Ship: Miyuki Kazuya/Kuramochi Youichi Fandom: Daiya no Ace Major Tags: None Other Tags: Strong Language, some angst (?) Square: love love love Word Count: 1035
This one is pretty literally inspired by the prompted song, because I love this song so so much ♥
***
For a school Seidou’s size, there is a frustrating lack of convenient places for two boys to meet alone in the dead of night. Miyuki is fiercely proud of the team’s enthusiasm and dedication, but when it means that even the equipment storage shed will be home to some kind of late-night practice shenanigans, he can’t help but be resentful, just for a moment, that he signed away all rights to a normal teenage life.
And then Kuramochi subtly reveals the contents of his pocket during class, the key to the roof of their dormitory, and Miyuki is glad for the fact that loud, rancorous, borderline stupid Kuramochi still has all the instincts of a yankii.
Miyuki doesn’t bother stopping by his room, and immediately heads up there after his bath, grateful when the doorknob turns in his hand and for the cover of darkness that will shield them from wandering eyes. Not that he thinks anyone will have reason to look up; he doesn’t foresee them making too much noise.
Kuramochi is there, sitting on the concrete with his knees pulled up to his chest. As Miyuki approaches him, he feels the biting breeze of being at one of the tallest points on campus and shivers.
“You idiot,” Kuramochi growls when they’re close enough to make out each other’s details. He gestures to the towel around Miyuki’s neck. “Did you come right here from the baths? Do you want to die?”
Miyuki starts to retort, but cuts himself off as he’s blanketed with warmth; he looks at himself and sees Kuramochi’s team jacket hanging around his body. He should laugh and reject the kindness, but slips his arms into the sleeves instead.
“Now you’ll be the one to freeze,” Miyuki comments, just this side of gleeful.
“I’m not the captain. I’m also not the dumbass who forgot to dry his hair.”
Miyuki decides to confirm this for himself, and brings his fingers up to thread in Kuramochi’s hair. It’s unstyled, and soft without the typical handful of gel. Miyuki’s fingers run through it easily, nails grazing over his scalp. Kuramochi shudders.
“Cold?” Miyuki teases, voice full of laughter.
“No,” Kuramochi murmurs, leaning in so close his breath fans out over Miyuki. “Hot.”
He’s not sure who bridges the gap between them; maybe they meet in the middle where their lips collide with the fervent urgency of two teenagers who are breaking too many rules in one night. Kuramochi folds himself into his jacket, too, arms around Miyuki’s waist and hands on his back, up under his shirt. Miyuki thinks he’s learned well, to take everything he wants while he can.
Just as he thinks that, with his fingers threaded in the fine hair at the base of Kuramochi’s head, the other pulls out of the kiss just enough to bite Miyuki’s lip.
“Stop thinking.”
“You’re a savage,” Miyuki protests, a hand coming to his lip.
“It’s not even bleeding,” Kuramochi answers dismissively. “You have to stop. Stop thinking about how you’re going to break up with me.”
“Does it count as breaking up when we never actually went out?”
“This isn’t funny, Miyuki. What are we doing right now?”
“I thought this was making out.”
“And you make out with tons of people?”
Miyuki shifts backwards ever so slightly, away from Kuramochi and his growing rage. “Admittedly, not as many as I’d like to…”
“Bullshit. Stop playing this fucking game, Miyuki.”
“Are we playing a fucking game? You should have told me, I would have skipped underwear.”
Kuramochi screams internally, and Miyuki is grateful that he’s being conscious of his noise level. He’s also upset, because hurting Kuramochi hurts, but that’s thankfully been buried under layers of repression and self-criticism.
“I don’t get it,” Kuramochi finally huffs, scuffing his sneaker against the floor. “You know I like you. And I’m fairly certain that you like me, too. I know you like to think you’re inscrutable, but I know you better than that, Miyuki.” Miyuki opens his mouth, but before he can get a word out, Kuramochi adds, “And yeah, I said ‘inscrutable,’ you’re not the only one who knows shit.”
“Fair. Listen, I know you think you want this, but—“
“Nope. Denied. Give it to me once and for all, Miyuki, the truth. If you want to make out on the roof, you’ve gotta deal with being my boyfriend. Hand holding and first names and all of it.”
“Sounds gay.”
“Exactly. But if you can’t handle that gay shit, then you walk out, and we’re done. So what’s it gonna be. Do you love me, or not?”
The tryst has become a standoff. Miyuki wants to be angry with Kuramochi for wasting their time, time they could be putting to much better use, but he can only find it in him to be annoyed with himself for letting it get to this point.
Because Kuramochi could do so much better than him. Miyuki knows he saw Kuramochi and Kominato-san each missing the looks the other gave him for the better part of two years. He’s seen the way some underclassmen get sparkles in their eyes when he gives them attention. He knows he himself is obnoxious and impossible.
Right now, he looks and sees Kuramochi, whose eyes reflect a steel that’s evident in his body, too, the way his shoulders are taut and his spine is straight. He looks like he’s ready to fight, but he’s handed Miyuki all of the power —
Miyuki reaches out and laces his fingers with Kuramochi’s. Kuramochi inhales sharply, then all but jumps on Miyuki, and punches him in the shoulder.
“You stupid piece of shit, Kazuya,” he swears vehemently, but the telltale hiccups of his crying make it clear there’s no bite to his bark. Miyuki squeezes his hand and wraps his other arm around Kuramochi’s back. Kuramochi punches his arm, and hard, but Miyuki says nothing because he probably definitely deserved it.
“Did you think I was going to say no?” He wonders, voice coming out smaller than he’d intended.
“You’re selfish enough to.”
Miyuki hums, and kisses Kuramochi’s neck where it’s close to his lips. “I’m sorry, Youichi. I’ll make up for it.”
FILL: Team Grandstand, T
Fandom: Daiya no Ace
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Strong Language, some angst (?)
Square: love love love
Word Count: 1035
This one is pretty literally inspired by the prompted song, because I love this song so so much ♥
***
For a school Seidou’s size, there is a frustrating lack of convenient places for two boys to meet alone in the dead of night. Miyuki is fiercely proud of the team’s enthusiasm and dedication, but when it means that even the equipment storage shed will be home to some kind of late-night practice shenanigans, he can’t help but be resentful, just for a moment, that he signed away all rights to a normal teenage life.
And then Kuramochi subtly reveals the contents of his pocket during class, the key to the roof of their dormitory, and Miyuki is glad for the fact that loud, rancorous, borderline stupid Kuramochi still has all the instincts of a yankii.
Miyuki doesn’t bother stopping by his room, and immediately heads up there after his bath, grateful when the doorknob turns in his hand and for the cover of darkness that will shield them from wandering eyes. Not that he thinks anyone will have reason to look up; he doesn’t foresee them making too much noise.
Kuramochi is there, sitting on the concrete with his knees pulled up to his chest. As Miyuki approaches him, he feels the biting breeze of being at one of the tallest points on campus and shivers.
“You idiot,” Kuramochi growls when they’re close enough to make out each other’s details. He gestures to the towel around Miyuki’s neck. “Did you come right here from the baths? Do you want to die?”
Miyuki starts to retort, but cuts himself off as he’s blanketed with warmth; he looks at himself and sees Kuramochi’s team jacket hanging around his body. He should laugh and reject the kindness, but slips his arms into the sleeves instead.
“Now you’ll be the one to freeze,” Miyuki comments, just this side of gleeful.
“I’m not the captain. I’m also not the dumbass who forgot to dry his hair.”
Miyuki decides to confirm this for himself, and brings his fingers up to thread in Kuramochi’s hair. It’s unstyled, and soft without the typical handful of gel. Miyuki’s fingers run through it easily, nails grazing over his scalp. Kuramochi shudders.
“Cold?” Miyuki teases, voice full of laughter.
“No,” Kuramochi murmurs, leaning in so close his breath fans out over Miyuki. “Hot.”
He’s not sure who bridges the gap between them; maybe they meet in the middle where their lips collide with the fervent urgency of two teenagers who are breaking too many rules in one night. Kuramochi folds himself into his jacket, too, arms around Miyuki’s waist and hands on his back, up under his shirt. Miyuki thinks he’s learned well, to take everything he wants while he can.
Just as he thinks that, with his fingers threaded in the fine hair at the base of Kuramochi’s head, the other pulls out of the kiss just enough to bite Miyuki’s lip.
“Stop thinking.”
“You’re a savage,” Miyuki protests, a hand coming to his lip.
“It’s not even bleeding,” Kuramochi answers dismissively. “You have to stop. Stop thinking about how you’re going to break up with me.”
“Does it count as breaking up when we never actually went out?”
“This isn’t funny, Miyuki. What are we doing right now?”
“I thought this was making out.”
“And you make out with tons of people?”
Miyuki shifts backwards ever so slightly, away from Kuramochi and his growing rage. “Admittedly, not as many as I’d like to…”
“Bullshit. Stop playing this fucking game, Miyuki.”
“Are we playing a fucking game? You should have told me, I would have skipped underwear.”
Kuramochi screams internally, and Miyuki is grateful that he’s being conscious of his noise level. He’s also upset, because hurting Kuramochi hurts, but that’s thankfully been buried under layers of repression and self-criticism.
“I don’t get it,” Kuramochi finally huffs, scuffing his sneaker against the floor. “You know I like you. And I’m fairly certain that you like me, too. I know you like to think you’re inscrutable, but I know you better than that, Miyuki.” Miyuki opens his mouth, but before he can get a word out, Kuramochi adds, “And yeah, I said ‘inscrutable,’ you’re not the only one who knows shit.”
“Fair. Listen, I know you think you want this, but—“
“Nope. Denied. Give it to me once and for all, Miyuki, the truth. If you want to make out on the roof, you’ve gotta deal with being my boyfriend. Hand holding and first names and all of it.”
“Sounds gay.”
“Exactly. But if you can’t handle that gay shit, then you walk out, and we’re done. So what’s it gonna be. Do you love me, or not?”
The tryst has become a standoff. Miyuki wants to be angry with Kuramochi for wasting their time, time they could be putting to much better use, but he can only find it in him to be annoyed with himself for letting it get to this point.
Because Kuramochi could do so much better than him. Miyuki knows he saw Kuramochi and Kominato-san each missing the looks the other gave him for the better part of two years. He’s seen the way some underclassmen get sparkles in their eyes when he gives them attention. He knows he himself is obnoxious and impossible.
Right now, he looks and sees Kuramochi, whose eyes reflect a steel that’s evident in his body, too, the way his shoulders are taut and his spine is straight. He looks like he’s ready to fight, but he’s handed Miyuki all of the power —
Miyuki reaches out and laces his fingers with Kuramochi’s. Kuramochi inhales sharply, then all but jumps on Miyuki, and punches him in the shoulder.
“You stupid piece of shit, Kazuya,” he swears vehemently, but the telltale hiccups of his crying make it clear there’s no bite to his bark. Miyuki squeezes his hand and wraps his other arm around Kuramochi’s back. Kuramochi punches his arm, and hard, but Miyuki says nothing because he probably definitely deserved it.
“Did you think I was going to say no?” He wonders, voice coming out smaller than he’d intended.
“You’re selfish enough to.”
Miyuki hums, and kisses Kuramochi’s neck where it’s close to his lips. “I’m sorry, Youichi. I’ll make up for it.”
“You'd better.”