Ship: Takigawa Chris Yuu/Zaizen Naoyuki Fandom: Daiya no Ace Major Tags: None Other Tags: Mention of injury, some off-screen fisticuffs, zaizen has a potty mouth Word Count: ~1060
\o/ hello i hope you like it this pairing means... a lot to me. ***
dont freak out
Chris blinks at his phone, frowns, and sneaks it under the table so he can reply without the professor seeing. When you say that it makes me want to freak out. What happened?
His phone buzzes.
nothing. Another buzz. can u get me some frozen peas after ur done with class
Chris has completely lost track of the lecture now. A glance at the clock tells him he has another ten minutes left of class, and he's already mentally calculating the time it'll take him to buy frozen peas and get to Zaizen's apartment, even as he texts back a single, poignant question mark.
its fucking stupid ok. some dick came into the library drunk off his ass in the middle of the fucking day and i tried to get him to go home and he swung at me
The concern that had begun to simmer beneath Chris's skin dies down. Instead, he finds himself fighting back a smile. A drunk guy managed to give you a black eye?
fuck off, Zaizen responds immediately. and bring me some fucking peas.
Chris sends him the smirking devil emoji as an affirmative.
---
When he's home, Zaizen never locks his door. It's something Chris has sighed at him for multiple times, but it doesn't seem ot have changed his ways- Chris tries the doorknob and finds it twisting freely beneath his hands, so he just closes his eyes for a moment and lets himself in.
"I brought peas," he calls into the apartment, toeing his sneakers off in the genkan.
"Fucking finally!" Zaizen pokes his head around his bedroom door, eyebrows twisted into a frown. "Did you have to go to Antarctica for it or some shit?"
Amused, Chris says, "Nearly," before raising his own eyebrows significantly. "That's... impressive."
"Tch." Zaizen's head disappears for a second before he emerges fully, to snatch the grocery bag out of Chris's hands. He rummages in it for a second, before taking the cold bag out and laying it gingerly over his incredibly vibrant shiner. "Jesus, that feels good."
His nose looks slightly swollen too, and Chris raises a hand to touch it gently, prompting a flinch. "Did you have a nosebleed?" He says, feeling a tendril of concern wrap around his chest. "How hard did he hit you?"
"Yeah, it bled," Zaizen grumbles, adjusting the bag of peas so that a corner lies across his nose bridge. "Drunk bastard still managed to clock me in the eye and sent me over into a desk before someone got a hold of him. Sucks if he ever needs any reference books now, because he's banned for fucking life."
Chris's frown lifts slightly. "Good," he says. After a moment, he follows Zaizen deeper into the apartment. "Who knew libraries were such dangerous places to be."
"Shut up." Zaizen glares, but the effect is somewhat neutralised by his obvious reluctance to remove the peas from his face. Chris tries not to smile- but obviously fails, if Zaizen's growl is any indication.
He drops his bag by the wall and strides over to where Zaizen has slouched up against his tiny kitchen counter. Very gently, Chris tugs his hand- and the bag of peas- away from his face, so he can run delicate fingers around the bruised edge of Zaizen's cheekbone, already dark and purpling in the shape of someone's fist.
Zaizen doesn't so much as wince at his exploration, but the skin under his fingers tenses every so often, and after awhile Chris glances over to see half-lidded brown eyes, fixed on his own.
"You gonna kiss it better?" Zaizen mutters, like it's a joke, even though something in his eyes tells Chris otherwise.
It makes something in Chris's chest contract that Zaizen looks like he's bracing for another hit with every beat of silence that follows. Every second that Chris doesn't smile, doesn't laugh, just stares at him, Zaizen's face scrunches even more into a scowl, and his shoulders hunch inwards like a dog ready for another beating.
"I-"
"What's with the serious face?" Zaizen says, voice too loud. Grin too bright. "I was kidding, jeez. Don't need to look like I kicked a fucking puppy. My eye's gonna be fine, I just need to ice it anyway."
He looks away, but Chris won't have that. This is Zaizen, who's life has paralleled Chris's so much it's amusing on good days, and tragic on bad ones. Zaizen, who stretches his left leg out habitually when he sits for too long, who avoids mention of high school sports, who works three jobs just so he can avoid the hassle of a roommate.
Chris shifts his hands to cradle Zaizen's face gently, and tiptoes to press his lips softly to the ridge of Zaizen's eyebrow.
Zaizen's voice dies, and something in Chris's chest trembles, and when he comes back down his best friend is staring at him.
And the thing is, Chris has thought about this. Has made lists of pros and cons, variables to consider and hypothetical responses. He's known about Zaizen's feelings for him since they were both fifteen years old, but he always assumed the crush would just… go away, with time.
It hadn't, and neither had Zaizen. Their individual paths had come together and separated, criss-crossing over each other throughout middle school and high school before finally meeting again here, at the same university.
Chris has weighed his options. He's run the plays in his head so much he can run them in his sleep. This, this is the moment when the batter connects and the runner on third makes a break for home.
Chris blurts, "Can I kiss you?" at the same time as Zaizen asks, "What was that for?"
Zaizen quickly amends it to, "Yes."
So, Chris does.
---
Sometime later, when they're sprawled together on Zaizen's too-small futon, Zaizen grins his wide, wicked grin and teases Chris about getting turned on by frozen peas.
Chris thinks about it for a second, and gets up to fetch the bag, slowly melting on the kitchen counter.
After he's done with him, Zaizen can't ever look at a bag of frozen peas the same way again.
FILL: Team Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, T
Fandom: Daiya no Ace
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Mention of injury, some off-screen fisticuffs, zaizen has a potty mouth
Word Count: ~1060
\o/ hello i hope you like it this pairing means... a lot to me.
***
dont freak out
Chris blinks at his phone, frowns, and sneaks it under the table so he can reply without the professor seeing. When you say that it makes me want to freak out. What happened?
His phone buzzes.
nothing. Another buzz. can u get me some frozen peas after ur done with class
Chris has completely lost track of the lecture now. A glance at the clock tells him he has another ten minutes left of class, and he's already mentally calculating the time it'll take him to buy frozen peas and get to Zaizen's apartment, even as he texts back a single, poignant question mark.
its fucking stupid ok. some dick came into the library drunk off his ass in the middle of the fucking day and i tried to get him to go home and he swung at me
The concern that had begun to simmer beneath Chris's skin dies down. Instead, he finds himself fighting back a smile. A drunk guy managed to give you a black eye?
fuck off, Zaizen responds immediately. and bring me some fucking peas.
Chris sends him the smirking devil emoji as an affirmative.
---
When he's home, Zaizen never locks his door. It's something Chris has sighed at him for multiple times, but it doesn't seem ot have changed his ways- Chris tries the doorknob and finds it twisting freely beneath his hands, so he just closes his eyes for a moment and lets himself in.
"I brought peas," he calls into the apartment, toeing his sneakers off in the genkan.
"Fucking finally!" Zaizen pokes his head around his bedroom door, eyebrows twisted into a frown. "Did you have to go to Antarctica for it or some shit?"
Amused, Chris says, "Nearly," before raising his own eyebrows significantly. "That's... impressive."
"Tch." Zaizen's head disappears for a second before he emerges fully, to snatch the grocery bag out of Chris's hands. He rummages in it for a second, before taking the cold bag out and laying it gingerly over his incredibly vibrant shiner. "Jesus, that feels good."
His nose looks slightly swollen too, and Chris raises a hand to touch it gently, prompting a flinch. "Did you have a nosebleed?" He says, feeling a tendril of concern wrap around his chest. "How hard did he hit you?"
"Yeah, it bled," Zaizen grumbles, adjusting the bag of peas so that a corner lies across his nose bridge. "Drunk bastard still managed to clock me in the eye and sent me over into a desk before someone got a hold of him. Sucks if he ever needs any reference books now, because he's banned for fucking life."
Chris's frown lifts slightly. "Good," he says. After a moment, he follows Zaizen deeper into the apartment. "Who knew libraries were such dangerous places to be."
"Shut up." Zaizen glares, but the effect is somewhat neutralised by his obvious reluctance to remove the peas from his face. Chris tries not to smile- but obviously fails, if Zaizen's growl is any indication.
He drops his bag by the wall and strides over to where Zaizen has slouched up against his tiny kitchen counter. Very gently, Chris tugs his hand- and the bag of peas- away from his face, so he can run delicate fingers around the bruised edge of Zaizen's cheekbone, already dark and purpling in the shape of someone's fist.
Zaizen doesn't so much as wince at his exploration, but the skin under his fingers tenses every so often, and after awhile Chris glances over to see half-lidded brown eyes, fixed on his own.
"You gonna kiss it better?" Zaizen mutters, like it's a joke, even though something in his eyes tells Chris otherwise.
It makes something in Chris's chest contract that Zaizen looks like he's bracing for another hit with every beat of silence that follows. Every second that Chris doesn't smile, doesn't laugh, just stares at him, Zaizen's face scrunches even more into a scowl, and his shoulders hunch inwards like a dog ready for another beating.
"I-"
"What's with the serious face?" Zaizen says, voice too loud. Grin too bright. "I was kidding, jeez. Don't need to look like I kicked a fucking puppy. My eye's gonna be fine, I just need to ice it anyway."
He looks away, but Chris won't have that. This is Zaizen, who's life has paralleled Chris's so much it's amusing on good days, and tragic on bad ones. Zaizen, who stretches his left leg out habitually when he sits for too long, who avoids mention of high school sports, who works three jobs just so he can avoid the hassle of a roommate.
Chris shifts his hands to cradle Zaizen's face gently, and tiptoes to press his lips softly to the ridge of Zaizen's eyebrow.
Zaizen's voice dies, and something in Chris's chest trembles, and when he comes back down his best friend is staring at him.
And the thing is, Chris has thought about this. Has made lists of pros and cons, variables to consider and hypothetical responses. He's known about Zaizen's feelings for him since they were both fifteen years old, but he always assumed the crush would just… go away, with time.
It hadn't, and neither had Zaizen. Their individual paths had come together and separated, criss-crossing over each other throughout middle school and high school before finally meeting again here, at the same university.
Chris has weighed his options. He's run the plays in his head so much he can run them in his sleep. This, this is the moment when the batter connects and the runner on third makes a break for home.
Chris blurts, "Can I kiss you?" at the same time as Zaizen asks, "What was that for?"
Zaizen quickly amends it to, "Yes."
So, Chris does.
---
Sometime later, when they're sprawled together on Zaizen's too-small futon, Zaizen grins his wide, wicked grin and teases Chris about getting turned on by frozen peas.
Chris thinks about it for a second, and gets up to fetch the bag, slowly melting on the kitchen counter.
After he's done with him, Zaizen can't ever look at a bag of frozen peas the same way again.
Chris counts it as a job well done.