knife-totheheart

[knife-totheheart]

Floral Notes

Series: Ookiku Furikabutte

Pairing: Sakaeguchi/Suyama

Rating: General

Summary: Medical School AU! A very happy belated birthday to asokkalypsenow! I hope you like your present! I can’t believe this is my first and only Sakasuya fic.

"Home!" Shouji called out into the tiny one-bedroom apartment as he slipped his shoes off in their entryway. He put a hand over his eyes as the afternoon sunlight shone straight through the window opposite him. The small green plants on the sill stretched towards the light--those must be new. Direct sunlight.  

He readjusted his backpack on his shoulder and walked further in. Yuuto stood at the stove, their dinner fragrant and wafting mouthwatering smells throughout their small living space. A muffled "Welcome back" was thrown over Yuuto's shoulder too late, as Shouji leaned down for a quick peck on the other's cheek. Shouji could practically hear the smile as Yuuto breathed out and he turned to put his things down in the corner. Laptop, notebook, textbook, question book...he dug around further.  

"Time to eat--don't bother with that now, you just got back!" Yuuto lightly scolded as he untied the apron that hung delicately around his hips. Shouji looked up and realized that Yuuto hadn’t even looked back, yet know what he was doing. A small smirk lifted a corner of his mouth. Was it possible to know someone too well? He withdrew his empty hand from his bag and washed his hands at the sink, then sat at their table. Fresh tulips in every color sat off to the side, brightening up the browns and whites of their kitchenette. The vibrancy of the flowers spotting the apartment and Yuuto himself made their cozy home a much more appealing place to study than the dull, musty library after spending the better part of a day cooped up in an anatomy lab. The floral scents were far more inviting than the acrid smell of formaldehyde that seemed to cling to his classmates.  

He reached out and gently rubbed a petal between two fingers, enjoying the velvety feel as Yuuto brought over his plates, small smile on his face, clearly proud of his dinner spread. Shouji tried to cook for them each night until Yuuto insisted that he had more important things to do--like study to be a doctor--than cook for them every night. Yuuto didn't protest though when Shouji beat him home and to the kitchen. Shouji called it his relaxation time, a time to not have to think about school for a little bit. Yuuto didn't want to take that from him entirely.  

Their usual dinner chit-chat centered around their respective day, Yuuto gushing about the wisteria he saw on the way to the shop today. The tulips that arrived today were too pretty not to bring a few home--and he was very much looking forward to the irises over the summer.  

"I was thinking of learning proper ikebana too...you wouldn't mind if I brought home the results to put around the apartment, would you?" Yuuto asked teasingly, knowing the answer before the question fully left his mouth.  

"As long as there's still room for me to put my books when I get home," Shouji replied before taking his last bite of rice and stacking up his bowls and plate, then doing the same for Yuuto. He got up from the table and plugged the sink, letting the water run warm and submerging all of the dinnerware.  

"What if that was my evil plan all along? No more study space." Yuuto pushed himself off of the chair and came over to stand next to Shouji. Even if they both grew since the first time they met in high school, Shouji still had a good 8 cm on him. Yuuto grabbed a dry, clean towel from one of the drawers and held a hand out expectantly, Shouji placing a newly clean and rinsed bowl into it.  

"Then I would have to stay at school to study and possibly torture Takaya."  

"Leave him alone--you know how uptight he is. Then whenever Ren's home, he has to deal with Takaya being an absolute wreck." Yuuto rubbed the dishes dry as Shouji handed them to him, stacking them neatly on the counter.  

"Hey, it's not my fault he wants to get into something so competitive. I just go about my studying like everyone else."

"You tell him you're doing all of these different things to study to make him feel like he's not doing enough."

"Ah, he'll be fine. He aces every exam anyway."

"You're terrible, Shouji," Yuuto scolds gently, no bite behind it as he glances at Shouji sidelong and can't help the small smile that creeps onto his lips.  

He placed the sponge on the edge of the sink and pulled the plug out of the drain, grabbed a few of the suds before they're sucked down and flicked them at Yuuto. "You don't have to deal with Takaya saying he's going to fail every exam when he has less questions marked wrong this whole semester than I do on a single test." Yuuto flinched back from the suds out of reflex and bumped his shoulder playfully against Shouji's.  

"Go easy on him. How long have you known him?"  

"Mmm, not as long as you, but long enough to know how to push his buttons," he replied with a grin as he reached around Yuuto to grab the dishes and put them away in the top cabinets. When the pile of ceramic dishes was out of his hands he leaned down and chastely brushed their lips together.  

"Thanks for dinner, it was really good." He turned away and towards his backpack once more, pulling out a large stack of index cards.

After so long, Yuuto could still feel that fluttery sensation starting in his stomach and floating upwards to his chest, radiating warmth throughout his body. He paused, unable to move as the memory of their moving into this apartment flooded back to him: the uncertainty of living together, wondering how often he would even see Shouji after hearing so many horror stories about medical student life. Between that and starting up his flower shop, they didn't see much of each other those first couple of months. Shouji got into the swing of things and Yuuto got a handle on how to run the business. Shouji began studying more at home, Yuuto brought his clerical tasks to work on at their kitchen table. Since things settled, they tried to eat dinner together at least half of the week. They made sure to talk about their days, any goings on with mutual friends, funny stories from the day, and sometimes, in Shouji's case, warnings about not to wait up for him around exam time. Sometimes Yuuto would go to sleep alone and wake up alone, completely unsure if Shouji ever made it home at all. If nothing else, he was glad that at least Takaya was going through the same thing--he wouldn't kid himself by saying he could empathize with what Shouji was experiencing. Then again, Takaya wasn't the most empathetic person he had ever met.  

Yuuto was snapped out of his thoughts when a hand waved in front of his face and a pile of index cards placed in his own hands.

"It's Thursday night, remember?" Shouji prompted, practically collapsing onto their lumpy secondhand sofa. He scoots over to make room for Yuuto and pats the seat next to him. Their Thursday evening tradition would be upheld as he sat down next to Shouji and shuffled the cards. Shouji immediately took his usual spot by leaning over until his head lay comfortably on Yuuto's shoulder.  

"You can see the cards if you stay like that," Yuuto protested, almost on cue.

"I'll close my eyes. It's to help me study, why would I cheat?" Yuuto could hear Shouji suppressing a smirk.  

He was having a hard time suppressing his own smile. "Because of the reward system." He placed the pile on his left side and pulled the first card. "'Branches of the celiac trunk'. Of course there's some motive to cheat." He strained to look down to make sure Shouji's eyes were indeed closed.

"'Left gastric, splenic, hepatic.'" Shouji shifted slightly to lean up (eyes still closed) and receive a small peck on the lips, only for Yuuto to dodge out of the way.  

"Ah, ah, ah. You didn't answer it right." Shouji's eyes blinked open in confusion as Yuuto flipped the card over to show him that the word "common" in "common hepatic artery" had been underlined in red.  

"I was mostly right," Shouji protested.

"Your professors aren't going to think you're 'mostly right' considering there's a common, right and left hepatic artery," Yuuto quipped back, raising an eyebrow as he pointed to the note at the bottom of the index card--a reminder that Shouji had made for himself.  

Shouji sat up, reached over and plucked the index card out of Yuuto's hand, putting it down on his other side. While Yuuto watched in confusion, he didn't have time to fend the other off as Shouji then leaned over and pressed their lips together. The hand not steadying himself against the cushion was brought up to Yuuto's furiously warm face, thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone.  

Yuuto's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded in his ears as his eyes fluttered shut to savor the moment. When Shouji moved away, a small sound of protest leaked from between his lips, hand covering his mouth in embarrassment. He looked up and was certain that Shouji's smile touched from one ear to the other.  

Flustered, Yuuto shoved a hand to Shouji's cheek to avert his gaze for him. "You cheated."

"I didn't. I took an advance on my next right answer." He couldn't stop the small laugh that escaped when he saw the small pout on the other's face. Yuuto gathered up the cards that slowly spilled over onto the couch from the cushion movement. He nearly dropped them in surprise when a heavy weight settled in his lap.  

"This way I definitely can't look," Shouji explained from Yuuto's lap. He couldn't see the expression on Shouji's face, but there was no way he wasn't being made fun of.  

Yuuto continued with the flashcards, a hand subconsciously coming up to brush through the short buzz cut, fingers playing over his ear lobe and neck.  

Shouji's responses became quieter and more delayed. The sun set long before.  

"Shouji?" He barely whispered. No response. Shouji's chest rose and fell slowly. He smiled and shook his head.  

Leaning over slightly, as not to disturb him, Yuuto examined the now relaxed features of Shouji's face. He traced the now-more-prominent bags under his eyes--a testament to his late nights recently. Seeing him now, Yuuto started to appreciate just how tense Shouji appeared when awake. Had he really gotten used to Shouji looking so worn out already?  

He gently swung his legs up while supported Shouji's head and grabbed a nearby pillow and shoved it where his thighs had rested. Shouji was difficult to wake with 3 alarms set right next to his ear, much to Yuuto's chagrin. He didn't budge as Yuuto moved the stack of index cards to the floor. Yuuto pulled the large blanket off the back of the couch and laid it over the both of them, curling up under it and against Shouji, warmth immediately overwhelming him. He closed his eyes and laid an arm across Shouji's chest.

He would follow through on Shouji's study rewards in the morning.

[knife-totheheart]

Green and Gold

Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte

Characters: All main 10 eventually. 

Summary: Demon Hunter AU. They can't let the mistakes of hundreds of years before happen again.

Warnings: Major character death in the prologue. Mentions of blood.

This is just the prologue. The upcoming chapters should definitely be more lighthearted. Hope you enjoy! 

Over here on AO3

[knife-totheheart]

let's do that thing the cool kids are doing

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox and i will write the next five.

[knife-totheheart]

[Title]: A Melody Pure

[Series]: Ookiku Furikabutte

[Pairing]: SakAbe

[Notes]: Set in Bookshop!AU but now we focus on a different pairing...

A gift for Oofuri Secret Santa for phixuscarus! 

He can remember the day clearly.  

  Walking around to the local businesses, cards in a pocket and carrying a tray filled with small terracotta pots of jasmine flowers, he smiled and asked to be kept in mind should anyone in the business need flowers. Bowing out of the bookshop, lingering perhaps a few seconds too long to watch the handsome owner place his flowerpot next to the register at the counter, he looked down at the tray and saw a solitary pot left. One more shop to visit. He was tired, and his cheeks were slightly sore from smiling so much. First impressions were everything. Sakaeguchi shivered slightly at the early autumn chill in the air. The last place to go was the coffee shop. Maybe he could warm up with a cup of hot chocolate. The thought made him forget the fatigue in his face as he smiled to himself.  

  The coffee shop was small and a couple of streets over from his flower shop. Plain-looking from the outside, compared to the other places he had already visited. A simple sign in the window, no flashy colors, no outside displays. Inside were a few customers sitting at the small tables. Some looked like college students, others like businesspeople on their breaks, sneaking in a quick check of their emails while sipping on their drinks. It had a sophisticated, modern feel to it with dark wooden countertops and cold metal tables and chairs, and more natural than artificial light.   

  A small tap on his left shoulder made him jump, nearly sending the single small pot flying. He stammered a quick and flustered apology for spacing out as he turned to see a man in a dark apron, looking confused by his reaction. A quick glance at the nametag told Sakaeguchi all he needed to know, as he offered the lonely jasmine blossom, tucking the now-empty tray under an arm and offering his business card, head bowed low, both hands extended. As he felt it leave his hands, he realized he never got a good look at the face of the person receiving it from him.   

  The person looking down at him cocked an eyebrow, sharp angle of his jaw leading to his unsmiling lips, not unkind, merely questioning. His dark hair was short and unkempt, but overall, he was rather intimidating. Abe Takaya.   

  He wouldn’t learn until a few weeks later that the flutter in his chest right then was his heart skipping a beat.   

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————  

It was the same routine every morning.   

  The coffee shop would open extremely early—that was when people needed their coffee the most, after all— and Abe would deal with the morning rush of customers. Sakaeguchi would come in when things died down and Abe would make him his usual half-hot chocolate, half-coffee mix. Once a week, he would bring in a  box with small vases of seasonal flowers to put on each table in the café. He would rotate through various colors and kinds of flowers, pink cosmos one week, purple nadeshiko the next, blue asagao after those, and so on.   

  If Abe had a spare moment, he would take a quick break and lean against the counter while Sakaeguchi sipped his own drink, both discussing any recent events within their small community of young entrepreneurs. It always seemed to take a bit of work, but once Abe warmed up, it was difficult for Sakaeguchi to look him in the eyes. The small smile accentuated his strong facial features, and his heart rate quickened.

  He found out that Abe also had a fondness for baseball, having played in high school like he had. Early autumn had been a time of much excited chatter as they followed the various teams through the Fall Tournament. Abe’s eyes lit up with an eagerness rarely seen from the coffee shop owner, but Sakaeguchi couldn’t help but think that look suited him much better than his usual neutral frown. He must have still worked out, the way the muscles in his arms, back, shoulders, tightened and loosened as he reached out to grab various syrups, teas, and coffee beans while he worked, before he realized Sakaeguchi was standing and waiting for their usual morning meeting. Sakaeguchi made no effort to interrupt him.

  Sometimes Abe would be in a particularly sour mood, snapping at his barista, grabbing mugs and cups with a near-palpable annoyance, slamming them down with more force than necessary. Sakaeguchi could almost see the effort he was giving to not snap at him too, when he came in. Sometimes he would be in a particularly cheery mood, in which his face was more what other people would term “lukewarm”. Sakaeguchi knew when he saw that that it was a good day to talk.

  One day, Sakaeguchi arrived a few minutes later than usual after a frantic and rushed morning routine. He had slept through his first alarm and didn’t awaken to his backup until it was almost time for him to leave, if he wanted to make it to the shop on time. His head throbbed, eyelids weighed a ton, nose stuffed and there was a distinct tickle in the back of his throat that caused him to cough in an attempt to relieve it. He couldn’t afford to stay home with all of the business coming in from the word spreading around town. On his way out the door, he had grabbed a surgical mask from the small box buried behind various toiletries, hidden away from the last time he had gotten sick. Abe took one look at him, frowned disapprovingly, then went back behind the counter without a word to presumably bring Sakaeguchi back his usual drink. Instead, he brought back a cup with a steaming transparent green liquid inside, and two ibuprofen tablets.

  "You shouldn’t go to work if you feel as awful as you look," he pointed out, shoving both towards Sakaeguchi, who pulled down the mask and blew a bit on the tea to cool it. He popped both tablets in his mouth and took a sip of the tea to help them down, a strong flavor trailing down his throat with them.

  "Don’t sugar coat it at all." His sarcasm had a touch more bite to it than he had wanted. "Is that peppermint?"

  "Helps to numb your throat and clear up any congestion. Some people think it’s antiviral too." Abe shrugged at the last statement, obviously not quite believing it himself. Sakaeguchi took another sip of the tea, letting the steam rise up to his nose—he could feel his airways start to open up more, able to smell a bit of the peppermint. He sighed with the temporary relief.

  Abe half-turned, most likely to get back to work, but he stopped and looked back at Sakaeguchi, a strange look in his eyes as his brow furrowed.

  "If you get any worse, you should go home. You’re flushed." He lingered for another couple of seconds, but Sakaeguchi’s only reaction was to look up at him and nod.

  "Thank you, Abe."

  He wasn’t sure if he had heard, but Sakaeguchi had to get to work right then anyway. He quickly left the coffee shop, holding the cup of tea with both hands and letting it warm his fingertips. He paused when he was out of sight of the shop windows and shook his head, ignoring the ache, trying to calm the heat rising into his face that had nothing to do with fever, and everything to do with realizing the look of concern and worry Abe had worn before making the tea especially for him.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————  

Sakaeguchi backed out of the shop, shutting the door carefully after double checking the temperature settings inside the cooler. People were starting to order custom Christmas wreaths. He had to make sure everything was kept in proper order and at appropriate temperatures and humidities to minimize damage.   

  He locked the door with a sigh, thinking about all of the arranging work he had for the next day, since the delivery came late. It all had to be done by tomorrow. He was starting to think it would be a good idea to get in early. His breath escaped him in a small, visible puff. A chill ran through him and he pulled his scarf tight around his neck. Winter was settling in too quickly for his liking. Soon it would start to snow. He was definitely more down when there was so little sunlight, but the bright moon reflecting off the flakes and the hush that seemed to befall wherever was blanketed was peaceful and calming. The thought perked him up as he readjusted the strap to his bag sitting across his shoulder and he turned from the door to begin his walk home in the dark.   

  His heart hammered into his throat when he noticed a shadowy figure not two meters away from the door of his shop standing against the display window, arm extended and a steaming cup of something was practically shoved in his face. His eyes flicked up to see the dark eyes reflecting surprise in the moonlight. The figure’s unoccupied hand pulled down at the scarf covering the lower half of his face.   

  "Hey, it’s just me, calm down."   

  Sakaeguchi sighed in relief, hunching over to put a hand to his chest, as though it would slow his quickened heartbeat.   

  "You could have said something…!" he cried out, adrenaline starting to subside. Abe must have been standing there that whole time he had been locking up.   

  Sakaeguchi straightened up and looked into Abe’s concerned eyes, his own traveling to follow his arm down to a steaming cup of…

  “It’s hot chocolate. Colder than usual today.”

  “Ah, thanks! You didn’t have to do that,” he replied, his keyring jingling as he shoved it into his bag and gratefully received the cup, instantly warming his fingers. “Wait, what are you doing here so late anyway?” The coffee shop always closed a lot earlier than his own—most of the business was done in the morning anyway.

  Abe didn’t make eye contact as he rubbed the back of his neck. “End of the year things and inventory. I just got out a few minutes ago and thought I would stop by to see if you were still here before I headed home.”

  "Yeah well…I ended up staying later than usual." He took a sip of the hot chocolate—just barely cool enough to sip slowly and not scorch his tongue. It felt good going down. It warmed him from the inside out and he let out a content hum. "Do you live around here?"

  "Not too far. A half hour walk past the clothing shop and the Italian restaurant that way," Abe replied, pointing a fingered glove in the general direction that Sakaeguchi had been about to go.

  "We should walk together then! I live that way too." Sakaeguchi took a leading step in that direction and Abe promptly followed suit. They hadn’t had much time to talk in the mornings lately because of the holiday rushes. Everyone seemed to be extra busy with work before the New Year, and so needed more caffeine than usual. Others were busy ordering bouquets and arrangements for their sweethearts for Christmas Eve, giving the flower shop plenty of business in its first holiday season of being open.

  They spoke of the mysterious guy in a beanie that seemed to hang around the bookshop a lot. Sakaeguchi had run into him while talking to Suyama, the bookshop’s owner. He was quite tall and definitely handsome. He seemed to go to the shop quite a bit, and would always appear to be massively uncomfortable, seeing that Sakaeguchi was talking to Suyama. Suyama would always brighten up quite a bit when this mystery-man showed up. He would wave a little, and the mystery-man would go down one of the aisles, never to be seen by Sakaeguchi again that day. One time, however, Sakaeguchi left the shop and paused outside, glancing through the windows to see the mystery-man peek out from around a bookshelf corner. He watched as the two started talking animatedly, and walked away wondering what their relationship was.

  They told each other of silly customer stories, some funny, some vaguely reminiscent enough of their own customers to cause a small headache. Abe spoke of one that seems to come in once a week just to tease him by asking him to change the order at least three times while he’s making it. His jaw tensed and the lines of his face hardened as he mentioned that he could probably tell if there was a freckle out of place on this particular customer’s face, he’s had to look at him so many times. Sakaeguchi couldn’t help but laugh. He could see why this customer might want to tease Abe if he reacted like that, even if he wouldn’t be brave enough to do it himself.

  "So," Abe started, hands in his pocket and looking down at Sakaeguchi. "What are you doing Christmas Eve?"

  He nearly choked on his sip of hot chocolate when it went down the wrong pipe. He hoped his coughing fit would hide his embarrassment as the heat seemed to flare from his core outwards and up to the tips of his ears. This guy…so forward…!

  He stopped coughing and caught his breath, but before he could think of any kind of reply, Abe stepped into his personal space, within centimeters of him, blocking out the moonlight. Sakaeguchi felt a small pressure on either side of his neck and he sharply inhaled.

  "Are you getting sick again? Your face is almost as flushed as that last time," he said softly with what sounded like a hint of annoyance, but the gentle tugging to readjust Sakaeguchi’s scarf suggested otherwise. "And maybe think about earmuffs or a hat or something. You lose a lot of heat through your ears and head."

  Sakaeguchi’s first instinct was to pull away. He was certain Abe could hear his heart pounding nearly out of his chest. He kept his eyes looking at the angle of Abe’s jaw, eyes flicking up to accidentally lock with Abe’s. It was a mistake. It felt as though Abe could read his mind, with how fervently he looked back.

  He’s going to know, he’s going to find out, he’s going to realize….

  And then the pulling stopped, but Abe didn’t move. He lingered for another few seconds that easily could have been an eternity if you asked Sakaeguchi, then moved away, resuming his place on Sakaeguchi’s left side. Without another word, he began walking again, Sakaeguchi left momentarily paralyzed, unsure what to make of what just happened. He snapped out of it, and hastily made up the distance between them, still not able to even look up at the other.

  A few minutes passed in silence.

  "Nothing," Sakaeguchi muttered against the scarf that was now pressing up to his mouth. They were only about 25 meters from his apartment building.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. For Christmas Eve," he said louder and more definitively. The burning feeling in his ears was back. He’d have to consider earmuffs.

  "Oh. I see. Me neither."

  "Ah th-this is me. I’ll see you later!" Sakaeguchi turned into his building without seeing the surprised look on Abe’s face or how his hand had been halfway out of his coat pocket to flag him down one last time.

  ————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————-

It was cold enough for him to feel his cheeks burning from the breeze. A quick scarf readjustment fixed the issue as he chanced a glance up at Abe’s expression. Not particularly enthralled, but definitely not irritated either. Well, if something was wrong, he at least knew Abe wouldn’t make it a secret. His stomach churned with anxiety and a small thrill. It was Christmas Eve, and all around them, couples walked by arm-in-arm, smiling, laughing, chatting. Sakaeguchi couldn’t help but notice it all, hyperaware of how close he was to Abe in this kind of atmosphere. It still made his stomach pleasantly flip, even if they weren’t technically romantically involved like the other pairs. Just two shop owners making their ways home together after a long day of busy work.

  All of the couples coming in was exactly why they were walking together now. The coffee shop was kept open for those wanting a quick reprieve from the cold and something to warm up with. The flower shop was open for a lot of customers that decided to come in last-minute to pick up flowers for their date. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself, because despite not planning properly, it was nice to see that people cared enough to be so frantic about not having a gift.

  He always loved this time of year. It was something to look forward to despite the shorter and darker days.  The holidays meant twinkling strings of lights even when the sun set early and bows and garland adorning many buildings—things that made the same walk to and from the shop new and exciting, almost magical. Winter was not his favorite season, but being inside the shop with the bright lights and colorful blooms had kept his spirits up. That and his daily foray into one local coffee shop.

  Sakaeguchi shivered when he felt something wet hit his ear and something else wet hit his nose. He looked up and grinned as white flakes floated through the sky and towards the ground. He had forgotten to check the weather report that morning and didn’t bring his umbrella with him, but he didn’t mind. Sakaeguchi looked over at Abe and was startled to see that Abe had been watching him.

  "What are you so happy about?"

  "I really like the snow," he replied, unable to contain the smile. "It’s fun to play in and makes it so the cold weather is worth it sometimes."

  "Not very fun when you have to walk through a couple of inches to get to work tomorrow," Abe said with obvious distaste. Sakaeguchi couldn’t help but laugh at the answer he should have by now expected from Abe. They settled back into a comfortable silence, snow slowly collecting in their hair and at one point, even on Abe’s long dark eyelashes, Sakaeguchi couldn’t help but notice.

  The crowd had thinned long ago and it was them and the dark, cold, snow-dusted street, as Sakaeguchi’s apartment building loomed into view. They both paused outside. Sakaeguchi was suddenly now very much aware of how alone they were, and he could feel his face begin to flare once more. He nuzzled his face further into the scarf, hoping to hide his reddening cheeks.

  "Well, have a good Christmas Eve." He managed to get it out without stumbling over the words, even as his heart leapt into his throat merely thinking about the whole situation. He turned and headed towards the stairs that led to his unit. A few steps away and he felt a resistance. He turned to find Abe holding on to his coat sleeve and moving closer.

  Abe gazed down intently at Sakaeguchi, who naturally backed up into the wall behind him after Abe let go of his coat. Sakaeguchi had never seen that intense of a look on Abe before. It was dizzying. There was nowhere left for him to go. Abe leaned an arm on the wall over Sakaeguchi’s head.

  What is he….? He couldn’t. But what else could he be doing? Should I move? Should I leave?

  Abe paused, head tilted slightly, and looked down at Sakaeguchi, their faces centimeters from each other. Their breaths left and mixed together in a visible cloud between them. He didn’t notice how hard he’d been breathing from the adrenaline. Sakaeguchi realized that Abe was giving him a chance to say “no”.

  Sakaeguchi slowly closed the gap between them, pulling down his scarf from his mouth to press their lips together. Abe gently pushed forward with this small gesture of permission, and Sakaeguchi could feel the back of his head touch the wall. Their lips never parted and Sakaeguchi could feel the heat radiating from Abe and warmth from the pit of his stomach spreading throughout his body. His lips slid clumsily over Abe’s and he brought his gloved hands up to grip at either lapel of Abe’s coat. He pulled with enough force that Abe had no choice but to press their bodies closer. His knees felt weak and he was glad he had the wall for support.

  Abe pulled away for air first and looked at a spot above Sakaeguchi’s head. Curious, he too looked up in the same direction. There was Abe’s hand and in it…

  "Mistletoe. Supposed to be good luck when you kiss under it," he murmured, bringing it down to show Sakaeguchi, who flushed a brilliant crimson.

  "I know but, A-Abe did you look that up just…for…" He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. His head was spinning and he felt light.

  Abe nodded.

  "Did you know mistletoe is also a parasite? Likes to feed off of trees and can even take over its host entirely," he continued, as nonchalantly as talking about the weather, looking down at the small plant in his hand.

  Sakaeguchi blinked a couple of times as he processed what Abe just said.

  And burst out laughing.

  He moved off of the wall and leaned forward onto his tiptoes, to plant a firm peck on Abe’s lips.

"Merry Christmas, Abe."

[knife-totheheart]

I made some dna collages.. 

[knife-totheheart]

Title: Keep My Glass Full Until Morning Light

Series: Daiya no Ace

Pairing: Kuramochi/Miyuki

Summary/Warnings: Alcohol mentions, NSFW mentions; Miyuki wished he had drank more. Sorry for my writing. This is part of the collection-ish thing I have going. 

“I’m not even going to ask how you got this.”  

 “Good, you wouldn’t  wanna  know anyway,” Miyuki replied smirk widening as he placed the bott le in between them. He leaned back on his hands, chest puffed out proudly, taking in  Kuramochi’s  reaction.  The shock value by itself was worth the trouble of getting it.   

 Kuramochi  leaned in to grab the bottle, turning it over, as though verifying it were the real thing.  Miyuki guessed he wasn’t sure whether to look disapproving or impressed.  Either suited him fine.   

 “Want some?”   

  “We have early practice tomorrow.”  

 “We always have something. That’s not changing anytime soon. Now’s as good a time as any, especially since it’s the off-season.” Miyuki shrugged. It’s not like they were in the middle of the summer tournament or anything.  “We can make a game out of it.”   

 Miyuki could almost hear  Kuramochi’s  ears perk. A competition.  That  was the way to get him interested in most things.   

 “Fine,  Captain ,  but  you’re  gonna  regret it when you suck tomorrow at practice. We’ll play a fighting game, loser has to take a drink for every round they lose.”   

 Miyuki pulled the bottle out of  Kuramochi’s  hand, letting their fingers brush lightly.   

 "And then we play a few rounds of  shogi , and you drink for every piece the other person captures."   

 He knew where  Kuramochi  had been trying to go with this, but he wasn't going to be the only one drinking tonight. After looking mildly offended at having the tables turned so that they were both on even ground in this, he sighed. "Fine, but the video games first," he insisted, grinning.   

  It wasn't like Miyuki was itching to get obliterated before an early practice. It was something new, something to try. Something to break up their rigid routine. Something to do with  Kuramochi .  

 Kissing, cuddling, sleeping together, jerking each other off...these weren't things you usually did with a "best friend", and of course, Miyuki was not oblivious enough to think otherwise. He was very much aware what they were doing, what was happening. Too aware. Getting this close had not been in the cards for Miyuki Kazuya. Here he was.   

  Sometimes in class he would stare at the back of  Kuramochi's  neck and admire the beginning of the small red blossom peeking out from under the collar. Damn. Guess he would have to be more careful next time.   

  Next time.  

  The concept was strange.  Kuramochi   wanted  to be around him,  wanted  him to come around to his dorm room. He  wanted  to kick out Sawamura  so they could have alone time.  It was something to look forward to after school and practice.    Just the two of them.  As time went on, things seemed to get  less  physical.  Well, less sexual, anyway. There seemed to be  more slow, lazy kissing, laying in each other's arms, talking about nothing of importance. Maybe something funny happened at practice that day. Gossiping about teammates. Agonizing over schoolwork. All while  Kuramochi  lay half on him, cheek pressed into his chest, lacing their fingers together. Like it was perfectly natural. Like they had been doing this for far longer than they actually have.   

 There was no way  Kuramochi  couldn't feel Miyuki's heart hammering in his chest  when they were pressed so close . He didn't want to start feeling this way. Miyuki signed up for the "messing around" part of this arrangement, not the "hot under the collar, warm, fluttery feeling in his chest" part. Miyuki Kazuya didn't know how to handle relationships like this, and  hadn't  intend ed  to learn so soon. It was suffocating.  Kuramochi's  eyes  could pierce through him and see everything--behind his cockiness and self-assurance into his uncertainty and doubt. And when he felt the most vulnerable,  Kuramochi's  arms would wrap around him, warm presence calming his insecurities.   

 Miyuki never really had anyone close to him. Something about him drove others away, even from the time he was younger. He never figured out what.  He learned to convince himself that it was fine--as long as people were standing around him on the diamond, willing to listen to his game-calling, his lead, his direction, what more could he ask for? He was playing baseball all the time anyway. He was on the field for three seasons of the year and training indoors for the last. Teammates were all he ever needed. He could connect to people between the white lines. That was enough for him.  

 Until he was overcome by the urge to kiss  Kuramochi   Youichi  just to see his reaction. That was the best explanation he could come up with to explain what he did  that night by the vending machine. Like his body moved on its own.   

 And now, Miyuki felt an ache in his chest when  Kuramochi  wasn't near. An itch that was only soothed when he could put an arm around his neck, wide grin spreading on his own face. Or a hand could trail down his arm and lace their fingers together. Or he could feel their warm skin press together, too hot, scent heady, breaths unsteady.   

 And then he hesitated. He reigned in his smile to a smirk, tamped down his pounding heart to a regular rate, inhaled slowly  to rid himself of the extra heat in his face.   

 The truth was, he was afraid. He was afraid that he was misinterpreting the situation. He was afraid of  Kuramochi  not  really  wanting there to be a "next time".   

  He was afraid of messing this up. Whatever "this" was. So wasn't it better to just make light of everything instead? If it wasn't as important, it wouldn't hurt so badly if it didn't work out.  When  it didn't work out, he reminded himself. Because no one could stand being around Miyuki Kazuya for too long. And that was something he kept in the back of his mind.   

 He didn't want to admit that  Kuramochi  made him feel more complete than he could put into words .   

  The cringe from the burning sake earned Miyuki  Kuramochi's  signature cackle and a promise to get him used to the taste after he was beaten a few more times. His head began to swim after round five--the sake started to go down like water . His cheeks burned and he started laughing at small things while watching his character on screen get its ass kicked. His attention wandered throughout the room. The video game console. The desks that were never occupied. Books that looked like they hadn't been opened in a while. Eyes drifted to the top bunk bed where he had spent many nights as of late. He felt tingly and light.   

 "Hey! If you keep spacing out, you're going to be out of commission tomorrow from a hangover,  Captain."   

  Another laugh escaped him as he put down the controller, "Game Over" flashing on the screen. He took one more drink without a flinch and put the cup down.   

  "Now we play something  I'm  decent at."  

  "You sure you can still play like that?" It was a taunt more than real concern.  Kuramochi's  lips looked especially soft.   

  "I can still kick your ass,  You-chan ." The nickname elicited a brilliant red flush--it was usually uttered to rile up the other, kissing turning into biting, touching into scratching, soft sighs into stifled gasps.   

 Reveling in the flustered silence, Miyuki  set up the board and pieces he had grabbed earlier from his room. It was soon apparent that mildly impaired by alcohol or not, Miyuki was vastly superior at this game and soon,  Kuramochi  had caught up to Miyuki in alcohol consumed in less than half the time it took for Miyuki to drink it earlier. His upper lip had curled in disgust beautifully at the first sip.  

 "How do people drink this crap?"   

  "If you keep drinking it, the taste goes away," Miyuki suggested,  ruthlessly  refilling the bottom of the cup with the clear liquid. They weren't done with this game yet.   

  He could feel his concentration fading as the person in front of him garnered more and more of his attention--the way his arm moved when he reached out, the flex of muscle as he brought a hand to his chin in thought, the deep red slowly spread across his cheeks and Miyuki unashamedly stripped him down in his mind's eye, reconstructing from times past.  A comment about his staring made him laugh and re-focus on the board.  

 The room has been oddly quiet. Everything in his body was telling him nothing would feel better right now than to grab  Kuramochi , take off his clothes, and grind their bodies together.   

  Miyuki leans over the board, a few pieces being knocked aside, forgotten. He crushed their lips together, hand coming up under  Kuramochi's shirt, stabilizing his back so  he  didn't fall backwards entirely. A split second of no response, and Miyuki could feel lips   moving against his own. He could smell the alcohol between the two of them, senses dulled to it otherwise. A quick glance at the bottle half-empty not a meter away told him all he needed to know. Too much. He wasn't much concerned about tomorrow morning.   

 His center of gravity was thrown off, pressure shoving on his chest as they broke apart, Miyuki landing hard on one of his hands to keep himself from falling to the floor. A hand swiped at his mouth where  Kuramochi's  had been.   

  "What gives?"  It came out petulantly, pout pulling down on his mouth.   

 Kuramochi  doesn't speak right away, pulling himself up and crossing his legs, eyes ablaze, looking right through Miyuki. Miyuki felt a chill crawl up his spine. The eye contact lasted a split second and  Kuramochi  broke it first .   

 "What am I to you?"   

 Miyuki could feel that cold chill return, slowly freezing him from the outside and marching inwards towards his stomach, the bottom of which seemed to have dropped out. He suddenly wished he was incoherent--he didn't want to have to answer this. Not now.   His mind actually jumped to the possibility of escaping, but a certain someone sat between him and the exit.   

 Shit.   

 His hesitation was telling, even if it was more out of being unprepared for the gravity of conversation.   

 " Oi, oi  when did things get so serious all of a sudden?" A laugh that sounded hollow even to him. Nervous. Grasping for any way out. He was trapped.   

  "Gets old, y'know , being fucked around with."  Kuramochi's  voice was low and dangerous. What was needed now was tact,  not one of Miyuki's strong suits. He could feel his breath becoming more shallow as the atmosphere threatened to squeeze the air out of his lungs. His head was spinning, but he has never felt more sober in his life.   

  More uncomfortable, heavy silence weighed down on them. Miyuki couldn't move a single muscle, couldn't think of what to say, and wasn't sure he'd be able to say it if he could.   

 "Get out."   

 He chanced a glance up, eyes refocusing as he quelled the  panic rising in his throat. The sharp glare masked most of the hurt, but Miyuki still flinched.   

 His body began to work again. He stood up, shoved his hands in his pockets and walked towards the door.  Kuramochi  didn't look up at him as he passed.   

 With his  hand on the doorknob,  Kuramochi  spoke once more.  

 "Next time you come back you better have an answer for me."   

 A wry hint of a smile twitched at his lips as he left the dorm room to head back to his own cold and empty bed.   

 Only  Kuramochi  would offer him one more "next time".   

[knife-totheheart]

miyuki/kuramochi - chicken

[knife-totheheart]

I'm so sorry, so much of my Daiya no Ace headcanon ends up dumped on my twitter. 

If anyone has like...questions...about any of my headcanon re: DnA or Oofuri too for that matter, pls feel free to leave anything in my inbox and I will do my best to answer!!! 

[knife-totheheart]

Title: Won't Open My Eyes

Series: Daiya no Ace

Pairing: Miyuki/Kuramochi

Summary: More drabbling about these two dorkos. I varied the music up a little bit so it wasn't just "Chandelier" this time

The rest of their lives were the same as ever. Class, practice, team bonding. Maybe Kuramochi caught his eyes lingering on Miyuki, practicing his throwdown to second—focused, intent, purposeful. So different from how he was with their teammates, with him. He convinced himself that he wasn’t just staring at Miyuki’s ass as he squatted down and quickly popped up into position. He had no more time to dwell on it, as he heard the clang of the metal bat, his body reacting automatically to the grounder.  

Miyuki came around Kuramochi’s dorm more. He used the excuse that torturing Sawamura was worth the walk over. But didn’t he get enough of that in practice? protested the dramatic first year. A headlock from Kuramochi was enough to get him to stop running his mouth, saying he was going to Haruichi’s room for some first-year commiseration. Miyuki commented that that was just pity as Sawamura stomped out and shut the door behind him. They would always laugh for a few minutes and talk about how there was no way they were that dorky last year.  

Sometimes they would lock the door and stay right there—kissing, nipping at each other’s lips, running their hands over each other, up under clothing. A sigh would escape Kuramochi, crossed between a gasp of pain and pleasure as he was pushed against the wall, heart rate quickening as it was wont to do lately whenever Miyuki got his hands on him.  

When did they become okay with doing things like this with each other?  

Other times they would settle down from their peals of laughter and simply climb onto Kuramochi’s bunk. They would lay there, Kuramochi snapping at Miyuki that he would probably break it. Miyuki of course quips back that only Sawamura’s bed would be unusable anyway, as he settled on his side, propping his head up with a hand so he was facing Kuramochi. Kuramochi reaches over and grabs Miyuki’s glasses, slipping them on.  

“How do I look?” 

“Awful. Give ‘em back.” 

“Hyahaha! They’re your glasses. Can you even see me?” 

“Listen, I look good in them. And you’re blurry, I’m not blind without them on. Now give ‘em back.” 

“No way, you don’t need them right now.” 

“Oi, give them back.”  Miyuki reached down to grab at them. Kuramochi knocked his hand away, cackling. Miyuki would dart his hand out a couple more times, reflexes matched by Kuramochi--an unfortunate advantage for someone that likes MMA and trains at shortstop. If you asked Miyuki, Kuramochi sounded like a hyena as he continued to laugh. Damn, that laugh could grate on him. But usually, it made him laugh too.  

This was getting out of hand.  

Miyuki grabbed both of Kuramochi’s wrists, who struggled, fighting him off. Miyuki only won out because he had leverage. Kuramochi was too strong for his own good. Both wrists pinned above his head on either side, he tried to wriggle free, until he could feel hot breath for a brief second on his shoulder, moving up his neck, a soft warmth making him pause. He drew a breath and held it as more kisses traveled up his neck to his jawline, shivers shooting down his spine. Kuramochi’s arms went lax, no longer fighting, and Miyuki’s grip slackened as well, pulling himself up to press their lips together. Miyuki reached down and slid his glasses off Kuramochi's nose, folding them with one hand and tucking them away at the corner of the bed where neither could accidentally roll onto them. Kuramochi let him. 

A strange fluttering began in Kuramochi’s chest and spread outwards in all directions, his face starting to feel hot. What the hell? Since when did kissing Miyuki Kazuya get him feeling this way? The worst part of it all was that it wasn’t the same warmth he usually felt that started in his groin and made him ache for more. No, this was different. This made him want to smile and pull the other closer and lay there for a while. He knew it couldn’t be all physical, this attraction to Miyuki. Or at least, it couldn’t just stay physical.  

He was tempted to cut it all off the first few times he felt this strange fondness overcome him when he and Miyuki began to touch and kiss. Kuramochi wanted more, and not just from his body. But wanting more from Miyuki Kazuya was probably a good way to make it all go South really quickly. Kuramochi wasn't sure if it was better for it to be not enough, or anything at all.  

[knife-totheheart]

some fun sex tropes:

laughing during sex

and/or things going wrong during sex that leads to laughter

sex on a countertop/tabletop/sink because we couldn’t wait to get somewhere with cushions

kissing to stay quiet

biting to stay quiet

one person meticulously doing something entirely for the other’s benefit without expectation or need of reciprocation

"wow i did not know that was A Thing for me until right now and i’m totally fine with that but for the love of god keep doing it"

someone straddling the other while they’re “trying to read” and slowly getting them to put the book away

"you’re only allowed to sit there and watch until i tell you otherwise"

kissing anywhere but the lips

alternatively, touching anywhere but where the person desperately wants to be touched

"we couldn’t find a condom so we’re getting each other off in other ways" sex

anything involving the secretive brushing of fingertips against inner thighs in public spaces

sex with clothes half on/panties still on

the pleasant misuse of ties

sleepy morning kisses that accidentally turn intense

[knife-totheheart]

Title: Won't Look Down

Series: Daiya no Ace

Pairing: Miyuki/Kuramochi

Summary: Really a bit of a ship exploration, how I think it started. I'm more trying to set a tone for myself as a writer how I see these two assholes. 

This entire thing was written to Sia's "Chandelier" on repeat.

I'm hoping to make this into a few drabbles at some point. 

Neither is sure how they got to this point.

Miyuki had been hanging around the vending machine, sipping a soda that must have come from it, floodlights from the nearby dorms reflecting off his glasses. Sawamura wasn’t around to bully into getting him a drink so Kuramochi had had to go himself. A surprised snap from Kuramochi who hadn’t realized Miyuki was there led to a typical smartass response. Miyuki cackles and stands up straight, leaving his drink on the ground as Kuramochi approaches him, growling, shoving an arm across his chest, pushing him into the wall behind. Their noses hovered centimeters from each other.

Miyuki was very clearly the one that leaned in first, lips pressing firmly into Kuramochi’s, who could only think to kiss him back with as much intensity, if not more so. He wasn’t sure what he was doing—Miyuki was pissing him off, that was all he knew, and bruising his lips seemed to be an appropriate punishment in this exact moment.  For being hyperaware of their bodies moving against each other’s, they both outright ignored the fact that they could be discovered at any moment, one of their teammates innocently walking by to get a drink. Or at least, if either did notice, neither mentioned anything about it.  Miyuki felt rough, calloused hands snake their way through his hair, fingernails scraping at his scalp, pulling him closer.

Kuramochi’s irritation seemed to drive his fervor, tugging harder at this obnoxious guy’s pretty boy hair, wanting to mess it up something awful—how dare he be that attractive with that big fat mouth of his, provoking him. Kuramochi wanted him to make another small sound, sigh hard again through his nose, breathe faster, feel his pulse hammer quicker against him, as he used his body to keep Miyuki pinned to the wall.

Miyuki’s hands roved downwards hiking up Kuramochi’s shirt, fingers gripping at the too-warm skin, radiating heat, firm muscle providing resistance.  His own fingernails were undoubtedly leaving red trails across Kuramochi’s hipbones, up his sides, hands finally settling on his waist, holding them together.

They were both panting and sweating, flushed. That was all the sound in the area for what felt like an eternity, until Kuramochi could make out what he thought was breathy laughter, coming from Miyuki. A hand left Kuramochi’s waist (cool spot on his skin suddenly very obvious) and was brought up. Miyuki pulled his glasses off, holding them up. The light filtered through in patches, revealing smudge marks on his lenses. Kuramochi chanced a look up at Miyuki and was annoyed to find one side of his mouth curled up in a wicked smirk, eyes shining with...amusement?... in the shadows. With a step back, Kuramochi shoved him again for good measure, not looking back as he walked away, hand at his lips, feeling for damage and disbelieving that they were smashed against Miyuki Kazuya’s until a few seconds ago.

One day later, Kuramochi wasn’t expecting to find Miyuki standing in the exact same spot, staring off into the night sky. He wasn’t like that for long—without a smarmy grin on his face, a devious glint in his eye. He had heard Kuramochi approach, familiar smirk now gracing his features.

“Miss me?”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here again.”

“Returning to the scene of the crime.”

“Is that what you thought about it?”

A half a second too long passed between them as they just looked at each other. Kuramochi broke eye contact first, inserting a couple of coins into the machine, clunk of a bottle hitting the bottom of the chute.

“Haha, come on, it was fun.”

Kuramochi wasn’t sure how much more irritated he could get with this guy. He grabbed the bottle and shoved it into his pocket, walking towards Miyuki.

“Your face was pretty great. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you turn that red. You looked like you didn’t know whether to shit or wind your—“

Kuramochi shoved this utter asshole into the wall for the second time in 24 hours, crushing his mouth against Miyuki’s thoroughly satisfied at the look of surprise that flashed across his eyes. And to be honest, he wasn’t sure whether he was going to kiss him or punch him in the mouth by the time he got to him.

He never once asked Miyuki why he decided to kiss him that night.

They fell into a routine, like the rest of their lives, it seemed. Every night, around the same time, behind the vending machine. He wouldn’t say it to Miyuki, but it was fun. Something different, exciting. A chance to shut Miyuki Kazuya up, even if just for a few minutes. If there wasn’t something thrilling about that, they obviously didn’t know the obnoxious guy currently sighing under his touch.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than hang out around here? Why do you come out here anyway?”

“Just to think.”

“Don’t you mean ‘scheme’?”

“Haha.”

He didn’t answer the question properly. Kuramochi didn’t push yet.

They didn’t put a name to their “thing” and neither was particularly interested in doing so yet.

[knife-totheheart]

I have a big problem and it’s called MiyuMochi or KuraMiyu or what have you and I can’t stop thinking about things with it

Read More

[knife-totheheart]

List of Smut Writing Guides

Below is a list of guides that have been written on how to write smut. Credit goes to their original writers. This list will be updated each time I find a new smut guide. [Each link below is titled as the topic it covers]

Accurately Write Gay Sex

Bare Bones [Step by Step/Stages]

Boners

Casual Sex

Erotic Horror

Gay Sex

Gay Smut

Guide to Bottoming

How to RP Smut

In General [and details]

Kinks and Fetishes

Kisses

Kissing

Language in Smut

Lesbian Smut

Lesbian Smut

Making Love

Planned Sex [Girl POV]

Sex Scene

Sex Scenes

Sex Scene References

Smut 101

Terms [Vocabulary]

The Basics

The First Time

Words for Sex

Writing a Sex Scene

Writing from a Male’s Perspective

Writing Smut for the First Time

Writing Tips

12-Step Program [How to Write Sex]

Yes, some of these may not relate directly to smut or cover the topic, but they can be helpful when writing smut.

The updated list can always be found here. If there are any broken links, please let me know.

[knife-totheheart]

This was done for oofuri_69min over on twitter. I've never written this pairing before and so this ended up as trying to feel it out, maybe get a gist of their relationship, something to work with next time I write them. Hope it doesn't suck too much!

Prompt: Growth Spurt

Pairing: Sakabe

“Are you going through a growth spurt or something?” was the first thing Abe Takaya asked in the past hour, no preamble required in his own mind.

“Eh? What brought that up?”

Yuuto glanced over his shoulder, not that it did much when they sat back-to-back like this. They had been studying in silence, weight of each other both supporting and supported, in balance.

“Mm. Nothing really.”

Yuuto froze in place, waiting for more from his fellow co-captain. When nothing else came for another 10 seconds, he resumed his pre-interruption position, except this time, leaning a bit heavier on Takaya.

“Your shoulders match up to mine lately when we do this,” Takaya spoke to the other side of the room.

“You didn’t think you’d be the only one on the team to grow, did you?” Yuuto set his notebook down on his textbook that he had been taking notes from at his side and stood. A small disgruntled noise of surprise left Takaya as he suddenly lost his back rest. Yuuto stood up straight, hands behind his back as he looked down. “Here, stand up.”

Takaya gave him an annoyed look as he sighed, leaning forward until he was in that familiar crouch, using his hands on his knees to push himself all the way up straight. Takaya had grown a fair 8 cm since joining the Nishiura baseball team a year and a half ago, putting on height faster than most of his other teammates. Hanai already had a mild freak-out when Suyama nearly caught up to him at the end of their first year, and he only had grown 3 cm in that time. Yuuto was a bit slower catching up—at 169 cm to start, he had only grown 2 cm that first year. It didn’t particularly bother him—second base wasn’t a position that typically required height, and his bunting had improved dramatically. As long as he kept his speed, he would keep his starting position on the team.

With a couple steps forward, Takaya now stood toe-to-toe with Yuuto. Takaya brought a hand up to put on top of Yuuto’s, and one to put on top of his. Holding his hands steady, he took a half step back, making sure his hand stayed in place.

“…you can’t be more than 4 cm shorter than me at this point.”

“You grew faster than the rest of us—it’s only fair that we get a chance to catch up.”

“Be careful that it doesn’t throw off your throwing or batting stance.”

“We practice almost every day—even if growing did affect them, I’d just practice around them anyway,” Yuuto replied, rubbing at the back of his head. Takaya had a strange way of showing concern. It was more of an indirect way of asking people to take care of themselves. Not “take care of yourself” so much as “take care to do x so it helps some part of you.” But Takaya was always like that. Yuuto appreciated the thought, anyway. He knew Takaya meant more to it.

“Besides,” Yuuto continued, taking half a step forward to close the distance between them, “it’s easier to do this.” Fingers lacing into Takaya’s, he tilted chin upwards, pressing their lips together gently.

A few seconds of silence pass after they break apart.

“You really don’t have to go up on your toes anymore,” Takaya astutely observed.

With a shake of his head, Yuuto let out an exasperated sigh. “I haven’t for a while.”

“We’re also not usually standing when we kiss.”

“This is true. Maybe soon I won’t even have to look up at you for one!”

Hands still entwined, Takaya pulled Yuuto forward this time, leaning down ever so slightly. “Or I could just do this,” he said with a shrug as he now kissed Yuuto. He could feel Yuuto heating up, even as he pulled away to see the slight pink tinge to his cheeks.

“What?”

“N-Nothing. I’ll just grow a few more centimeters and catch up.”

“Or we could just kiss when we’re not standing up like this.”

Yuuto was sure he couldn’t hide his blush now. The worst part of it all, was that Takaya meant it in the most pragmatic way possible, leaving Yuuto to stew in his own thoughts, not catching the small smirk on Takaya’s lips as they sat back down to continue studying in their usual comfortable silence.

[knife-totheheart]

OKAY NO BUT I just saw a thing with Nishinoya braiding Asahi’s hair and

What if they see how popular it is in girls’ volleyball to french-braid hair and Asahi is like THAT MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE THAN A MESSY BUN because it always falls out and shit and he has to re-do it between every other play. THE FRENCH BRAID KEEPS HIS HAIR OUT OF HIS FACE PERFECTLY 

And of course Nishinoya learned how to do one coincidentally so it becomes a pre-game ritual.

[knife-totheheart]

Bring Me to the Blue Sky by knifeofice

BRING ME TO THE BLUE SKY- a Suyanai fanmix

i. World Spins Madly On✰ The Weepies;

ii. Somebody Loves✰ The Weepies;

iii. Meteor Shower (Vexento Remix)✰Owl City;

iv. Transformations✰ Rameses B;

v. Home✰ Ingrid Michaelson;

vi. Breathin’✰ EDX;

vii. What Am I to You✰ Norah Jones;

viii. This Modern Love✰ Bloc Party;

ix. Mystery Man✰ Jupiter One;

x. Bloom✰ Paper Kites;

xi. My Slumbering Heart✰ Rilo Kiley

cover art used with permission by Bridges @ oldbridges.tumblr.com

[knife-totheheart]

Done again for #oofuri_69min over on twitter. Sorry y'all this one is pretty rough but I wanted to get it out tonight before I went to sleep. And I need to sleep. I think I might come back to this one and edit it later (if I had any pride as a writer, I would)

Title: Smile

Prompt: Selfie

Pairing: Tajihana

“Smile!”

A bright flash went off in Hanai’s eyes as he turned towards Tajima’s voice. A hand flew up far too late in an attempt to shield his eyes. Stars blinked, blocking his vision when he opened his eyes.

“Give me more warning next time!” he scolded. Tajima was hardly paying attention though, looking down at his phone and playing around with it. He frowned.

“You’re too tall,” he stated matter-of-factly, brandishing the phone with a full screen picture. Hanai took a look and sure enough, he could only see half of his eyes but the rest of his confused face. Tajima was front and center, flashing a grin and holding up a “V” with his free hand. Hanai shook his head as he finished tying up his cleat and put his cap on.

“Delete that. C’mon, we should start warming up before Coach gets here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, there’s no really good translation for this, but the best way to say it is—“

Hanai never finished that sentence as he felt a heaviness suddenly bear down across his shoulders and pull him towards the source of it. Another bright flash.

“Tajima! If you want a pitcher for next week, let me help him through an English quiz!” he snapped, irate. But Tajima was already showing Mihashi the picture he had snapped.

“Even sitting down, you’re too tall!”

“Gimme that.” The Captain snatched the phone and looked down at it. The picture focused mostly on Tajima and Mihashi, who looked just as surprised as Hanai did—though the right half of his face was cut off.

Rolling his eyes, he tossed the phone back. “You have work to do too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside, as the sky turned orange and yellow with the setting sun, the bitter wind blew threw them making them both shiver. Hanai didn’t understand why Tajima was walking so far with him—he only lived a couple of minutes away after all.

He couldn’t believe they were nearing the end of their first year of high school already. It had been a fun year with the team and they still had two years together—two years for all of them to grow and develop and learn. The huge advantage to their team was that they didn’t have to get used to each other all over again every year like other clubs—they all had a solid idea how the others played. New first years would come in but they would have senpais—much different than how they stumbled through. It felt good to get the program off to a solid start. He hoped Nishiura High School would have a baseball club for many years to come.

“Hey, bend down a bit!” Tajima’s voice broke him out of his ponderings. The shorter boy grabbed Hanai (as best as he could) around the shoulders and pulled him down a few inches. A cell phone screen appeared in front of him and made an artificial “click” sound. Both of them were huddled together over the screen. It was a lot warmer like this.

Well, at least Hanai was entirely in this picture.

“Next time, smile!” Tajima demanded, pouting a bit.

“If you gave me more than a couple of seconds of warning, maybe I would!”

“Really?”

Hanai thought about it for a second. “Maybe.”

“That’s not a real answer!”

They stayed in contact with each other for warmth until they realized they were halfway to Hanai’s house. They parted ways and the taller boy thought he saw a bigger frown form on the other’s face as he turned to go home. Tajima must prefer their body heat to the freezing gusts, Hanai reasoned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The roar from the crowd was incredible. His teammates (new first years included) all gathered around the plate as he stepped on home. Hands came down from everywhere to hit his helmet, everyone congratulating him on his first homerun of the year—in a summer tournament game, no less. Hanai was walking on cloud nine as he and the rest of his teammates returned to the dugout.

As he basked in the praise, Tajima came over, face oddly serious, arms crossed over his chest.

“I told you this once before—‘Don’t be satisfied’.”

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, Hanai unsure how to react, frozen in the middle of placing his batting helmet back on the rack. Then, the third baseman cracked and his usual smile formed.

“That was a bomb! You’re gonna have to tell me what kind of pitch it was later!”

Truth be told, Hanai was more of a reactive hitter, not so much one to analyze a pitch. If it was in the strike zone, he swung at it, not paying particular attention to the trajectory from the pitcher’s hand so much or the spin. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Uh…sure.”

“Let’s take a picture! Here,” Tajima moved closer, cell phone in hand. Hanai was getting taller, but Tajima seemed to grow a bit too. The height difference wasn’t nearly as large as when they first met the year before. Hanai hesitantly wrapped his arm around the other’s shoulders, ignoring the quickening of his heart. Just adrenaline.

They would have both smiled if Coach Momoe hadn’t scolded them the exact second the picture was snapped. Tajima had put the phone away immediately, but after the game, they both laughed at their horrified faces. This time, Hanai didn’t tell Tajima to delete it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His limbs felt weak. The sun was strong overhead. He was sure he spent the last of his energy aggressively, loudly thanking the umpires and the other team for the well-played game. He was the captain after all. He had to keep everyone’s spirits up and represent Nishiura proudly. He made his way to the corner of the bench, hidden away in the shade and bent over, huddled, pulling his cap down over his face to hide the tears that leaked from his eyes.

So close. They had come so close to Koushien. One more round and they would have been off to Hyougo prefecture to fight their way to the top. Knowing they came so close to their goal of the past three years only to fall just short seemed to make it that much more painful.

He was proud of his team and the effort they put in. The first and second years dedicated themselves to helping the third years get as far as they did, and for that he was grateful. But now…

His time with the original ten Nishiura players was over. That was the part he thinks that hurt the most. After this, it was college applications (well, for most of them anyway) and then splitting ways. But there was one person he didn’t think he could stand being separated from.

Hanai became acutely aware of someone entering his personal bubble. A figure appeared below his brim, kneeling in front of him. Surprised, he looked up slightly. Tajima sat there and before he could say anything, Tajima’s forehead pressed against his own, dislodging the cap from Hanai’s head. He felt a hand on the back of his neck and another lace its fingers into his.

“Good work, Captain,” he muttered thickly, smallest of smiles on his face.

Everyone else was busy comforting each other, the two of them alone. Hanai pulled away a little bit, to take a look at the other’s face. He could see where tears had trailed through the dust and dirt on Tajima’s cheeks. He was sure everyone else’s face, including his, looked the same.

He squeezed the other’s hand and laughed lightly as a couple more tears leaked out. He used his other arm to briskly wiped them away.

“Sorry I couldn’t lead us to Koushien. Though I don’t think that’ll hurt your prospects.”

Now Tajima laughed. “I still wanted to get as far as we could with everyone. It’s really over for us now, huh?”

Well that sounded more loaded than it should have. Hanai shook his head and ignored any other meaning. “Not for you, anyway.”

He had no doubt in his mind that the team would always keep in touch, no matter where they were, but things would never be the same. No more running until they collapsed from exhaustion, or group study sessions, or pigging out after an all-day session at training camp.

“I want to take a picture.”

“Why…?”

“Just to remember.”

Hanai hesitated, then nodded slowly. With a quick squeeze of Hanai’s hand, Tajima let go, and grabbed his cell phone from his bag. He sat on the bench next to the taller boy and shuffled in close, hips and shoulders touching. Tajima held the phone up, Hanai placing a hand at the small of the other’s back and leaning in close. Both of them smiled and held up a “V” as the picture was snapped. They took a look at it and started to laugh. Huge grins with tearstained cheeks.

Hanai stood up. “Let’s go ‘Tajima-senpai’. We have to get ready to go on the bus.” He walked off to gather his heartbroken teammates, doing his best to clear his own face and nose in the process.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cherry blossoms blew through the air and Hanai could feel a tugging in his chest. The graduation ceremony was over and he was an official high school graduate. It was surreal that he wouldn’t be returning to the halls of Nishiura in the next couple of days. More surreal that he wouldn’t have his teammates around to be bothered by.

“Oi! Azusa!”

He stopped walking and turned to see Tajima running towards him, something tucked under his arm, tie already untied and jacket wide open. Bending over to catch his breath, Tajima pulled what appeared to be a book from under his arm and shoved it in Hanai’s direction. Confused, he took it and opened it, no marking on the outside indicating what it was.

“It’s a…collection…from the last three years,” he managed to gasp out, straightening up, a mere 8 cm shorter than Hanai.

Inside were various pictures of him and Tajima. After flipping through the pages, the last one held the picture from their last game together. It was the only one in the bunch where they were both smiling and fully in the frame. Funny, considering how obvious it was that they had both been crying.

A fluttery feeling began in his stomach and soon traveled to his chest. It turned into an ache.

“Yuu…thanks,” was all that Hanai could manage to get out, touched by the gesture.

“Yeah I think in the U.S., they’re calling this type of picture a ‘selfie’ or something like that,” Tajima said, showing off his rudimentary English skills. “Ah, wait there’s one more thing I wanted to add to this.”

Hanai looked over, confused, at the other as he fumbled in his pocket to pull out his phone and hold it up.

“One from graduation day!”

Of course, he thought to himself, smiling and giving his permission with a nod. At least they would finally have one together where they were smiling and not right after crying.

Hanai slipped his hand around the other’s waist as Tajima used his free arm to snake around Hanai’s shoulders, positioning the phone in front of them. And Hanai smiled. But a warm pressure on his cheek made his eyes widen and cheeks flush as the flash went off. He whipped around to look at the other, who was grinning ear to ear, holding up the phone. Captured was the exact moment Hanai turned red after Tajima planted a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m printing this one out and bringing it with me when we travel,” Tajima said proudly, cackling as he made sure to hold the phone with both hands—he was never letting Hanai delete this one.

“Yuu…!” he growled lowly, snatching at the phone, knowing he wouldn’t get it anyway. Tajima dodged out of the way, now laughing.

“Congratulations on graduating, Azusa!” he said with another peck on the check.

And even though Hanai was starting university and Tajima was getting ready to go to a pro training camp, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind their relationship would be okay in the long run.

But he had a sinking feeling he would never be able to get rid of that “selfie”.