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It’s distracting.
It’s way too distracting—why would he wear such a shortly cropped shirt to practice?
Each time Sawamura raises his arms, Kazuya gets treated to the sight of his waist, and his mouth turns dry.
For once, he’s glad he isn’t the one catching for him today. Kazuya watches from the sidelines, trying to take notes on how Sawamura’s Numbers are doing.
Key word: trying.
There’s not a single damn thought about the splitter in his head though, which is frankly upsetting—but god.
Usually, when Kazuya gets distracted like this, he can recover just fine within minutes. He’s captain, starting catcher, and clean up. He shouldn’t be letting his brain turn to mush just because his boyfriend looks pretty.
“That was a good one! What d’ya think, Miyuki-senpai!” Sawamura beams at him, and Kazuya doesn’t know what to say other than a sheepish sorry, I wasn’t looking.
His standard arsenal of taunts disappear with his heartbeat. When a silence Sawamura deems unacceptable hangs between them (it’s been five seconds), he huffs.
Narrowing his eyes, Sawamura calls him out. “Were you even paying attention to me?!”
Oh, if only he knew.
“Oi, oi, there’s only so many people I can focus on at a moment y’know?” Kazuya responds, randomly pointing to Furuya who’s pitching to Yui. He hasn’t glanced in their direction in a while.
“Well it’s my turn for feedback! So do your job properly, captain!”
“Actually, it’s our turn.” Okumura throws him a nasty side-eye, and Kazuya chuckles. Honestly, before he completely lost focus, he’d been wondering how the Sawamura-Okumura battery was doing. In a few months, he’ll be leaving after all.
Even though it’s a shame Kazuya won’t be able to polish up Sawamura’s Numbers the way he hoped before graduating, he’s glad there are reliable catchers on the team who can finish the job.
Sawamura’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and there goes all his relevant feedback. “I’m pitching number twelve now! You better look hard this time!”
Kazuya pretends it’s the hardest thing to do just to rile the battery up, before his eyes betray him.
Instantly, they shoot downwards to where the hem of Sawamura’s sport shirt rises and tanned skin escapes.
The baseball hitting Okumura’s mitt is what snaps him out of it and forces him to drag his eyes over to the catcher instead.
He knows he’s been caught when Okumura starts growling.
It’s at that moment does he receive a kick to the butt, and he glares at the offender.
“If you’re not gonna stay focused then leave! You’re irritating.” Kuramochi half-yells and half-whispers in a way that continues to baffle Kazuya. “You disgusting, slimy, filthy eyesore.”
An impressive amount of insults, he almost whistles.
And well—there’s a sight for the sore eyes right there, Kazuya thinks, in an incredible moment of weakness. Sawamura needs to stop reading his shoujo manga out loud.
“How rude, Kuramochi! I’m doing my best here.”
Sawamura must overhear him, because he’s frowning and calling him a liar from where he stands.
Kuramochi looks at Kazuya, and then over his shoulder to eye their ace. He hums, before yelling —without any consideration for Kazuya’s eardrums, “Sawamura! Get over here. Five minute break.”
And because Sawamura listens to Kuramochi (most of the time), he nods at Okumura signalling at him to drink up before walking over.
There’s a very blatant attempt made to keep his eyes trained on Sawamura’s face and not on his stomach as he does. Kazuya’s not sure if he manages to seem as impassive as he wants to this time.
The last thing he hears from Kuramochi is a deadly quiet, “sort your shit out and do your fucking job or I’ll kill you.”
Kazuya knows he’s serious because he’d gotten an agonizing half an hour talk after Sawamura spilled the beans about their relationship to his favourite senior.
“Miyuki Kazuya, are you sick?” Sawamura doesn’t even seem to question Kuramochi’s departure to join the younger Kominoto for batting practice, already aware he was called over for Kazuya’s sake.
“No way.” He says, trying to sound convincing when he can’t stop staring. Without thinking, Kazuya grabs the jacket over his shoulders and wraps it around Sawamura. “But maybe you should put this on.”
“What? We’re in the indoor facility, it’s not even cold!” He huffs, staring at the jacket like it’s offended him. Kazuya tries not to wilt.
In a feeble attempt to not look like some kind of weirdo, Kazuya offers another suggestion. “What about around your waist?”
“Miyuki,” the lack of honorific and sole use of his last name means Kazuya’s been found out. “Are you okay?”
He’s grinning. Sawamura is smiling—the audacity, and placing the jacket back around Kazuya’s shoulders.
Kazuya doesn’t get to reply when he continues, looking extremely proud for someone who was feigning innocence earlier, “your face seems a little red.”
This brat.
Rendered speechless by Sawamura’s cheekiness which he hasn’t quite gotten used to because it’s different when they’re a battery and when they’re boyfriends—Kazuya opts to pull Sawamura’s ears instead.
“Ow!” He whines, even though he’s still smiling at him.
His heart seems to do backflips because someone he cares about is looking at him with the same amount of fondness he feels—
It’s been a while.
A distant memory surfaces as he chuckles at Sawamura’s red cheeks but incredible grin.
He remembers a picnic mat, the colour of gold and red all over the ground, and his mother.
He remembers a flower in his hands—a gift only a child could afford. He remembers thinking she looked beautiful against the autumn backdrop, and he remembers handing it over to her.
Kazuya remembers her smile the clearest.
“What’s this for, Kazuya?” She had asked, curious at the little flower being given to her.
Kazuya wishes he hadn’t remembered his answer so clearly, because it was embarrassing, but he was only six so maybe it’s fine.
“You looked nice, s’all.” He remembers being bashful. He remembers being told that he isn’t supposed to pick flowers from the ground or trees (not that he’d managed to reach them). He remembers his mother taking it anyway, telling Kazuya it was their little secret.
He remembers the way she beamed at him, the foliage behind her casting a tremendous bright glow.
He remembers his heart nearly stopping at her warmth. He remembers his dad laughing behind him (it’s the only memory he has of it these days—these few years) when she tells Kazuya he’s her favourite son.
He remembers snorting, offended and greedy from a young age to be number one. “I’m your only son.”
He remembers being picked up and held close.
“Yes, the cutest son I have.”
“Don’t call me that!”
He remembers soft laughter and orange and red and gold leaves falling with the wind.
He remembers what it’s like to be loved.
And—
When he looks Sawamura Eijun now, holding onto his wrists because Kazuya’s begun rubbing his ears affectionately without thinking—
He sees the same warmth. But it’s different, because a parent’s love is not the same as a partner’s—but.
It hits him all the same as Sawamura breaks into a soft smile like they’re the only two people in the indoor facility.
(The feeling of being loved.)
“Satisfied now?” Sawamura whispers, something that continues to shock Kazuya since they started dating.
“Not in the slightest.” Kazuya replies instantly, this time, he knows just what to say. He wants to move his arm down, down to the offensive shiver of skin that keeps taunting him, but he refrains. “Come to my room later.”
Sawamura asks despite already knowing the answer, “another baseball lesson?”
“Perhaps.” Kazuya says, takes a deep breath, looks Sawamura right in his beautiful golden eyes and finally lets go.
It’s a little pathetic how Sawamura has no qualms about backing off even though Kazuya gets the intense urge to keep him in place.
Kuramochi had mentioned once how Sawamura did a pretty good job at keeping himself in check, unlike some loser.
“Can’t teach a lesson if you can’t even pay attention, Miyuki-senpai! Please look at my pitches properly this time!” Sawamura grins, does a quiet hehe under his breath reserved for Kazuya and runs back to the pitching line.
Okumura is already waiting, so Kazuya sighs at his own incompetence (he doesn’t deserve to be captain!), before focusing on his duties.
Evidently, Sawamura regrets it almost immediately, begging Kazuya to stop with the onslaught of constructive criticism before he pauses, eyes alight.
Kazuya knows that expression, so he can’t help but smirk with pride when Sawamura figures something out with Okumura on how to make number twelve work.
Truly a shame it couldn’t be with Kazuya, but he knows those two will do great together.
Before everybody heads out, he asks if Okumura managed to secure the spare bed in Seto’s room. The youngest of his roommates is already aware of their relationship because Sawamura may be way more composed, but he’s still an awful liar.
There’s the usual growling which Kazuya has long figured out means he’s annoyed but fine with staying over at Seto’s.
Kimura’s bunking in with a friend tonight, so they’ll manage to get some alone time after a while. Perfect.
“Let’s head to the baths—“ Sawamura starts, walking straight to his room to collect his belongings before Kazuya directs him up the stairs instead. “—But I wanna shower!”
“Come on, it won’t be for long.” Kazuya wants to clean up too because he’s been sweating the entire time in that facility since Sawamura showed up in that stupid shirt.
Grumbling the entire walk up and to his room, Sawamura pretends to be annoyed despite his cheerful footsteps.
So easy to read.
Kazuya plants himself on the floor, because he’s not sitting on his bed with dirty workout clothes and pulls Sawamura down to him.
“You’ve been a menace since we started evening practice.” Kazuya skips straight to the point, finally—finally, getting his hands on Sawamura’s waist.
Sawamura barks out a laugh, arms wrapping around Kazuya’s shoulders. “Your hands are so warm! Are you sure you aren’t running a fever?”
In a surprising bout of honesty (perhaps it’s because of the memory coming back to him earlier), he replies, “It’s all your fault.”
“I didn’t even do anything!” Sawamura whines as he decides he’d rather his hands go over Kazuya’s—keeping them on his bare skin.
“You didn’t think about how the shirt would ride up?”
“I thought we’d be doing batting practice today!”
Well, it’s true that the pitchers would normally wear something more secure when pitching. Kazuya thought it would’ve been a good chance to go over the numbers today though, before he realized what a mistake that was.
“Besides,” Sawamura continues, smiling, “Harucchi said this shirt would look good on me.”
The younger Kominoto is as cunning as his older brother. Maybe even worse.
Without hesitating, Kazuya agrees. “It does.”
“Oh.”
His eyes light up with sheer glee, and Kazuya groans.
“Oh? Miyuki Kazuya—“ Sawamura moves his hands away from his own, deciding to play with the back of Kazuya’s hair instead. He sighs into deft fingers combing through the sweaty knots. “I didn’t know you liked me that much.”
“I do. Now stop using my full name.” Kazuya rolls his eyes, pinching exposed skin and delighting in the squeak he gets. He found out pretty early on that Sawamura’s ticklish, and he’s been using it to his advantage more often than not.
“I liked you better when you were being shy.”
“And when was that? I don’t recall.” Kazuya plays dumb, even though there are several instances that pop up in his head.
Sawamura smiles, sincere and that’s when Kazuya’s heart starts beating a little harder. “Half an hour ago. You’re getting old, even Eitoku has better memory than you!”
“Oh I’m sure,” Kazuya snorts at the mention of Sawamura’s boisterous grandfather. “I wasn’t being shy back there though.”
Shaking his head, he tsks tsks, “Don’t be silly! You were blushing.”
“Perhaps I had a fever after all.”
Sawamura does that soft smile again (to be loved), before patting Kazuya’s cheek. “You’re cute, Miyuki-senpai.”
You’re a hundred times cuter, idiot—is what he thinks.
“I know! The girls who watch us practice every afternoon like to tell me that too.”—Is what he says, grinning and watching Sawamura’s cat eyes surface.
“I’ll have you know I get called cute all the time!”
“I didn’t ask.” Kazuya pretends his voice doesn’t go deeper instantly, because sue him—he’s possessive. It only makes Sawamura beam brighter though.
In fact, this is what gets Sawamura to dive into a full on cackle—to both the bemusement and horror of Kazuya who has to think about his neighbours.
“Hey, have you finally lost it? It’s almost ten, lower your volume.” He chides, because he may be biased (as a boyfriend, not catcher) but there are still rules to follow.
The laughter slows down, dissolving into quieter giggles until Sawamura asks, “Can I kiss you?”
All the air in Kazuya’s lungs promptly leave him, and the fingers on Sawamura’s waist dig lightly into the flesh there.
It’s not the first time. There’s been plenty of stolen kisses between them. Sometimes planned, most times unplanned after a win.
“Yeah,” he somehow manages to breathe out a response, leaning in as Sawamura pulls him closer.
Their heads tilt in opposite directions, and it always feels pretty damn good to have Sawamura’s mouth against his.
Kazuya hums in contentment, only slightly desperate for this despite waiting for his chance the whole evening. Sawamura and this shirt aren’t going to do wonders for his concentration and reputation in the future.
When they part to breathe, Kazuya watches with his heart swelling in his chest at the sight of Sawamura chasing after his lips, eyes still closed.
The cutest in the world.
When he realizes Kazuya isn’t going to follow up with more, Sawamura blinks them open. The fire he loves to stare at so much from the distance between them on the field greets him.
“Can we wash up now?” He’s returned to whispering. “Please?”
How unfair. Sawamura’s been using everything he knows gets Kazuya weak in the knees against him lately.
Stupid puppy dog eyes.
Kazuya spends too long trying to rack his brain for some sort of sarcastic remark that would be more like him.
There’s nothing in there when his boyfriend is sitting on his lap, feeling like a blaze in his hands though, so he gives up.
He wonders if the laughter he seems to hear from the back of his mind is because he thought of her an hour ago.
“Alright, okay.”
When he feels a peck on his forehead, bangs brushed away without him realizing, Kazuya stares dumbly at the big silly grin on Sawamura’s face.
“I wish I had my phone on me. I like when you look like this.” Sawamura does a horrible job at hiding his affection, before finally standing up. He stretches a bit, getting the blood in his legs going but the shoulder stretches were definitely unnecessary.
He had politely turned away when Sawamura started cooling down earlier, deciding he really had to get his act together.
Now, in front of his eyes—Kazuya watches with mouth agape as Sawamura’s belly gets exposed with every movement.
“You—“ Kazuya manages to find his voice, narrowing his eyes at his partner whose face blinds him with pure mischief. “You are terrible.”
All he gets is a laugh, Sawamura’s head thrown back like it’s the funniest thing ever and he looks so handsome like this, Kazuya understands his fans.
He wishes he had a better phone to take a picture with.
Warm hands with rough callouses and well maintained nails (courtesy of himself) clasp his wrists when Kazuya lifts them up for Sawamura to take. “C’mon now, before they close the baths!”
“We could always sneak in.” Kazuya lets himself get hauled up, content to rely on Sawamura’s strength to stand. He thinks about the possibility of running into the coaches in there and shakes his head immediately after. “But let’s not.”
“How sensible of you, Cap.” Sawamura muses and waits while Kazuya collects the basket he takes to the baths and his clean clothes.
Inside Room 5, Kuramochi gives him the nastiest glare he’s ever seen as Sawamura grabs his own things—completely oblivious to Kuramochi’s protective nature.
He exchanges a few words with Asada, amused by the balance they’ve come to have in their room. Kazuya remembers Sawamura going out of his way to cheer up the bespectacled boy which resulted in the ’fight’ between him and Okumura.
Now it seems like Sawamura’s successfully taken both Asada and Okumura under his wing. How lucky of them to have such a reliable senior.
“This Sawamura Eijun will be off! Goodnight everybody!” Sawamura loudly declares, bowing. Kuramochi takes a break from the glaring to ruffle his roommate’s hair.
Kazuya makes a point to chuckle at the sight, constantly impressed by Kuramochi’s insistence that he doesn’t treat Sawamura any differently from the other juniors.
Thankfully their time in the baths is uneventful, and Kazuya ensures Sawamura doesn’t spend too much time soaking lest he faints (again).
Without even needing to ask, Sawamura stands in front of the vanity mirror, passing the hairdryer to Kazuya.
“Does the ever so great Ace-sama really need his catcher to dry his hair for him every time?” He means to sound more insulting, but lately all he can hear is the sound of his fondness in his jabs. It’s dire.
“Hah!” Sawamura stares right into his eyes from the mirror, smiling. “My boyfriend happens to love playing with my hair, I think he’s quite happy to be doing this actually.”
Well. Kazuya can only laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as awkward as he feels. The back of his neck prickles with heat. He didn’t think he’d get caught this fast.
Kazuya forgets Sawamura always manages to catch onto the smallest of details.
Pleased at shutting Kazuya up, Sawamura preens as his hair gets blown dry at the heat and speed level he likes.
If Kazuya runs his fingers though Sawamura’s hair for longer than necessary, that’s between him and the way his boyfriend leans into his touch—content sighs escaping from his lips.
He’s like a puppy.
With one last ruffle, Kazuya switches the device off, patting Sawamura on the shoulder.
“Wait! My turn—it’s my turn to dry your hair for you!”
Sawamura gives him the expression, the one where he won’t take no for an answer. Kazuya remembers being stronger at rejecting him.
Sighing, Kazuya hands over the hairdryer and swaps places with Sawamura.
There’s something about the warmth that emits from the hairdryer, the fingers running through his hair, the person behind him—
He considers the last time anyone other than Sawamura took care of him like this. Kazuya trails his eyes all over Sawamura’s face from the mirror, watching the way he smiles and hums.
A part of him wants to look away, close his eyes (don’t stare directly into the sun) but he can’t. Kazuya leans into the touch and memorizes every little micro expression instead.
(It’s fine. Kazuya’s fine.
Maybe they can visit Kazuya’s mother one day.)
Even though it’s getting late, they take a walk to Kazuya’s favourite spot where he practices his batting.
It was on the very stairs that he confessed to Sawamura, despite telling himself he’d focus on getting the team to Koshien.
That’s a story for another day.
He shouldn’t be depriving Sawamura of his much needed sleep as Captain, but Kazuya realizes he’s been getting greedier with each day. He wants to spend just a few more minutes with him.
Kuramochi would never let him live this down if he knew. He’d already heard enough before Kazuya suddenly confessed.
“The stars are so lame in Tokyo!” Sawamura whines, pouting at the sky like it’ll help clear the light pollution. “I’ll show you a real sight when we go to Nagano!”
“I was not aware we had plans to go to your hometown.” Kazuya raises an eyebrow at the boy who holds more stars than the Tokyo night sky. Probably beats Nagano’s too.
Sawamura grins and doesn’t even try to convince him. The bastard. “After we beat Koshien. Let’s go.”
He’s already thinking about what his schedule will be like. Kazuya knows he’ll go pro, no matter what, as fast as possible. He needs to repay his dad for letting him be selfish all these years.
There should be some time after the draft for Kazuya to take a break. It’ll coincide with the end of Koshien, so he shrugs, acting like the prospect of meeting Sawamura’s family doesn’t make him sweat.
That marvellous grin of his widens and he leaps straight at Kazuya. Sawamura is so lucky he’s ready for surprise hugs now. Falling down once trying to catch the overactive ace was enough to teach Kazuya a lesson.
Carefully, he places a hand on Sawamura’s back, humming. “You can visit my parents too.”
The speed at which Sawamura’s head turns towards him with a double take kills Kazuya.
“I can?!” The stars are twinkling. Laughing at him.
Kazuya smiles, the vision crystal clear in his mind. “I’d love to see you try and talk to my dad.”
“Fear not, Miyuki Kazuya! This Sawamura Eijun is known for tearing down even the toughest of walls!”
I know.
Overwhelmed by a surge of affection Kazuya constantly forgets he’s capable of (although Kuramochi likes to remind him otherwise), he pulls Sawamura closer.
His ears burn as he waits for Sawamura’s typical comments like Miyuki Kazuya, you're shockingly cute today! or Does Cap want the Sawamura Special?!—which usually refers to cuddles with Sawamura tucked under his chin as he radiates a comforting warmth.
Yeah, Kazuya thinks he'll take him up on that Sawamura Special offer later. They don’t get many chances to spend the night together, Kazuya always feels bad kicking the juniors out although Okumura and Kimura seem to prefer staying away on regular nights anyway.
Instead of making fun of him, Sawamura preens at the attention and closeness, affectionately rubbing their cheeks together. Kazuya is rendered speechless yet again, never prepared for whatever Sawamura manages to surprise him with.
He’s so damn adorable.
Kazuya decides it’s time to head back to his room, because there’s a position infinite times more comfortable for Sawamura to continue nuzzling (nuzzling!) him on his bed.
“Do you need me to carry you back or something?” Kazuya asks, pinching Sawamura’s sides to snap him out of it.
The brat smiles against Kazuya’s cheek. “Are you offering?”
“And risk getting injured before Koshien?”
“Sounds like you’re not very confident, Captain!” Sawamura teases right in his ear, giggling the way he does whenever they’re alone, together. It’s a different laugh that’s reserved solely for Kazuya to hear.
As cheesy as it sounds (“Disgusting!” Kuramochi’s voice echoes in his head), Kazuya could probably write a guide categorizing the varying degrees of Sawamura Eijun’s emotions.
Kazuya chuckles, patting him on the back. “Weren’t you the one worried about my physical health? Something about how I gotta take better care of myself?”
Sawamura hrmphs, nuzzling further against him. It’s a sign he’s giving up, and taking in what he can before he has to pull away. He’s ridiculous, they have the whole night to cuddle.
The number of exact minutes are slowly decreasing though.
“Fine, fine! Sawamura Eijun would never let his favourite catcher hurt himself before such a big competition!”
Kazuya’s heart thrashes against his ribcage. He coughs when Sawamura pulls away pouting, seemingly unaware of what he’s said.
In standard Kazuya fashion, because he’s not going to let Sawamura know how close he was to actually picking him up and carrying him back to his room, he resorts to retorts.
“Ah? You’re not supposed to be so biased.” Kazuya knows his face is a dead giveaway no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Whether Sawamura calls him out on it is fifty-fifty.
Sawamura slips his hand into Kazuya’s easily, carefree. He tilts his head back to beam at him and it feels like the sun has risen. “Best keep it a secret between us then!”
They walk the whole way back with Kazuya’s heart in his throat. His fingers enclosed around Sawamura’s own. When dawn comes and Sawamura slips away from him he’ll have to let go.
But for now, as they tuck themselves into Kazuya’s bed, Sawamura closer to the edge because he wakes up earlier, he makes sure to hold him close.
He’ll definitely get a sore arm again, yet Kazuya lends it to Sawamura, resting it under his head. Sawamura has already made the space under Kazuya’s chin his home, with legs encircled around his waist like a little koala.
Kazuya doesn’t put on his sleeping mask when he’s with Sawamura, determined to watch him until the very second his breathing slows and those golden eyes have fallen shut.
After the first time they had fallen asleep together and the second night began without Sawamura by his side, Kazuya realized how big his bunk could feel. He’s more accustomed to the emptiness now, used to the small number of chances they have to rest like this.
Still, Kazuya fears he never wants to let go of this—Sawamura’s quiet breathing (because unlike what Kuramochi says, he doesn’t snore), his body under Kazuya’s other arm, Sawamura’s hair tickling his chin.
The radiance of such a bright star in the otherwise dark room.
He’s normally not greedy with his wants. In fact, there’s an incredibly short list currently. It was an even shorter one before Sawamura Eijun stormed into his life, defiant words and eyes alight against a senior much bigger than him.
Back then, there was only one thing on his mind: Baseball.
That’s changed.
He recalls the time he spent together with Sawamura from when he was still a first year—bumbling around with his boisterous behaviour and insane determination.
When he suffered from the Yips and overcame them through his tenacity; when he tasted defeat, frustration and the hunger for improvement.
Kazuya thinks about the flower before him that currently stands tall, loud and proud.
There’s so much more of Sawamura he has to see. There’s so much more he can do.
There’s so much more they can achieve as a battery.
He told Zono the only thing he wants at the moment is to take the team to Koshien (and naturally, win) but—
God, Kazuya really, really (really really) wants to go pro with Sawamura pitching to him. Kazuya wants to go professional and catch Sawamura’s pitches while the whole world watches.
So he makes a list, it’s a jumbled mess because he’s five seconds from closing his eyes and falling unconscious.
It goes like this:
things to do after koshien:
get drafted
take sawamura to see dad and mum
find a place near his team training grounds
has to be two bedrooms
invite sawamura to live with him once he graduates
play baseball with sawamura eijun for the rest of his life
(stop sawamura from wearing that stupid shirt ever again)
Immediately after, darkness consumes him, and the scent of summer oddly smells ten times stronger in his room.
They make it to the finals and the third years’ summer ends with a close game.
On a day where the trees are a magnificent orange and yellow, they venture into a cemetery with flowers in hand. His mum meets his partner—both on the field and in life. Eijun sobs his way through different stories about Kazuya and them as a battery: we defeated some really tough monsters together, ma’am!
His dad shows Eijun at least ten photo albums, and they coo at how small Kazuya used to be. Eijun throws a glare in Kazuya’s direction because he’s managed to breach 180 centimetres while his boyfriend hasn’t grown a single centimetre taller (yet).
When Eijun says he’s way too unfair right, Toku-san? his father only smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes like it used to, but Kazuya finds it nostalgic all the same.
The stars in Nagano do live up to the expectations placed by their very noisy spokesperson. Kazuya finds out what it’s like to live with a family who shows their love in such an outwardly fashion. It’s not bad, but he doesn’t mind what he already has either.
He gets drafted to the Yakult Swallows and rents an apartment in Chiyoda. The station is three minutes away.
Kazuya graduates and all he remembers is sakura petals and a snotty Eijun wailing in his ear.
Eijun visits his apartment way more often than he should. Kazuya always opens the door for him anyway.
(Kuramochi visits more often than Kazuya wants him to. He pretends he’s not home when there’s a familiar banging on his front door.)
A quarter of Kazuya’s clothes have gone missing, and he can only laugh as he finds them tucked away inside one of Eijun’s boxes when he moves in.
Because by some kind of ridiculous fate (and hard work, so much of it), since Eijun is constantly chasing after him while Kazuya patiently waits—
Eijun is one of the new players on the Yakult Swallows.
And not only has Eijun amassed his clothes, Kazuya finds out one day that there’s more of that stupid training shirt Haruichi convinced Eijun to buy.
This time though, Kazuya doesn’t have to hold back when he smirks, remarking, “it’s great that you have so many of these, huh?”
Eijun’s face bursts into flames, and he feels like a crackling fire under Kazuya. This is the person Kazuya will get to catch for again. This is the person Kazuya wants to play baseball with forever.
Even though it’s so awfully cringey of Kazuya, every single kiss shared between them in their home, feels like a strikeout each time. Kazuya can’t get enough of it.
Miyuki Kazuya can’t get enough of Sawamura Eijun who spends most of his days distracting him by being so effortlessly charming. He doesn’t even realize just how greedy Kazuya gets with him.
Oh well, Kazuya hums, pressing his fingers onto Eijun’s exposed waist because he’s going running in that damn shirt (blue today, of course he has them in rainbow colours and coordinated for different exercises)—their team members can remind Eijun that it looks like he’s getting mauled every day.
In true Kazuya fashion, he’ll add on to the teasing because nobody knows, and it’s fun watching Eijun squirm for help while they comment that his boyfriend is ravenous, dude, are you okay?
Eijun will raise an eyebrow at Kazuya as if to repeat the question: Are you okay?
Excellent, Kazuya will grin.
They’ll head home, laughing and laughing until Eijun scolds him for not holding back and for leaving marks in places the team will absolutely comment on!
Kazuya will only shrug. Dare him to question whose fault it really is.
(Kazuya gets distracted, but once Eijun joins the team, his batting power improves tremendously. His catching prowess increases in tandem with Eijun’s pitching skills.
They get labelled the unstoppable rookie battery of the Swallows.
He frames up all the articles about them, they go along with all the group pictures of the Seidou Baseball Club and their respective family photos.
It’s impossible to imagine a life where this life doesn’t happen, with Eijun resting on his shoulder while they admire the new displays.
“I’m glad I came to Seidou.” Eijun hooks a finger around Kazuya’s own.
“I’m glad you came to Seidou.” Kazuya repeats the sentiment.
Eijun smiles against his neck. His grin is infectious while he mumbles a follow up, “I’m glad you caught my pitches when we went against Azuma-san.”
Kazuya holds Eijun’s hand properly, thumb brushing against the back of it. A reminder that these are the hands creating such beautiful works of art with him.
“I love catching them.”
I love you, Kazuya doesn’t say. He rarely does. But he suspects Eijun already knows when he twirls Kazuya around, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning in.
“I love you too!” Eijun proclaims it sweetly and loud enough for both of them.)