Chapter Text
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jun grumbles to himself as he tucks his arms into his team jersey, which offers up little protection against the chilly March winds.
But the cold is the last thing on his mind as he notices a very familiar face take first base for the start of the college baseball all-star game. “That bastard actually made the show.”
“Who?” asks one of his teammates from Kansai University, who is not as willing as Jun to brave the unseasonably frigid weather in order to show off his team’s jersey. “The guy you’re glaring daggers at?” He points at first base, where Yuuki Tetsuya is quarterbacking the infielder warmup routine.
“I’m not glaring!” Jun snaps as he crosses his arms, rubbing feeling into his goosebump-riddled flesh. “Be a man and show off your jersey, Ishihara.”
Ishihara laughs as he zips up his jacket. “I prefer to be a man without pneumonia, and it ain’t getting any warmer, dude.”
Jun mentally notes that there’s no way he’s putting on a coat now, but he turns his attention back to the diamond and where his old high school friend, who he hasn’t seen face to face in nearly three years or spoken to in almost two, barks out orders on the field to the other players. He’s not even surprised when several of them jump to comply.
“Attaboy,” Jun murmurs under his breath with a curt nod. “Show ‘em how it’s done.”
It’s not much of a shock to see the captain’s mark on Tetsu’s jersey, nor is it all that strange to see that none of his teammates question his orders. Tetsu’s always been like that, Jun thinks. Solid, strong, reliable, and willing to work harder than anybody to stay that way. It what made Tetsu the best captain he’s ever played under, including his own university team’s captain, who is stretching his shoulders in left field between practice flies.
However, as much as he associates Tetsu with baseball, it isn’t what Jun thinks about as he sees those broader-than-he-remembers shoulders curve back to fire a rocket of a strike to third base. No, Jun recalls the long nights of interminably bad shogi, the Saturday evenings sneaking off the campus to hang out at Tetsu’s house until they pass out in the middle of their Mortal Kombat tournament, and harassing the vending machines until their bellies were sloshing with way too much iced tea.
Yet with all they had shared at Seidou, the thing Jun dwells on the most was the part of their relationship that Tetsu had never known about — the part where Jun wanted something he was sure his best friend could never give.
Being in love with Yuuki Tetsuya is a trying affair. If Jun had shrouded hints of his true feelings in baseball, he thinks his long-time crush and even longer-term friend might have understood. But when it came to feelings off the field, Tetsu is about as sharp as a box of baseballs and twice as dense.
Jun had tried everything. The stereotypical confession in the shoe locker, which Tetsu had never read because he ‘had no time for such things’. Chocolates for Valentine’s Day, homemade courtesy of his sisters, which Tetsu had shared with his younger brother because he felt bad Masashi hadn’t received any.
So Jun had given up on the effort and resigned himself to the fact that his friend would never be anything other than just that. Yet as he watches Tetsu’s reliable strength propel the ‘home’ all-star team to a thrilling victory, he wonders if there is a chance left.
A punch in the arm stirs Jun from his thoughts. “Oi, Isashiki, we’re heading to the locker rooms to see Captain-san,” Ishihara grumbles as he pokes a knee into Jun’s thigh. “Move it.”
Frozen limbs grateful for the activity, Jun follows the rest of his team to the players’ hallway and hangs out outside the door, his mind wandering back to his previous train of thought. He nearly jumps out of his skin when a hand claps his shoulder.
“You never call anymore,” Tetsu says with a crooked smile.
Jun’s jaw drops as the rest of him reacts of its own accord, pulling Tetsu into a vice-like embrace. “Neither do you, ya bastard,” Jun croaks as he takes in Tetsu’s unforgettable aura for the first time in three years.
When they pull away, they talk about baseball because Jun doesn’t have to struggle to respond. He still doesn’t have a real reply for why he doesn’t call Tetsu anymore, because the truth would probably stop their little reunion dead in its tracks. ‘I wanted to forget about you’ isn’t the kind of reception Jun wants to unload onto someone who he truly does miss.
However, Tetsu grows quiet as he looks around. “I think they left without me.”
Glancing around for signs of his own teammates, Jun scowls. “So did mine.”
“Your ride home is a lot longer than mine, though.” Tetsu scratches his chin and says, “Do you have any classes this weekend?”
Jun shakes his head. “Not until Monday afternoon. We were all going to hang out in the city for the weekend.”
Tetsu grins. “Would you like to come home with me?”
Something flips in Jun’s stomach as he ekes out a, “Sure, whatever.”
They head for the nearby train stop and take the achingly familiar route to the Seidou train stop, where they head one block in the opposite direction of the school to a place where, other than Seidou, Jun had spent more of his time as a teenager than anywhere else including his parents’ house.
The outside of the larger-than-average suburban house looks exactly the same as Jun remembers, and inside is no different. Every picture frame, every rug, every piece of furniture is right where it always has been, and when he calls out a soft, “I’m home,” instead of, “Pardon the intrusion,” it feels right.
In the kitchen, Jun sees Masashi hunched over the table, glaring at his literature book. Snorting, Jun remarks, “Retirement sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Kantoku makes it sound so easy when he explains the assignment,” Masashi grumbles as he scrawls a few lines in his notebook.
Tetsu leans on Masashi’s shoulder and points out a few things on the worksheet, explaining them in a way that even Jun’s own rusty literature skills can process. The sound of the pen jetting across paper fills the room, and with a satisfied smile, Tetsu leads Jun upstairs to his old room.
Just like the rest of the house, Tetsu’s space remains unchanged by the passage of time, save for the lack of his school jacket hanging on the closet door.
Jun flops on the bed and covertly searches for Tetsu’s earthy scent in the covers. Yet he only comes up with the smell of fabric softener, he notices as he buries his face to hide his embarrassment. He wonders how many shoujo manga writers have actually tried to smell someone in a blanket, especially a neat freak like Tetsu.
“Are you okay?” Tetsu asks, prompting Jun to blindly grab a pillow and hurl it in the general direction of Tetsu’s voice.
“Fine.” His reply is muffled by the blanket, and for a second, he wonders if it’s completely impossible for a freak meteor strike to put him out of his misery.
Glad his cheeks are probably still ruddy from the cold rather than from the continuous stream of ridiculous thoughts parading around in his head, Jun sits up and shrouds himself in the bedspread. “Nah, just kinda cold.”
Tetsu frowns as he reaches out and takes Jun’s hand into his own. “You’re freezing. Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?”
“It’s a long, stupid story,” Jun chokes out as he tries not to choke on the knot in his throat, which tightens every moment Tetsu’s skin is in contact with his own.
Well, that sucks, Jun muses at this realization. Even if his brain has been trained to phase out his stupid crush on Tetsu, the rest of him has clearly decided to do whatever it wishes. Letting out a long, shuddering exhale, he braces himself for what is coming as Tetsu holds up Jun’s hand and bathes it in a warm pulse of breath.
“There,” Tetsu says with a bob of the head and a smile. He whips off his hoodie in a swift motion and drops it onto Jun, wriggling it until Jun’s entire torso is encased in its voluminous heat. “All better.”
Heart hammering in his chest, Jun’s jaw drops as he gawks at Tetsu, barely cognizant of the cold hands wrapped tightly against his torso. “You fuckin’ nerd,” he blurts, tugging the hood over his face to hide himself from Tetsu’s self-satisfied stance.
Tetsu chuckles and sits on the bed next to Jun. “I missed you.” He lists over and bumps their shoulders together. “We need to spend more time together.”
“What?” Jun’s reply is muffled by the hoodie, his widening eyes obscured by it, as well. “You want to — what?”
Baseball-roughened fingers reach under the hem of the hood and lift it away from Jun’s face. There is an odd, pensive look on Tetsu’s face that Jun remembers being so rare for his easygoing high school companion. “You’re my best friend, Jun.”
Jun averts his gaze and he returns the shoulder bump. “Dork.”
The rest of the evening flies by in a flurry of video games and pizza and catching up with each other’s lives. Jun shares the scant highlights of his business degree, while Tetsu gives one word answers about his pursuit of his teaching degree. Tetsu lights up, however, when Jun asks about Masashi’s final year at Seidou, positively glowing at the fact that Masashi had managed to accrue more home runs than any other Seidou player in the past twenty years.
The rest of the weekend passes in similar fashion, with Tetsu’s mother overjoyed to make use of the guest futon again for her ‘favorite houseguest’. When the time comes for Jun to scrape himself out of bed on Monday morning to catch an early bullet train headed back to Osaka, though, his entire body feels heavy from the inside out.
“I’ll go with you to the station,” Tetsu offers as he pads into the bedroom from the kitchen, bearing two steaming mugs of coffee.
Taking the offered drink, trying not to smile when he tastes just the right amount of sugar and cream blended in, Jun says, “You don’t have to. That’s almost on the other side of town.”
Tetsu sits on the chair at his desk and takes a deep drag of his coffee. “I don’t mind. I don’t know when I’ll get to see you again.”
Further protest dies in Jun’s throat. Instead, he says, “I’d like that.”
However, the bus ride to Tokyo Station passes in almost complete silence, with only the sound of tired passengers shuffling to their seats and the telltale hum of the engine to drown out the quiet. But when they both disembark at the train station and Jun’s fingers clench down on the strap of his duffle bag, he doesn’t have to wonder why Tetsu had insisted on coming.
“I get one weekend off every month from practice,” Jun prefaces, gazing up at the departure board and seeing his ride scheduled to depart in twenty minutes. “Kantoku figures we’ll be more focused if we can cut loose here and there.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Tetsu looks up at the departure board, as well, hands behind his back as he bounces on the balls of his feet. “We have something like that.”
Jun nods. “Second weekend of the month.”
“Same.”
“And then there’s New Year’s.”
“New Year’s.”
Turning to face Tetsu, Jun says, “I could spare Saturdays as long as I spend Sunday at home.”
Tetsu’s face is impassive as he repeats, “Saturdays.”
With a growl, Jun hefts up a foot and plants it into Tetsu’s backside. “Stop being a freak and answer me, damn it!” It starts as a low rumble, but Jun knows Tetsu is laughing at him yet cannot fight off the smile tugging at his own lips. “Nerd.”
“I’d like that,” Tetsu finally responds. He steps in front of Jun and eases the strap of the duffle from his shoulder. “I’m glad we got to do this. I really missed you.”
Clapping Jun on the shoulder, Tetsu backs away and gives him a small wave. “I’ll see you next month then.”
“Yeah,” Jun breathes as he stares after Tetsu’s rapidly retreating form. “Yeah.”
Shaky legs carry him onto his train, and as it speeds down back to his home away from home, Jun can’t even believe that one bit at a time, something he had thought he’d shut out of his life is coming back to him. Something he can’t help but look forward to.