Yuma more than it should.
That’s kind of the last straw, until Yuma kicked Maki straight on his left shin.
Yuma ignored Maki’s yowl and strode away. He didn’t need Maki’s gallant act to save him from a bloody stray bludger. That younger Gryffindor was annoying, pretty much always on Yuma’s nerve since they met for the first time. Yuma stomped hard on the ground, riding his broom and left Maki down there. The wind slapped his face, hard. It was cold. Yuma could see the sun starting to rise, a golden line appeared on the horizon. This could be a perfect morning practice—if only that annoying Gryffindor left him alone.
He’s still trying to ignore Maki. Yuma heard the younger shout at him, while the bludger’s familiar whistling reverberated through the air around them. Yuma gripped his broomstick tighter, took a sharp turn to avoid it. Though Maki suddenly followed and hit the bludger again. Yuma grimaced. Maki chased him, flying close behind Yuma.
“Hey, Yumnyangi. I am still training,” Maki grinned while flying closer. It’s enough to make Yuma rolled his eyes and trying to get rid of Maki tailing him.
“Get lost, Maus,” while Yuma gritted his teeth, tempted to kick Maki off his broom—if only that won’t make him benched during the match two weeks ahead.
“But, who would hit the bludger for you?”
“I can avoid them just fine.”
“Uh—really?”
Yuma groaned again and flying zigzag as he heard the bludger. From the corner of his eyes, Yuma saw that iron ball accelerate towards him. Though, again, Maki made a sharp turn and hit the bludger head on, sent it flying away. Maki turned his head, throwing Yuma a nasty smirk.
“Told you, Yumnyangi. Let’s just practice together.”
Again, Yuma rolled his eyes and steering his broom away, creating a larger gap between Maki and his broom.
“Quit it, Maki,” Yuma hissed when the younger came closer again, now their shoulders almost touching. Fucking hell. He had no choice but flying away from Maki—although inside his head, Yuma was tempted to bump Maki to push him.
Maki was a persistent little shit. Yuma knew. The younger was still flying too close for Yuma’s liking. Time was ticking and Yuma didn’t have all day to practice. Although he had booked the field, knowing Maki, the young beater won’t let him slip peacefully. Yuma groaned, took a U-turn until he could see Maki in front of him.
“Listen. Just this time. I’ll let you use the field—but keep your bludger away from me,” Yuma hissed, refusing to look defeated in Maki’s little game.
Yuma expected Maki to laugh or mock him, yet the younger smiled wide. His eyes behind that silly google seemed light up. Maki threw a punch in the air, giddy and still annoying in Yuma’s eyes.
“Cut it. Just fly and don’t make me change my mind,” Yuma shoo-ed Maki away.
Of course, Maki had a different idea. He flew closer.
“The great seeker of Slytherin allows me to practice together with me. This is a big day,” with that annoying smirk, Maki winked at Yuma. “Maybeee, I would be lucky enough to score a date with you, later?” Maki added his remark with a small laugh. The lilt in his tone was a little bit too giddy to be mocking.
“W—what?”
Yuma was—flabbergasted.
Maki just laughed and flew away, “nah, I’ll keep the bludger away for you, Princess Kitty.”
Annoying. Little. Shit.
Yuma scorned and try to ignore what Maki said earlier after he flipped Maki from a far. From the corner of his eyes, Yuma saw Maki hit the bludger. Yeah, sure. As long as that boy stop pestering him. Yuma huffed, then sped up his broom to start his practice—finally.
*
It was okay to see Maki just once on the pitch during Yuma’s supposed-to-be private practice session. Yuma let it slide; he didn’t even tell Fuma about what had happened. Days passed, and they had several practice sessions before the Quidditch Cup started. It was supposed to be Yuma’s usual routine, split between school and practices. Eventually, he learned to coexist with Maki. The younger boy showed up to his early morning practices almost every time. Eventually, Yuma just let him be—though he wasn't necessarily friendly toward Maki. He simply tolerated the younger boy practicing alongside him. Occasionally, Yuma replied to Maki’s annoying chatter in a somewhat neutral tone, which wasn't as sharp as Yuma’s usual remarks.
To Yuma, Maki was still just that annoying junior.
“Fix your flying posture,” Maki said. It had only been a few minutes since Yuma took off on his broom when Maki popped up beside him out of nowhere. The younger boy flew closer and patted Yuma’s back—prompting the older to swat Maki’s hand away. Maki laughed.
“Go away,” Yuma said, pulling his broom further back to create some distance. Maki snickered and (annoyingly) closed the gap again.
“Seriously, flying with your back hunched will make it harder to speed up—Yudai told me,” Maki shrugged. Once again, he patted Yuma’s back, and this time, his hand lingered.
Yuma’s breath hitched, and he pushed Maki’s shoulder. Not too hard, just enough to make the younger boy pull away slightly. Yuma straightened his back the moment Maki retreated. Catching the younger boy's smile, Yuma instantly hissed in annoyance. Sometimes, Yuma feared Maki’s antics were going to make his blood pressure skyrocket. Despite all of Yuma’s less-than-friendly responses, Maki still showed up on the Quidditch pitch, wearing his ugly red robes and that equally annoying smile on his face.
Maki kept his distance. Strangely, Yuma noticed that the younger boy wasn't swinging his bat around, and there was no Bludger in sight.
“You’re not going to practice with a Bludger?” Yuma asked, turning his head slightly toward Maki.
“No. Maybe I just want to fly around you today,” Maki shrugged, grinning strangely at Yuma. “Do you want to race? A great Seeker needs to maintain their speed, right?”
What even— Yuma scrunched his nose. The younger Beater was proposing… a race? Yuma scoffed.
“You’re a Beater.”
“And?”
“Are you dumb or what? Do you want to embarrass yourself?” Yuma tilted his chin. As a matter of fact, Yuma was never a slowpoke on his broom. Sure, Maki was taller and physically stronger than the Seeker, but when it came to agility, Yuma had the upper hand. Yuma was one of the fastest players around, possessing exceptional flying skills.
Maki looked smug, raising his eyebrow (annoyingly, once again). Yuma wanted to punch him.
“If,” the younger boy flew around Yuma, “I win, you have to give me something.” Maki looked incredibly confident. Initially, the idea sounded stupid, and Yuma knew he should say no. But seeing Maki look so full of himself made Yuma really want to make the younger boy regret his silly idea of racing a Seeker.
“Alright, don’t cry behind me later, Maus,” Yuma smiled—a cold, intimidating expression. Yet, all he heard was Maki cooing at him.
“Aww—look at that smile. Have you ever noticed that the corners of your lips turn upward like a cat's?”
Yuma was highly tempted to lunge at Maki and knock him right off his broom. “Do you want to race, or do you just want to admit defeat now, Maus?” If Maki wanted to get on his nerves, Yuma was glad to reciprocate. He ignored Maki’s weird statement. Everything Maki did just added to the growing list in Yuma’s head, titled: Why Riki Maus Deserves to Be Punched Straight in the Face (or Kicked in the Crotch). It was as if Maki always found a way to irk him.
“Okay, okay. Now, on your mark—and go!”
What the…
Maki didn’t even let Yuma get into position. The younger boy suddenly sped away with a booming laugh.
“Shit—come back here, Maus!” Yuma knew it was futile to call him back and redo the start; Maki was just playing dirty.Groaning, Yuma kicked the air and steered his trustworthy broom to catch up with Maki—maybe this time, Yuma really would kick him.
Hearing Maki’s laughter echoing far ahead made Yuma harden his jaw. Annoying and far too prideful, Maki was acting as if he had already won. Yuma gripped his broom tighter, ducking down until his chest touched the handle. He flew faster, ignoring the wind slapping against his face. Yuma tilted his broom downward, maneuvering his route until he caught up to Maki.
If the younger boy wanted to play dirty, Yuma could do the same.
Yuma took his chance as they flew around the curved corner of the pitch. He shot upward right beside Maki, eliciting a startled shriek from the younger boy.
“Woah, Yumnyangi, be careful—shit! Yuma!”
That was exactly the response Yuma had aimed for, faking a wobbly turn as if their brooms were about to crash into each other. Yuma calculated the timing perfectly; Maki definitely slowed down. Yuma cackled, then bolted forward.
“Sh—YUMA!” Maki’s frustrated groan was music to his ears. Yuma sped up without looking back. Holding the younger boy back for just a few seconds had been enough; Yuma was now leading the so-called race.
After taking the lead, Yuma reached their starting point and scoffed at a sour-faced Maki, who trailed closely behind him. Yuma landed on his feet, triumphant and ready to shut down any excuses Maki might make.
“See? You need to work on your reflexes—”
“Don’t do that again. I thought you were going to fall,” Maki murmured as he stepped onto the ground, frowning at Yuma. His playful tone was entirely gone.
“What?” Yuma was taken aback, completely confused.
“I thought you were going to fall,” Maki repeated, sounding… upset. The younger boy watched Yuma, his eyes trailing up and down. Yuma heard Maki huff before the younger boy suddenly walked past him, grabbing his broom and marching away from the field.
“Maki—”
The taller boy stopped and turned his head. “Just don’t—just try not to fall off your broom. It’s worrisome.”
With that, Maki walked away, leaving Yuma standing alone in the middle of the Quidditch field. Weird. Maybe the wind had slapped his face a little too hard, because Yuma thought he had just heard Maki sounding worried… about him.
Yeah, he was definitely just imagining things. Yuma shook his head, mounted his broom, and kicked off the ground to fly. It was good to finally have the field to himself; no one would crash his practice session anymore, right?
(But it was too quiet. Yuma ended his practice early.)
*
Yuma didn’t know why he sighed in relief when he saw Maki flying around the field. It had been a week after their ‘race’, and Maki didn’t crash his practice session at all. Once in a while, sure, Yuma saw Maki around the castle, but for days, the younger didn’t even come to the field.
(Yuma just worried a bit. Really. A little bit.)
“Maki!”
The older seeker looked up and waited for Maki to notice his presence. Today, Maki brought his bat. A noisy wheeze from the bludger filled up Yuma’s ears. Yuma watched Maki fly in a sharp turn, chasing the bludger, and hit it with both of his arms. Maki was wearing his google, and his blonde hair got messy from the wind. Well, Yuma couldn’t help but notice that Maki had grown so much from a wimp-looking boy to a tall, sturdy-looking one. A sour truth was that in a year, Maki surpassed Yuma’s height with ease.
Finally, Maki saw Yuma. The boy grinned, pushing his google up. “You’re late. Did you dream about me and overslept? Or are you considering giving up on your drill and realizing that Gryffindor will win after all?”
Oh. Right. It’s still the annoying Riki Maus.
Yuma frowned, dropping the idea of at least asking about the younger one's whereabouts for the last few days.
“Piss off,” Yuma hissed. Maki laughed, still annoying as hell. Quidditch season officially started next week; today is his last individual training. Yuma didn’t need to get distracted by Maki. He kicked the ground, riding the broom, and was pretty much prepared to ignore the younger.
Again, it was okay for Yuma. Maki’s presence was not as annoying as he thought it could be.
Well—not today, apparently.
Yuma hissed when he saw Maki was wobbling on his broom, missed his aim, and sent the bludger straight toward the older. If not for Yuma’s fast reflex, surely he would be lying on the ground already, with some broken bones.
That made Yuma snap.
“Bloody hell. Maus.”
He was tired from the extra practice, lack of sleep, and trying to keep his academic performance at least acceptable. Yuma flew closer to Maki, and without warning, he grabbed Maki’s collar.
“Hey, sorry—“ Maki didn’t even get the chance to laugh and finish his sentence. The older gritted his teeth, fuming. The way Yuma looked was angry enough to make Maki shut his mouth.
“You. Dimwit. I tolerated you enough, and you almost killed me,” Yuma’s anger seeped through his grip. He was this close to pushing Maki off his broom.
Maki usually just laughed at Yuma’s hissy tone, but today the younger winced. He didn’t retaliate in a hurry as usual. No playful remarks, no snickering laugh. Maki froze. His jaw hardened. Yuma, on the other hand, read Maki’s face as something that irritated his ego more. The older person pulled Maki’s collar again.
“Wasn’t that enough to make me into a laughing stock last year?”
Those words slipped through Yuma’s lips like a dripping hot mercury.
“What—” finally, Maki spoke, looking confused.
“Enough. It was your fault! Your shitty flying tricks made me lose track of the snitch last year,” Yuma exhaled, “and you’re still laughing at me. Don’t pretend you’re worried to see me almost fall last week.” The older seeker loosened his grip, harshly pulling his hand away.
This time, Maki grabbed Yuma’s wrist, holding the older person from going away. “You know, Yuma. If your pride is hurt that much because of last year's incident, just don’t dump it on me.” Maki looked hurt and upset. “Stop being petty over things inside your head—and no, I was really worried last week.”
Yuma pulled his hand from Maki’s grip, turning a deaf ear to him.
“Whatever.”
Yuma landed on the ground later, storming away.
*
Of course, the universe had conspired to make Yuma even more miserable after it had been announced that the first Quidditch match of the season would be Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Fuck it, indeed. When Fuma came in with the news of the first week's match schedule, Yuma seriously wanted to scream in frustration. Yesterday's incident on the pitch was still vividly burned into his mind, yet he wasn't being given much of a breather and was already going to face Maki on the field again. Talk about shitty luck.
“Whoa, it’s very cloudy outside,” Kamden, their chaser, muttered as he peeked out the locker room window. Yuma glanced toward the window. Yeah, the sky outside was incredibly gloomy.
“Five minutes, boys. This is our first match, we’re going to win,” Fuma stood in the middle of the room, looking calm—no wonder he’s chosen to be their captain. “Be careful, still. I don’t want anyone on hospital wing after this match,” and Yuma knew Fuma’s eyes now fell onto him. Yuma rolled his eyes and nodded. Yeah, definitely, Fuma knew how reckless Yuma could be.
When they were marching toward the field, Yuma winced at the loud cheers. Green and red painted his sight. Yuma looked at the tribune that was full of students and teachers. Half in green, cheering for Slytherin. Another half cheered when Gryffindor’s team came into sight.
Maki walked last on the back. Yuma turned his head away.
Watching Fuma and Yudai exchanging short acknowledgements and shaking each other’s hands was kind of funny, since everyone knew both of the captains were disgustingly lovey-dovey outside the field. But during Quidditch, Yuma understood how Fuma was an ambitious rival to his very own boyfriend. Yuma kept his face straight, avoiding Maki on the far right side of the Gryffindor team. He needed to keep his head cool; he needed to win this game.
A few moments later, the Bludger and the Snitch were released. The cheers from the crowd grew louder as the players began to take flight on their respective brooms. The Quaffle was thrown, and Yuma heard the Chasers bolt forward, racing to catch and pass the ball. The whizzing sound of a Bludger followed closely behind. Yuma grimaced and flew further away, following the captain's orders to wait until Slytherin was leading the match by at least 50 points.
Yuma’s main focus at that moment was avoiding the Bludgers—and Maki. He flew higher and higher, keeping a sharp eye out in case the Snitch flew past him. That tiny, agile golden ball would be the deciding factor in the final minutes, but it would be much better if Yuma could catch it quickly once Slytherin held a decent lead.
Fuma, Slytherin’s captain and Keeper, was on high alert, guarding the hoops. The fight for points with the Quaffle was fierce. Yuma glanced at the scoreboard, biting his lip as the scores chased each other at a rapid pace. Gryffindor was at 30 points, with Slytherin quickly catching up to 40 right after. Yuma flew even higher, staying clear of the Bludgers because it wouldn't be funny at all if the Slytherin Seeker got knocked out by an iron ball before he could even compete for the Snitch.
Then, the rain fell.
“Fuck…”
Raindrops pelted on his face, but luckily, the charm keeping his glasses dry allowed Yuma to see clearly ahead. Even so, it didn't take long for the downpour to grow heavier. Yuma sighed, trying to fly a bit lower so he wouldn't miss any instructions from his captain.
The score was currently 80 for Slytherin. Unfortunately, Gryffindor managed to pull ahead and accumulate 100 points.
Thunder crashed. The rain showed no signs of letting up. The handle of his broom felt slick, and his robes were starting to feel heavy. Yuma kept glancing toward Fuma, but this time, his captain shook his head—a sign that it wasn't time for Yuma to chase the Snitch yet.
However, Yuma caught a flash of gold above the Gryffindor spectator tribune. Clicking his tongue, he swerved and flew at lightning speed toward the stands.
Yuma narrowed his eyes, his vision still obscured by the heavy downpour. Lightning continued to flash across the sky. There was a chance the match would be postponed if the weather grew any worse, but as long as no signal was given, they were all still chasing the points to win. Yuma glanced back at the scoreboard. Slytherin was up by 30 points. Then, he saw the Gryffindor Seeker—Minju—bolting in the same direction.
Oh. Shit.
It was a storm now—no longer just heavy rain, but a full-blown storm. Yuma grimaced and gripped his broom tightly, pushing his speed and weaving to avoid a Bludger that flew right over his head. The commentator shouted; Slytherin was currently leading by 40 points. The golden glimmer of the Snitch appeared again, this time near the tower on the Gryffindor side of the tribune. Yuma quickly flew after it.
“Oi! The lightning just struck there—don’t fly there, Yuma!” A familiar voice boomed behind him—fuck. It was Maki.
Yuma seethed in no time.
“Piss off,” he muttered, and he flew away, ignoring Maki, who was shouting his name.
Yuma was too focused on the tower, searching for the Snitch, and he missed the whizzing sound of a Bludger that had already gotten far too close. Amidst the crashing sounds of thunder, Yuma grimaced and ducked low over his broom, continuing to fly toward the Snitch.
Of course, he hadn't accounted for the second Bludger.
The iron ball smashed into the back of his broom; the Slytherin Beaters were too far away to reach Yuma in the middle of this storm. Yuma lost his balance, but luckily, he managed to maintain a tight grip on his broom. Catch the Snitch. Yuma’shead was full of that single thought; it was only about winning the game. He heard a shriek—maybe Minju had failed to dodge a Bludger. Yuma turned his head slightly.
But a sudden blinding light struck, followed by something hitting his left arm—a Bludger. Fuck. The crack sounded nasty in his ears. Yuma felt his arm going numb, and it was hard to grip the broom. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the hell. Yuma gritted his teeth. And there it was. The Snitch was flying around the red flag near the topmost stand. Yuma flew faster.
“Yuma—OI, YUMA! STOP!” Maki tailed behind him. Annoying little shit. Yuma ignored Maki, along with the throbbing pain spreading in his left arm. Maki’s voice grew fainter as the Snitch flew off in the opposite direction, forcing Yuma to make a sharp turn. But he was getting closer to the tiny gold ball. Whether it was cheers or screams, Yuma only focused on the Snitch ahead of him. He reached out with one hand to grab it—
Got it!
But the moment he turned around, he saw a Bludger hurtling straight toward him.
Oh. Shit. Indeed.
He heard a loud crack. No, the Bludger didn’t hit him. Maki flew beside him, his bat swung loudly.
“Stubborn cat,” Maki sighed, and just in time caught Yuma, who lost his grip on his broom.
Warm. Maki’s arm circled around Yuma to keep the older from falling to his demise. Yuma raised his right arm, Snitch in his hand. The pain was excruciating. Yuma felt his eyes getting heavy.
“I got it,” Yuma laughed weakly. He thought Maki was going to get sour—yet the younger tightened his grip on Yuma’s waist.
“And got your arm busted.”
“You’re just a sore loser.”
Maki rolled his eyes.
“I just don’t like to see you get hurt, Yumnyangi.”
Maki helped Yuma land on the ground. Yuma’s teammates flew down and shouted his name. Slytherin won. Maki’s arm was still around Yuma’s waist until Fuma reached them with the medics. Even after that, Maki glanced through the heads of the Slytherins who swarmed around Yuma.
This time, Yuma caught that worried look on Maki’s face.
His chest fluttered. So annoying.
*
Yes, Yuma was practically sentenced to spend at least three days in the hospital wing. Busted arm, fever, caught a cold—Yuma pouted when Fuma (and Yudai tagging along, hugging his captain’s arm) told him to get some rest. Yuma rolled his eyes, only to be scolded by Fuma while Yudai was fussing at him to eat all the food that the Gryffindor’s captain brought him. It felt like looking at your parents nagging you during your sick day.
“Oh, Yuma. Maki is waiting outside. Is it okay if I tell him to come?” Yudai asked right before Fuma gently pulled his boyfriend out.
Yuma gulped, then nodded. Yudai giggled and said a small thank you. After the couple was out of his sight, Maki walked past the drape, clearly bothered—worried?
“Hey,” it’s definitely weird to see Maki being skittish and awkward.
“My arm is fine, still hurts, but not to be worried about. They said I caught a cold, but nothing’s bad,” Yuma huffed. “Well. Thank you—if you’re not hitting the second Bludger, it’s my head that would be cracked open,” his small laugh and joke met a silence. Maki frowned upon hearing it.
Okay. Maki didn’t come to mock him or joke with him. Yuma sighed. “Okay, okay. Sorry. But, see, I am recovering,” Yuma surprised himself, hearing his tone a little bit softer at Maki. “I am a stubborn cat, I have nine lives,” Yuma shrugged.
“Stubborn cat,” Maki reached out and patted Yuma’s head softly. “There’s only one Yumnyangi, and I don’t like to see this cat get hurt,” definitely, it’s weird to see Maki like this. And that weird flutter inside his chest was tickling Yuma from the inside.
“But,” Yuma was getting this weird urge to grab Maki’s wrist and hold his large, calloused hand—so he did, surprising the younger, “you saved me, silly. Sorry for taking out my frustration on you last week.”
If Maki had a pair of puppy ears, they must be twitching up right now. The younger blinked his eyes. “So. My flying tricks weren’t shitty?” Maki tilted his head and smiled.
Oh. Right. What the fuck.
“No,” Yuma laughed.
“Then. Would you practice again with me?”
Yuma was surprised (again) at himself; he didn’t swat Maki’s hand away—because Maki now entwined their fingers together.
“Well—only if you’re getting me a butterbeer after that.”
It’s weird. But Yuma felt right when Maki laughed and held his hand tighter.