Baseball was a choice, always a choice, and Miyuki. Well, Miyuki was an accident, Youichi will always tell himself.
(At least at first.)
See, the thing is, Youichi doesn't really know how to do anything without pouring all of himself into it. He can't take just one tiny step in, he's gotta jump headfirst into things. And he doesn't quit. Not ever.
Baseball has always been that for him. The thing he doesn't ever want to quit. The thing he's dove headfirst into since he was a kid. The thing he thinks makes him matter--that gives him a chance to be part of something bigger than himself, part of something and valued for his skill, his ability.
Then, then there's Miyuki, who's also similar in the respect that he's stubborn, dives into things, gives all of himself to baseball. He's a little more analytical about it, a little more careful than Youichi is, but he's still got an inherently similar approach.
And Miyuki's not one to give up either. Youichi's learned that about him pretty quickly. Whether that revelation manifests itself in Miyuki's early morning teasing in their classroom as they wait for school to start. Whether it's at night, long after practice is over and Miyuki's still working with the pitchers. Whether it's concealing an injury, fighting through it to play in the game of their lives.
Baseball may be the thing that introduced Youichi to Miyuki, the thing that made them part of each other's lives, but there's more than that. Once Miyuki's latched onto him, become a familiar and welcome part of his every day life, well, Youichi doesn't want to let him go. Somewhere along the line, he's opened up this space that Miyuki's wormed his way into. Or maybe it's the other way around... maybe Miyuki wormed himself in and Youichi welcomed the contact, can't give it up.
But now, now he can't imagine wanting anything but this, can't imagine anything but them, together like this.
Youichi can feel himself falling. Slower than he's used to--still headfirst, still with all of himself, but a lot more careful, this time. He wants to make it count, wants it to be right. For him. For Miyuki.
Well, Youichi isn't anything, if not consistent.
So this time, this time when he feels comfortable enough, close enough, open enough, he lets himself fall fully. He lets himself pull Miyuki closer, lets himself enjoy the press of their lips and the feel of Miyuki's hair beneath his fingertips.
He can't imagine anything but this, now that it's tight within his grasp, and he's never going to let this go.
FILL: TEAM KURAMOCHI YOUICHI/MIYUKI KAZUYA, G
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439 words
Remix of
Baseball was a choice, always a choice, and Miyuki. Well, Miyuki was an accident, Youichi will always tell himself.
(At least at first.)
See, the thing is, Youichi doesn't really know how to do anything without pouring all of himself into it. He can't take just one tiny step in, he's gotta jump headfirst into things. And he doesn't quit. Not ever.
Baseball has always been that for him. The thing he doesn't ever want to quit. The thing he's dove headfirst into since he was a kid. The thing he thinks makes him matter--that gives him a chance to be part of something bigger than himself, part of something and valued for his skill, his ability.
Then, then there's Miyuki, who's also similar in the respect that he's stubborn, dives into things, gives all of himself to baseball. He's a little more analytical about it, a little more careful than Youichi is, but he's still got an inherently similar approach.
And Miyuki's not one to give up either. Youichi's learned that about him pretty quickly. Whether that revelation manifests itself in Miyuki's early morning teasing in their classroom as they wait for school to start. Whether it's at night, long after practice is over and Miyuki's still working with the pitchers. Whether it's concealing an injury, fighting through it to play in the game of their lives.
Baseball may be the thing that introduced Youichi to Miyuki, the thing that made them part of each other's lives, but there's more than that. Once Miyuki's latched onto him, become a familiar and welcome part of his every day life, well, Youichi doesn't want to let him go. Somewhere along the line, he's opened up this space that Miyuki's wormed his way into. Or maybe it's the other way around... maybe Miyuki wormed himself in and Youichi welcomed the contact, can't give it up.
But now, now he can't imagine wanting anything but this, can't imagine anything but them, together like this.
Youichi can feel himself falling. Slower than he's used to--still headfirst, still with all of himself, but a lot more careful, this time. He wants to make it count, wants it to be right. For him. For Miyuki.
Well, Youichi isn't anything, if not consistent.
So this time, this time when he feels comfortable enough, close enough, open enough, he lets himself fall fully. He lets himself pull Miyuki closer, lets himself enjoy the press of their lips and the feel of Miyuki's hair beneath his fingertips.
He can't imagine anything but this, now that it's tight within his grasp, and he's never going to let this go.