Ship: Midousuji/Onoda Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal Major Tags: tags omitted Other Tags: tags omitted Word Count: 540 words
***
Onoda can't stop smiling, Midousuji's decided. A smile is Onoda's default expression. He watches Onoda sleep one night and is rewarded by the sight of Onoda smiling even as he sleeps.
Yes. There's just something inside him that's always joyous. It's like his heart is set to 'happy' and no change in circumstance can push the dial to anything else for too long. Like a compass needle swinging to point North, Onoda will always find cheer even in the worst of circumstances.
And something about it is infectious. Like a plague, Midousuji finds himself slowly sickening. His smile, so often practiced in the mirror, so polished and sharp, softens when it's turned on Onoda. The heat of Onoda's love makes the edges of his smile soften like wax, turns it into something gentler.
His touch, too, isn't violent or condescending if it it's with Onoda. He goes to ruffle Onoda's hair and make a patronizing comment about his size but instead, his hand stills in Onoda's hair and he pets him as gently as he would a newborn kitten.
"I really like spending time with you, Akira," Onoda says so earnestly that Midousuji should want to puke at how sincere Onoda is. Instead, he feels something odd flutter in his chest and then settle, spreading warmth through him from the inside.
Ew. He's definitely infected. It's going all through him, from his heart outwards. It feels like the blood in his veins has been replaced by golden ichor, as if the purity of Onoda's love is making him divine rather than disastrous.
"You're so gross when you say things like that," Midousuji grumbles. Instead of being embarrassed, Onoda laughs and slips his hand into Midousuji's. His hand is so plump, calloused from the bike handles but soft under the rough skin. WHen he holds Midousuji's hand, it makes Midousuji remember being young and holding his mother's hand in the same way, feeling her burning up from the inside and the bones of her delicate hands pressing into the fat pads of his own palm.
(Midousuji regrets every name he'd ever called Onoda, even though he'd never tell him that.)
He doesn't want to ever let go of Onoda's hand so of course, he pulls his hand away immediately and wipes it against his trousers.
"Gross," he says again with the best roll of his eyes that he can manage, "What did I say about holding hands in public, Sakamichi-chan?"
"That it's gross," Onoda says, still with that beatific smile. He slides his hand inti Midousuji's again and this time, he holds on a little tighter. "But you call everything gross, even the things you like."
He peers up at Midousuji from behind those ridiculously big glasses and says matter-of-factly, "You even call me gross."
"You are," Midousuji insists. For the hell of it, he leans down and wraps his arms around Onoda, picking him up easily and placing him on the nearby wall. There. Now he's at the perfect height to kiss, so Midousuji does so.
When the kiss ends, he mutters with pink cheeks, "You're the grossest one of them all and you make me feel so, so gross."
FILL: TEAM PRINCE OF TENNIS, T
Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 540 words
***
Onoda can't stop smiling, Midousuji's decided. A smile is Onoda's default expression. He watches Onoda sleep one night and is rewarded by the sight of Onoda smiling even as he sleeps.
Yes. There's just something inside him that's always joyous. It's like his heart is set to 'happy' and no change in circumstance can push the dial to anything else for too long. Like a compass needle swinging to point North, Onoda will always find cheer even in the worst of circumstances.
And something about it is infectious. Like a plague, Midousuji finds himself slowly sickening. His smile, so often practiced in the mirror, so polished and sharp, softens when it's turned on Onoda. The heat of Onoda's love makes the edges of his smile soften like wax, turns it into something gentler.
His touch, too, isn't violent or condescending if it it's with Onoda. He goes to ruffle Onoda's hair and make a patronizing comment about his size but instead, his hand stills in Onoda's hair and he pets him as gently as he would a newborn kitten.
"I really like spending time with you, Akira," Onoda says so earnestly that Midousuji should want to puke at how sincere Onoda is. Instead, he feels something odd flutter in his chest and then settle, spreading warmth through him from the inside.
Ew. He's definitely infected. It's going all through him, from his heart outwards. It feels like the blood in his veins has been replaced by golden ichor, as if the purity of Onoda's love is making him divine rather than disastrous.
"You're so gross when you say things like that," Midousuji grumbles. Instead of being embarrassed, Onoda laughs and slips his hand into Midousuji's. His hand is so plump, calloused from the bike handles but soft under the rough skin. WHen he holds Midousuji's hand, it makes Midousuji remember being young and holding his mother's hand in the same way, feeling her burning up from the inside and the bones of her delicate hands pressing into the fat pads of his own palm.
(Midousuji regrets every name he'd ever called Onoda, even though he'd never tell him that.)
He doesn't want to ever let go of Onoda's hand so of course, he pulls his hand away immediately and wipes it against his trousers.
"Gross," he says again with the best roll of his eyes that he can manage, "What did I say about holding hands in public, Sakamichi-chan?"
"That it's gross," Onoda says, still with that beatific smile. He slides his hand inti Midousuji's again and this time, he holds on a little tighter. "But you call everything gross, even the things you like."
He peers up at Midousuji from behind those ridiculously big glasses and says matter-of-factly, "You even call me gross."
"You are," Midousuji insists. For the hell of it, he leans down and wraps his arms around Onoda, picking him up easily and placing him on the nearby wall. There. Now he's at the perfect height to kiss, so Midousuji does so.
When the kiss ends, he mutters with pink cheeks, "You're the grossest one of them all and you make me feel so, so gross."
Being in love is just embarrassing.