Ship: Tachibana Makoto/Nanase Haruka Fandom: Free! Major Tags: None. Other Tags: pining, mutual pining probably, eye contact, dumb boys are dumb Word Count: 554
***
Makoto felt his legs shake under him, his lungs aching, as he stood atop the cold solid platform, the weight of the medal around his neck the only thing grounding him in the roaring stadium. Bronze. Bronze. No one had expected him, a lanky swimmer from rural Japan, to make it anywhere close to the podium—and yet here he was. Makoto wasn't entirely sure that all the wetness of his face was from the pool.
As the anthem of the gold medalist began to play, Makoto searched across the length of the pool where the next swimmers were beginning to warm up. It was easy enough to find what he was looking for. Haru was standing on one leg, stretching his quadriceps and staring back at Makoto with a gaze as heavy as the medal around Makoto's neck. The intensity of it cut the breath from Makoto's lungs, made him swallow involuntarily. I saw you, that look said. I was watching.
He'd known that Haru would be watching, but it was different like this, somehow. He loved Haru's eyes. He'd let Haru's eyes scrape his skin, bore into his soul, set him on fire, drown him, pin him to that podium and keep him there. If he was honest, he always would have.
When the ceremony was finished, he stepped off the podium and went to the stands to watch. It was Haru's turn, after all. There was no rule that said Makoto wasn't allowed to watch back.
—
Haru watched him for the rest of the night—at the athlete's banquet, at their medal celebrations, on the walk back to Olympic Village with some of Team Japan's other athletes. His stare set Makoto's heart hammering, the same way it did back when they were in high school middle school, elementary school, swimming side by side and dreaming of nothing beyond doing the same tomorrow. He'd always known what it meant for a boy to set his heart racing, but Haru was his friend. No sense in ruining that.
"My room's this way. I'll see you all tomorrow," Makoto said when they got to his junction. The rest waved goodbye, but Haru lingered. As soon as the others were out of sight, Makoto asked, "Haru?"
Without warning, Haru reached out, fingers slipping underneath the open fabric of Makoto's jacket, and pulled out the bronze medal. He traced the engravings under his thumb for a moment, almost reverent, pulling the ribbon taut around Makoto's neck. For a terrifying moment, Makoto was worried he might let himself follow that pull.
"You've got one too, you know," Makoto said softly instead, "and gold's a lot better than bronze, anyway."
"I like this one because it's yours," Haru said simply. He let the medal fall lightly back against Makoto's chest and then looked up to meet Makoto's eyes one more time. There were hundreds of words behind Haru's stare, but for once, Makoto found it impossible to translate.
"Goodnight," Haru said. Suddenly the moment was gone, vanished into the cool night air. Haru was halfway down the hall before Makoto managed to get out a quick "Goodnight, Haru" of his own. As he lay awake in bed that night, his bronze medal stowed carefully on his bedside table, he couldn't help feeling like he was missing something important.
FILL: Team Daisuga, G
Fandom: Free!
Major Tags: None.
Other Tags: pining, mutual pining probably, eye contact, dumb boys are dumb
Word Count: 554
***
Makoto felt his legs shake under him, his lungs aching, as he stood atop the cold solid platform, the weight of the medal around his neck the only thing grounding him in the roaring stadium. Bronze. Bronze. No one had expected him, a lanky swimmer from rural Japan, to make it anywhere close to the podium—and yet here he was. Makoto wasn't entirely sure that all the wetness of his face was from the pool.
As the anthem of the gold medalist began to play, Makoto searched across the length of the pool where the next swimmers were beginning to warm up. It was easy enough to find what he was looking for. Haru was standing on one leg, stretching his quadriceps and staring back at Makoto with a gaze as heavy as the medal around Makoto's neck. The intensity of it cut the breath from Makoto's lungs, made him swallow involuntarily. I saw you, that look said. I was watching.
He'd known that Haru would be watching, but it was different like this, somehow. He loved Haru's eyes. He'd let Haru's eyes scrape his skin, bore into his soul, set him on fire, drown him, pin him to that podium and keep him there. If he was honest, he always would have.
When the ceremony was finished, he stepped off the podium and went to the stands to watch. It was Haru's turn, after all. There was no rule that said Makoto wasn't allowed to watch back.
—
Haru watched him for the rest of the night—at the athlete's banquet, at their medal celebrations, on the walk back to Olympic Village with some of Team Japan's other athletes. His stare set Makoto's heart hammering, the same way it did back when they were in high school middle school, elementary school, swimming side by side and dreaming of nothing beyond doing the same tomorrow. He'd always known what it meant for a boy to set his heart racing, but Haru was his friend. No sense in ruining that.
"My room's this way. I'll see you all tomorrow," Makoto said when they got to his junction. The rest waved goodbye, but Haru lingered. As soon as the others were out of sight, Makoto asked, "Haru?"
Without warning, Haru reached out, fingers slipping underneath the open fabric of Makoto's jacket, and pulled out the bronze medal. He traced the engravings under his thumb for a moment, almost reverent, pulling the ribbon taut around Makoto's neck. For a terrifying moment, Makoto was worried he might let himself follow that pull.
"You've got one too, you know," Makoto said softly instead, "and gold's a lot better than bronze, anyway."
"I like this one because it's yours," Haru said simply. He let the medal fall lightly back against Makoto's chest and then looked up to meet Makoto's eyes one more time. There were hundreds of words behind Haru's stare, but for once, Makoto found it impossible to translate.
"Goodnight," Haru said. Suddenly the moment was gone, vanished into the cool night air. Haru was halfway down the hall before Makoto managed to get out a quick "Goodnight, Haru" of his own. As he lay awake in bed that night, his bronze medal stowed carefully on his bedside table, he couldn't help feeling like he was missing something important.