Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kasamatsu Yukio Fandom: Haikyuu!!, Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: none Other Tags: none Square: A1 Word Count: 557
***
Kasamatsu loves Kanagawa, the city, removed from the chaos of Tokyo, but bustling. But there's something about the atmosphere in Miyagi, quiet except for the hum of cicadas, the tinkling of bells on passing bicycles, that makes him wish he never moved away. It feels like home here, a warmth that seeps into his bones, and sure, there are some things about the city he misses. But he's graduated now, and he only has the summer before he heads back into the seemingly endless maze of skyscrapers and tourists. He plans to make the peace of the countryside last as long as it can.
He's jogging through his old neighborhood, past the high school he nearly went to, different by a syllable and a character and miles away. The city can be overwhelming, but everything is in rich, vivid detail here, footprints encased in since-dried cement sidewalks, faded and new paint on houses, even the same stray cats (or ones that look similar enough) bringing up old memories he thought he had forgotten. His feet are moving, but he's still distracted, looking but not quite seeing the path in front of him, and he runs right into the bicep of a jogger heading in the opposite direction, knocking him out of his reverie.
“Shit,” He apologizes, stumbling back. “I didn't even see you, I'm so sorry--”
“Well,” laughs the jogger. “That's one way to greet me.”
Kasamatsu blinks, and there Iwaizumi is, grinning and pulling his headphones from his ears, tanned like it's the middle of August even though June has barely started. Sure, he had seen pictures on social media when he bothered to remember. But Iwaizumi is really taller now, broader now, only enhancing his quiet charm to what Kasamatsu is sure is a near lethal level. But all he can do is grin back.
“Long time, Hajime.”
“Yeah, and I ought to give you some grief about it; you couldn't text me?”
“Sorry,” Kasamatsu apologizes again as Iwaizumi bumps his shoulder with his fist. “Wasn't sure if you had the same number.”
And then it's just like three years never passed between them, Kasamatsu joining Iwaizumi on his route; both of their sports were cardio-intense in middle school, and they used to jog together just like this. But they can keep with each other this time, and even jog a little faster now, the soles of their shoes pounding pavement, almost racing to the hill where they had chased each other around in the summertime, where they sledded together in winter as kids. Kasamatsu’s heart is pounding, too, not just from the physical effort, but from the thickness in Iwaizumi’s arms, the way crinkles form at the corners of his eyes when he smiles wide. It's a crush he tried to squash at the end of middle school, but right now it's a burst dam, the water washing over him in waves, and even though he should call from help, well, he can't deny that it feels so damn refreshing.
He collapses to the grass, still cool and dewy on his skin, though the sun is rising higher. Iwaizumi leans over him, blocking it out with his body, eyes half-lidded. Their chests are both heaving, aching for breaths, and Kasamatsu pulls him in. Iwaizumi’s lips are chapped and warm, a perfect substitute for oxygen.
FILL: Team Himuro Tatsuya/Nijimura Shuuzou, A1, T
Fandom: Haikyuu!!, Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none
Square: A1
Word Count: 557
***
Kasamatsu loves Kanagawa, the city, removed from the chaos of Tokyo, but bustling. But there's something about the atmosphere in Miyagi, quiet except for the hum of cicadas, the tinkling of bells on passing bicycles, that makes him wish he never moved away. It feels like home here, a warmth that seeps into his bones, and sure, there are some things about the city he misses. But he's graduated now, and he only has the summer before he heads back into the seemingly endless maze of skyscrapers and tourists. He plans to make the peace of the countryside last as long as it can.
He's jogging through his old neighborhood, past the high school he nearly went to, different by a syllable and a character and miles away. The city can be overwhelming, but everything is in rich, vivid detail here, footprints encased in since-dried cement sidewalks, faded and new paint on houses, even the same stray cats (or ones that look similar enough) bringing up old memories he thought he had forgotten. His feet are moving, but he's still distracted, looking but not quite seeing the path in front of him, and he runs right into the bicep of a jogger heading in the opposite direction, knocking him out of his reverie.
“Shit,” He apologizes, stumbling back. “I didn't even see you, I'm so sorry--”
“Well,” laughs the jogger. “That's one way to greet me.”
Kasamatsu blinks, and there Iwaizumi is, grinning and pulling his headphones from his ears, tanned like it's the middle of August even though June has barely started. Sure, he had seen pictures on social media when he bothered to remember. But Iwaizumi is really taller now, broader now, only enhancing his quiet charm to what Kasamatsu is sure is a near lethal level. But all he can do is grin back.
“Long time, Hajime.”
“Yeah, and I ought to give you some grief about it; you couldn't text me?”
“Sorry,” Kasamatsu apologizes again as Iwaizumi bumps his shoulder with his fist. “Wasn't sure if you had the same number.”
And then it's just like three years never passed between them, Kasamatsu joining Iwaizumi on his route; both of their sports were cardio-intense in middle school, and they used to jog together just like this. But they can keep with each other this time, and even jog a little faster now, the soles of their shoes pounding pavement, almost racing to the hill where they had chased each other around in the summertime, where they sledded together in winter as kids. Kasamatsu’s heart is pounding, too, not just from the physical effort, but from the thickness in Iwaizumi’s arms, the way crinkles form at the corners of his eyes when he smiles wide. It's a crush he tried to squash at the end of middle school, but right now it's a burst dam, the water washing over him in waves, and even though he should call from help, well, he can't deny that it feels so damn refreshing.
He collapses to the grass, still cool and dewy on his skin, though the sun is rising higher. Iwaizumi leans over him, blocking it out with his body, eyes half-lidded. Their chests are both heaving, aching for breaths, and Kasamatsu pulls him in. Iwaizumi’s lips are chapped and warm, a perfect substitute for oxygen.