Tags: emotional manipulation, [slight implications of] cannibalism Word count: 919
The rest of the team knew better than to interrupt the small amount of alone time that Midousuji had for himself. After the third years had left, he —the sole ace of the team— found himself taking on the role as both the backbone and the skin of Kyoto Fushimi. Like their jerseys, their bruises from his demands when it came to changing their training regimen left them purple, pink, and blue.
Most of the team, still strung together by the leftover bond of Ishigaki, often left to lick their own wounds together at the end of the day. Yesterday, they softened the blows to their ego with gari gari kun. Today was probably takoyaki. Probably, only because Midousuji hadn’t cared enough to tune into any of their conversations properly to make sure where they were going after the customary “thank you!” was said and “goodbye” was given. The only thing that mattered was that the team was gone and he was alone, long legs finally able to stretch languidly from the bench he was sitting on without the tension he placed upon himself when in the presence of his lesser teammates.
Then of course, the door to the clubroom creaked open and a barely familiar face looked in. A smile stretched a pair of thin pink lips wide open and Midousuji found himself grimacing, his own lips pulled down into a small snarl. Teeth for teeth, even if the reception was the opposite to the self invitation. It doesn’t scare Komari away and for a quick moment, Midousuji wondered if the time at the last Inter High had made him soft. The snarl deepened. Gum was shown. Komari only smiled wider, as if Midousuji’s annoyance and ire were everything he had wanted in the first place.
“Midousuji-kun, you’re not going for takoyaki?” The door closed behind him as the shorter male entered and made way toward the ace. There was no hesitance, despite the way Midousuji refused to pull back his legs or make space on the bench.
“Don’t be gross! Who would want to go out and eat food when it’ll be spoiled by filth?” Eyes narrowed, Midousuji leaned forward with both hands clenching each side of the bench as if to physically embody the disgust of being asked such a question. His head twisted to the side and with his nose upturned at the other cyclist, Midousuji sneered, “But why does the intruder care? ”
“Because it’s you, Midousuji-kun.”
Well, that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. Pure, simple, and very straight to the point. Suddenly, wariness settled in and Midousuji straightened his back. The wooden bench squeaked just a bit under the added pressure of his fingers.
“Haaa? Don’t be disgusting!”
“But I mean it, you know? You can trust me.”
Distrust was not the issue, in truth, but rather the result of facts and experience. Everyone was simply under him when it came to the road and to training. They were fine with barely passing the minimum. Midousuji had only one option, one goal and that was to be the one who won. There could be no minimum.
“Gross! Why should I trust you? I trust no one on this team so what makes you so—special, Komari-kun?”
“Because I love you!”
Midousuji couldn’t tell if he recoiled because of the sheer glee on Komari’s face or because of his words. There were few people in the world that would ever saw those three words and mean them when he was part of the equation. Those people, he knew or had known, and were all family. They had reasons to love him. Komari didn’t.
And still the younger man inched forward, lips parted and breathing heavily through his mouth. Both of the blue haired man’s hands were outstretched, as if hoping the act itself would will Midousuji’s own into their palms. His hands stay clenched against the edges of the bench. Komari’s doesn’t fall.
“I love you so much, Midousuji-kun. I love the way you speak, the way you handle everything. You’re always so honest and hardworking.”
Midousuji shifted, eyes barely keeping themselves in their sockets. What was the other man seeing?
“I’ll dissect and rip apart all of those before you, Midousuji-kun, if you only just ask. And I’m not asking for much, Midousuji-kun.”
Dangerous. This man, before him, is dangerous. Midousuji can press his lips together into a thin line, shocked to stillness if only because of the realization that there were only a few inches between them now.
“I just wanna be your favorite, won't you let me be your favorite?"
Komari was different from Mizuta. But the way they focused was the same. The degree? It was like comparing a candle to a hellblaze.
“Midousuji-kun?”
But he could use this. He could use Komari the way he couldn’t with Mizuta. The lack of hesitance, the overflowing sense of self confidence and understanding—Midousuji could use all of what is Komari to an advantage. He glanced away and then back, head still tilted up to the ceiling of their small club room with his nose upturned.
“You’ll do everything I say?”
When he looked back, Komari was smiling. His teeth was as sharp as Midousuji’s and a clean pearly white. Yes, Komari would be useful but Midousuji will have to be careful. Those that clean and wait patiently are predators and he’ll have to make sure he doesn’t lose a limb for his plans.
FILL: Team Fukutomi Juichi/Kinjou Shingo, T
Word count: 919
The rest of the team knew better than to interrupt the small amount of alone time that Midousuji had for himself. After the third years had left, he —the sole ace of the team— found himself taking on the role as both the backbone and the skin of Kyoto Fushimi. Like their jerseys, their bruises from his demands when it came to changing their training regimen left them purple, pink, and blue.
Most of the team, still strung together by the leftover bond of Ishigaki, often left to lick their own wounds together at the end of the day. Yesterday, they softened the blows to their ego with gari gari kun. Today was probably takoyaki. Probably, only because Midousuji hadn’t cared enough to tune into any of their conversations properly to make sure where they were going after the customary “thank you!” was said and “goodbye” was given. The only thing that mattered was that the team was gone and he was alone, long legs finally able to stretch languidly from the bench he was sitting on without the tension he placed upon himself when in the presence of his lesser teammates.
Then of course, the door to the clubroom creaked open and a barely familiar face looked in. A smile stretched a pair of thin pink lips wide open and Midousuji found himself grimacing, his own lips pulled down into a small snarl. Teeth for teeth, even if the reception was the opposite to the self invitation. It doesn’t scare Komari away and for a quick moment, Midousuji wondered if the time at the last Inter High had made him soft. The snarl deepened. Gum was shown. Komari only smiled wider, as if Midousuji’s annoyance and ire were everything he had wanted in the first place.
“Midousuji-kun, you’re not going for takoyaki?” The door closed behind him as the shorter male entered and made way toward the ace. There was no hesitance, despite the way Midousuji refused to pull back his legs or make space on the bench.
“Don’t be gross! Who would want to go out and eat food when it’ll be spoiled by filth?” Eyes narrowed, Midousuji leaned forward with both hands clenching each side of the bench as if to physically embody the disgust of being asked such a question. His head twisted to the side and with his nose upturned at the other cyclist, Midousuji sneered, “But why does the intruder care? ”
“Because it’s you, Midousuji-kun.”
Well, that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. Pure, simple, and very straight to the point. Suddenly, wariness settled in and Midousuji straightened his back. The wooden bench squeaked just a bit under the added pressure of his fingers.
“Haaa? Don’t be disgusting!”
“But I mean it, you know? You can trust me.”
Distrust was not the issue, in truth, but rather the result of facts and experience. Everyone was simply under him when it came to the road and to training. They were fine with barely passing the minimum. Midousuji had only one option, one goal and that was to be the one who won. There could be no minimum.
“Gross! Why should I trust you? I trust no one on this team so what makes you so—special, Komari-kun?”
“Because I love you!”
Midousuji couldn’t tell if he recoiled because of the sheer glee on Komari’s face or because of his words. There were few people in the world that would ever saw those three words and mean them when he was part of the equation. Those people, he knew or had known, and were all family. They had reasons to love him. Komari didn’t.
And still the younger man inched forward, lips parted and breathing heavily through his mouth. Both of the blue haired man’s hands were outstretched, as if hoping the act itself would will Midousuji’s own into their palms. His hands stay clenched against the edges of the bench. Komari’s doesn’t fall.
“I love you so much, Midousuji-kun. I love the way you speak, the way you handle everything. You’re always so honest and hardworking.”
Midousuji shifted, eyes barely keeping themselves in their sockets. What was the other man seeing?
“I’ll dissect and rip apart all of those before you, Midousuji-kun, if you only just ask. And I’m not asking for much, Midousuji-kun.”
Dangerous. This man, before him, is dangerous. Midousuji can press his lips together into a thin line, shocked to stillness if only because of the realization that there were only a few inches between them now.
“I just wanna be your favorite, won't you let me be your favorite?"
Komari was different from Mizuta. But the way they focused was the same. The degree? It was like comparing a candle to a hellblaze.
“Midousuji-kun?”
But he could use this. He could use Komari the way he couldn’t with Mizuta. The lack of hesitance, the overflowing sense of self confidence and understanding—Midousuji could use all of what is Komari to an advantage. He glanced away and then back, head still tilted up to the ceiling of their small club room with his nose upturned.
“You’ll do everything I say?”
When he looked back, Komari was smiling. His teeth was as sharp as Midousuji’s and a clean pearly white. Yes, Komari would be useful but Midousuji will have to be careful. Those that clean and wait patiently are predators and he’ll have to make sure he doesn’t lose a limb for his plans.
“Everything.”