Ship: Imaizumi Shunsuke/Teshima Junta Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal Major Tags: None Other Tags: Unresolved ending Word Count: 1251
I love this ship and have been meaning to write something for it for a long time, thank you for this prompt ;_; someday I'll expand on it/edit it right
***
Imaizumi didn’t dislike Teshima right off the bat, rather, he felt indifferent towards each of the second-years. He felt their presence as they lurked around the back of the club room at the beginning of the year, and was content in not acknowledging their existence beyond that.
The first general impression they gave off was not remarkable. Imaizumi knew they wouldn’t be important in his high school racing career. There’s one second year in particular that catches Imaizumi’s eye, however. Admittingly, Imaizumi only barely noticed the scowls of dislike the curly haired boy seemed to shoot toward him. He shook it off easily, not bothered by the opinion of some trivial upperclassman.
Even as they got to know each other as teammates, Imaizumi was able to maintain his usual level of disinterest and distance.
---
Two second years in particular seem to consistently stay after group practice is over. The curly haired boy who Imaizumi eventually happens to catch is named Teshima, and a standoffish boy named Aoyagi.
Imaizumi can’t help but frown when he watches the way Teshima and Aoyagi push themselves. It’s useless. They must know that. Imaizumi kept his comments to himself, not wishing to involve himself any further than he had to.
Still, he found himself observing them every so often as the weeks went by. The two seemed to be very close. Imaizumi would firmly deny being envious of their ability to be so close to each other, or even remotely interested in figuring out their dynamic.
One day it started to rain hard enough that Kinjou had to cut practice short. Imaizumi catches Aoyagi running his hands though the wet tangles of Teshima’s hair. Teshima shamelessly leaned into the touch with a small smile, and Imaizumi’s frown deepened. The first year felt a bit too uncomfortable to linger after that. Imaizumi left the club room without a word.
---
Teshima isn’t worth being thought of as a competitor, let alone Imaizumi’s rival. He tried to remind himself that when he found the other getting under his skin.
“Huh? I didn’t know an elite like you had to put in extra hours like the rest of us,” Teshima patted Imaizumi’s shoulder, “or are you just showing off or something?”
“Don’t call me that,” Imaizumi replied curtly, his body stiff with irritation and sore from practice.
“Jeez! I’m just kidding,” Teshima sneered, “I didn’t know elites could be so sensitive.”
Imaizumi’s stare was stubborn, unrelenting and unwilling to let the other off the hook so easily. He didn’t like being talked down to, especially by someone so obnoxious as the second standing before him. Teshima wasn’t oblivious to the animosity in the air. He rolled his eyes with exasperation, laughing a little.
“Alright, move over.”
Teshima moved the other’s bag from the bench, Imaizumi noted with irritation, so he could take a seat next to the other.
“I’m a generous guy, so let me make it up to you,” Imaizumi’s thoughts froze when the second year brought a hand to his lower thigh. A flustered pink rose to his cheeks.
“Wh-“
Teshima snorted.
“Calm down, I’m just gonna massage your legs,” he scooted away, lifting Imaizumi’s leg up to the bench gently, “I do it for the third years all the time, and you look so tense it’s making me feel sorry for you.”
Imaizumi wanted to object, but Teshima’s hands were warm and firm. Maybe even a little welcoming.
---
All of Teshima’s jokes seem to fall flat in Imaizumi’s presence. The most he could get out of the first year was a simple grunt or hum. It was aggravating to Teshima, but drew the two closer to each other as he tried again and again.
And so they find themselves sitting next to each other for just a few moments before practice, as Teshima recalls every joke that comes to mind. He watches Imaizumi carefully to gauge his reaction, smirking when the other groaned in disgust, genuinely smiling when one almost seems to hit and Imaizumi has to actually fight the desire to smile back.
Imaizumi wondered for a moment if he should think this was weird, or pointless, but the thought passed quickly. Teshima’s voice was lulling in a way, it had become familiar and was comforting in that sense. When he spoke it made Imaizumi feel a little warmer, a little safer.
---
It was definitely an accident. It wasn’t supposed to happen and would never happen again, Imaizumi told himself when he was alone and able to catch up to his own racing thoughts.
Imaizumi couldn’t even recollect how it happened, but Teshima’s lips were soft and warm and Imaizumi wished he had thought to savor the taste while they were still caught up in the moment.
He remembers that their mouths were open, their tongues mingling together. Imaizumi’s breath came out in hard gasps, Teshima shivered.
Teshima’s breath felt hot and Imaizumi’s face felt hot. And the room, the room was unbearably hot as if the sun was still beating down on its windows and walls. Suddenly the kiss was over and Imaizumi struggled to deny that he didn’t want it to be. Teshima was the first to pull away.
“I- look, that was,” he wouldn’t look him in the eye, couldn’t even form a coherent excuse and now Imaizumi felt his stomach twist with the feeling of rejection, “don’t tell anyone about this. Please.”
His voice was quiet, and he seemed so much smaller now. Fragile, unsure and unprepared.
Imaizumi clenched his jaw tightly. He couldn’t bring himself to even reply before he let the club door slam behind him, leaving Teshima alone with his own creeping regret.
---
The first and second years changed together within the limited space of the club room as the third years went over the training regime outside. Imaizumi tried to avoid Teshima as discreetly as possible. He must have been distracted when it happened because he definitely didn’t see Teshima until they were pressed together, Teshima coming face to face with Imaizumi’s bare chest. Imaizumi sputtered an apology as he tried to recover, his face beginning to glow with embarrassment.
It’s a small mistake, but it’s enough to catch the attention of Naruko.
“What’s wrong Hotshot? Could it be, you have a crush on an upperclassmen? That’s forbidden love!” Naruko nearly hollered, grinning with delight at his rival’s mortification.
“You’d have to elope ya’ know! Kakaka!”
Teshima stood behind the two, paralyzed, his eyes piercing Imaizumi’s with silent bewilderment and desperation.
“Shut up Naruko. You’re being a nuisance,” Imaizumi snapped, his tone betraying no hint of humor or good nature. Onoda flinched at the clear anger in his voice. Aoyagi blinked, looking towards Teshima for clarity. Naruko huffed, grumbling about Imaizumi’s poor attitude. Beads of sweat had formed on Imaizumi’s forehead, he took a deep breath in an attempt to reel himself in.
Teshima finished first. The sharp noise of his zipper being pulled up was piercing. He stormed out in silence.
The rest finished dressing in silence.
---
Imaizumi tried to keep his distance, tried to forget about what had happened between them. It lingered in the back of his mind, sometimes popping up during class, sometimes while he laid awake at night.
Even though it made his stomach sink like a stone, made his breath hitch and his heart hurt, Imaizumi couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop thinking about how he might really be a little in love with Teshima.
FILL: TEAM Teshima Junta/Aoyagi Hajime, T
Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Unresolved ending
Word Count: 1251
I love this ship and have been meaning to write something for it for a long time, thank you for this prompt ;_; someday I'll expand on it/edit it right
***
Imaizumi didn’t dislike Teshima right off the bat, rather, he felt indifferent towards each of the second-years. He felt their presence as they lurked around the back of the club room at the beginning of the year, and was content in not acknowledging their existence beyond that.
The first general impression they gave off was not remarkable. Imaizumi knew they wouldn’t be important in his high school racing career. There’s one second year in particular that catches Imaizumi’s eye, however. Admittingly, Imaizumi only barely noticed the scowls of dislike the curly haired boy seemed to shoot toward him. He shook it off easily, not bothered by the opinion of some trivial upperclassman.
Even as they got to know each other as teammates, Imaizumi was able to maintain his usual level of disinterest and distance.
---
Two second years in particular seem to consistently stay after group practice is over. The curly haired boy who Imaizumi eventually happens to catch is named Teshima, and a standoffish boy named Aoyagi.
Imaizumi can’t help but frown when he watches the way Teshima and Aoyagi push themselves. It’s useless. They must know that. Imaizumi kept his comments to himself, not wishing to involve himself any further than he had to.
Still, he found himself observing them every so often as the weeks went by. The two seemed to be very close. Imaizumi would firmly deny being envious of their ability to be so close to each other, or even remotely interested in figuring out their dynamic.
One day it started to rain hard enough that Kinjou had to cut practice short. Imaizumi catches Aoyagi running his hands though the wet tangles of Teshima’s hair. Teshima shamelessly leaned into the touch with a small smile, and Imaizumi’s frown deepened. The first year felt a bit too uncomfortable to linger after that. Imaizumi left the club room without a word.
---
Teshima isn’t worth being thought of as a competitor, let alone Imaizumi’s rival. He tried to remind himself that when he found the other getting under his skin.
“Huh? I didn’t know an elite like you had to put in extra hours like the rest of us,” Teshima patted Imaizumi’s shoulder, “or are you just showing off or something?”
“Don’t call me that,” Imaizumi replied curtly, his body stiff with irritation and sore from practice.
“Jeez! I’m just kidding,” Teshima sneered, “I didn’t know elites could be so sensitive.”
Imaizumi’s stare was stubborn, unrelenting and unwilling to let the other off the hook so easily. He didn’t like being talked down to, especially by someone so obnoxious as the second standing before him. Teshima wasn’t oblivious to the animosity in the air. He rolled his eyes with exasperation, laughing a little.
“Alright, move over.”
Teshima moved the other’s bag from the bench, Imaizumi noted with irritation, so he could take a seat next to the other.
“I’m a generous guy, so let me make it up to you,” Imaizumi’s thoughts froze when the second year brought a hand to his lower thigh. A flustered pink rose to his cheeks.
“Wh-“
Teshima snorted.
“Calm down, I’m just gonna massage your legs,” he scooted away, lifting Imaizumi’s leg up to the bench gently, “I do it for the third years all the time, and you look so tense it’s making me feel sorry for you.”
Imaizumi wanted to object, but Teshima’s hands were warm and firm. Maybe even a little welcoming.
---
All of Teshima’s jokes seem to fall flat in Imaizumi’s presence. The most he could get out of the first year was a simple grunt or hum. It was aggravating to Teshima, but drew the two closer to each other as he tried again and again.
And so they find themselves sitting next to each other for just a few moments before practice, as Teshima recalls every joke that comes to mind. He watches Imaizumi carefully to gauge his reaction, smirking when the other groaned in disgust, genuinely smiling when one almost seems to hit and Imaizumi has to actually fight the desire to smile back.
Imaizumi wondered for a moment if he should think this was weird, or pointless, but the thought passed quickly. Teshima’s voice was lulling in a way, it had become familiar and was comforting in that sense. When he spoke it made Imaizumi feel a little warmer, a little safer.
---
It was definitely an accident. It wasn’t supposed to happen and would never happen again, Imaizumi told himself when he was alone and able to catch up to his own racing thoughts.
Imaizumi couldn’t even recollect how it happened, but Teshima’s lips were soft and warm and Imaizumi wished he had thought to savor the taste while they were still caught up in the moment.
He remembers that their mouths were open, their tongues mingling together. Imaizumi’s breath came out in hard gasps, Teshima shivered.
Teshima’s breath felt hot and Imaizumi’s face felt hot. And the room, the room was unbearably hot as if the sun was still beating down on its windows and walls. Suddenly the kiss was over and Imaizumi struggled to deny that he didn’t want it to be. Teshima was the first to pull away.
“I- look, that was,” he wouldn’t look him in the eye, couldn’t even form a coherent excuse and now Imaizumi felt his stomach twist with the feeling of rejection, “don’t tell anyone about this. Please.”
His voice was quiet, and he seemed so much smaller now. Fragile, unsure and unprepared.
Imaizumi clenched his jaw tightly. He couldn’t bring himself to even reply before he let the club door slam behind him, leaving Teshima alone with his own creeping regret.
---
The first and second years changed together within the limited space of the club room as the third years went over the training regime outside. Imaizumi tried to avoid Teshima as discreetly as possible. He must have been distracted when it happened because he definitely didn’t see Teshima until they were pressed together, Teshima coming face to face with Imaizumi’s bare chest. Imaizumi sputtered an apology as he tried to recover, his face beginning to glow with embarrassment.
It’s a small mistake, but it’s enough to catch the attention of Naruko.
“What’s wrong Hotshot? Could it be, you have a crush on an upperclassmen? That’s forbidden love!” Naruko nearly hollered, grinning with delight at his rival’s mortification.
“You’d have to elope ya’ know! Kakaka!”
Teshima stood behind the two, paralyzed, his eyes piercing Imaizumi’s with silent bewilderment and desperation.
“Shut up Naruko. You’re being a nuisance,” Imaizumi snapped, his tone betraying no hint of humor or good nature. Onoda flinched at the clear anger in his voice. Aoyagi blinked, looking towards Teshima for clarity. Naruko huffed, grumbling about Imaizumi’s poor attitude. Beads of sweat had formed on Imaizumi’s forehead, he took a deep breath in an attempt to reel himself in.
Teshima finished first. The sharp noise of his zipper being pulled up was piercing. He stormed out in silence.
The rest finished dressing in silence.
---
Imaizumi tried to keep his distance, tried to forget about what had happened between them. It lingered in the back of his mind, sometimes popping up during class, sometimes while he laid awake at night.
Even though it made his stomach sink like a stone, made his breath hitch and his heart hurt, Imaizumi couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop thinking about how he might really be a little in love with Teshima.