When they’d officially “gotten together” – the phrasing always made Teshima smile with embarrassment – after their defeat at the training camp, Teshima and Aoyagi had agreed to be discreet.
“Not hiding, really,” Teshima said, as Aoyagi nodded. “But, you know, I don’t really want everyone knowing. Not right away, at least. This is for us, you know?”
So they were discreet. They still ate lunch together and rode during practice together and cleaned the club room together, that wasn’t different, just now they sometimes fed each other little bits from their bentos or let their hands linger when pushing each other off for sprints or sneaking quick, bubbly kisses in the empty club room.
Teshima’s family knew. They were all as smart and observant as he was, so they’d started giving them amused looks when Aoyagi stayed for dinner and they sat a little too close together at the table, or when Aoyagi would stay the night without a single futon being taken down from the closet. So they knew, and Teshima was too excited to keep it a secret from them, anyway. Not that he really would have been able to after the first week anyhow, when his younger brother had accidentally walked in on the two of them curled together on Teshima’s bed, kissing slowly. He’d made a noise of disgust and slammed the door, Teshima had gone red to the roots of his hair, and Aoyagi had mostly just found it funny and tried to convince Teshima to return to the kissing.
So Teshima’s family knew, and they thought that their bicycle club senpais knew, at least Tadokoro did, but still. Aoyagi’s family didn’t, and the rest of the club didn’t, and the rest of the school didn’t, and Teshima, especially, wanted to keep it that way.
“They’ll laugh at us,” he said fretfully, ignoring Aoyagi’s firm denial. “Everyone will. It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“No. Don’t be scared,” Aoyagi said.
“I’m not,” Teshima lied.
“It’s okay.”
“Is it?”
“Yes,” Aoyagi said, squeezing Teshima’s hand and infusing his voice with as much conviction as he could muster. It was okay. It had to be. What they had was right, it was right for them, so it had to be okay.
“We don’t have to tell anyone yet,” Aoyagi said, gentler this time, and Teshima bit his lip and nodded and squeezed Aoyagi’s fingers.
“I’m sorry, Aoyagi.”
“It’s okay.”
Still. Even with Teshima’s insecurity and Aoyagi’s worry over how his parents would react, things were great between them. Better than they’d ever been. Neither had ever felt so close to anyone else before.
The Inter-High was coming up, and Teshima was an excited whirlwind of preparation and strategy. Aoyagi let himself be swept up in the storm of planning and the current of anticipation and happiness and pride Teshima felt for being put in charge of the support team. He’d been surprised by the assignment, and Aoyagi had told him that he was stupid. Of course he was the best person for the job.
Teshima, in response, had blushed and thanked him and kissed him with hands tangled in hair.
Aoyagi had forgotten, just a little, the intensity of emotion that came with a race like the Inter-High. It took his breath away. He could see it in Teshima’s eyes, too, the passion and focus of their six man team seeping into his bones.
“This is amazing,” Teshima breathed, as the riders started the parade. “Aoyagi. Next year. We have to–”
Aoyagi nodded, clutching Teshima’s hand in a death-grip, watching the parade go by. “Yes.”
“Next year is ours.”
The emotional high kept building and building throughout the three-day race, until Aoyagi thought he might explode from the tension. He could hear it, and feel it, and it rattled around in his ribcage and vibrated in his ears and when he heard Onoda’s name, Onoda riding for the summit, for the finish, he didn’t even think, he just screamed and threw his arm around Teshima, squeezing as close, close as possible, adrenaline singing through his body and his heart stuttering to keep up. He registered, somewhere, that Teshima was hugging him back, had an arm around his waist and his chest pressed against Aoyagi’s back, but that wasn’t his focus, until Onoda and Manami came screaming by on their bicycles and the force of it ripped the breath straight from his lungs, Aoyagi knew but didn’t realize.
“Wow,” Teshima gasped, breathing hard, ruffling Aoyagi’s hair with each exhalation. “Wow. I – Onoda – wow!” He laughed, loud and delighted, and wrapped his other arm around Aoyagi and kissed his temple. “I can’t believe it!”
“Yeah,” Aoyagi said, because he couldn’t think of anything else, of anything that he could say to give the moment justice. He reached up to touch Teshima’s cheek, and Teshima smiled at him with shining eyes and then he pulled Aoyagi up and bent his head down and kissed Aoyagi, hard, right there on the side of the course.
Aoyagi gasped into his mouth, caught off-guard, his fingers fluttering against Teshima’s neck.
“Junta,” he managed to say, and Teshima made a non-committal noise between quick kisses. “Junta,” he tried again, more insistent, and Teshima pulled just far enough away to let Aoyagi speak, resting their foreheads together.
“We need to go to the finish line.”
“Yep,” Teshima agreed, and nuzzled against his cheek.
“People can see.”
“I don’t care.” Teshima laughed, threw his head back and laughed and repeated, louder, “I don’t care! Let them see. I love you, Aoyagi.”
Aoyagi let out an involuntary, surprised squeak. Teshima calmed himself, suddenly, brushing Aoyagi’s hair back.
“I really do, you know.”
“I…” Aoyagi caught Teshima’s hand, fidgeted with his fingers. “Onoda is riding for the finish.”
“We’ll get there in time. We have a car.”
“This is a big moment.”
“Yes.”
“We’re emotional.”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure…?”
“Yes, Aoyagi, a hundred times. I love you. For a while, now. I just. I never found the right time. That seemed like the right moment to tell you. Was I wrong?”
Aoyagi shook his head. No. No, he wasn’t wrong. “I love you too, Junta.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
Teshima’s shoulders relaxed, and his answering smile was loose and happy and calm, and he pulled Aoyagi close, again, for a hug that was more love than adrenaline, and Aoyagi melted into the embrace. They had to get to the finish line, but they had time. They could take this moment. They could have this, for them.
FILL: TEAM AOYAGI HAJIME/TESHIMA JUNTA, G
Warnings: None.
When they’d officially “gotten together” – the phrasing always made Teshima smile with embarrassment – after their defeat at the training camp, Teshima and Aoyagi had agreed to be discreet.
“Not hiding, really,” Teshima said, as Aoyagi nodded. “But, you know, I don’t really want everyone knowing. Not right away, at least. This is for us, you know?”
So they were discreet. They still ate lunch together and rode during practice together and cleaned the club room together, that wasn’t different, just now they sometimes fed each other little bits from their bentos or let their hands linger when pushing each other off for sprints or sneaking quick, bubbly kisses in the empty club room.
Teshima’s family knew. They were all as smart and observant as he was, so they’d started giving them amused looks when Aoyagi stayed for dinner and they sat a little too close together at the table, or when Aoyagi would stay the night without a single futon being taken down from the closet. So they knew, and Teshima was too excited to keep it a secret from them, anyway. Not that he really would have been able to after the first week anyhow, when his younger brother had accidentally walked in on the two of them curled together on Teshima’s bed, kissing slowly. He’d made a noise of disgust and slammed the door, Teshima had gone red to the roots of his hair, and Aoyagi had mostly just found it funny and tried to convince Teshima to return to the kissing.
So Teshima’s family knew, and they thought that their bicycle club senpais knew, at least Tadokoro did, but still. Aoyagi’s family didn’t, and the rest of the club didn’t, and the rest of the school didn’t, and Teshima, especially, wanted to keep it that way.
“They’ll laugh at us,” he said fretfully, ignoring Aoyagi’s firm denial. “Everyone will. It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“No. Don’t be scared,” Aoyagi said.
“I’m not,” Teshima lied.
“It’s okay.”
“Is it?”
“Yes,” Aoyagi said, squeezing Teshima’s hand and infusing his voice with as much conviction as he could muster. It was okay. It had to be. What they had was right, it was right for them, so it had to be okay.
“We don’t have to tell anyone yet,” Aoyagi said, gentler this time, and Teshima bit his lip and nodded and squeezed Aoyagi’s fingers.
“I’m sorry, Aoyagi.”
“It’s okay.”
Still. Even with Teshima’s insecurity and Aoyagi’s worry over how his parents would react, things were great between them. Better than they’d ever been. Neither had ever felt so close to anyone else before.
The Inter-High was coming up, and Teshima was an excited whirlwind of preparation and strategy. Aoyagi let himself be swept up in the storm of planning and the current of anticipation and happiness and pride Teshima felt for being put in charge of the support team. He’d been surprised by the assignment, and Aoyagi had told him that he was stupid. Of course he was the best person for the job.
Teshima, in response, had blushed and thanked him and kissed him with hands tangled in hair.
Aoyagi had forgotten, just a little, the intensity of emotion that came with a race like the Inter-High. It took his breath away. He could see it in Teshima’s eyes, too, the passion and focus of their six man team seeping into his bones.
“This is amazing,” Teshima breathed, as the riders started the parade. “Aoyagi. Next year. We have to–”
Aoyagi nodded, clutching Teshima’s hand in a death-grip, watching the parade go by. “Yes.”
“Next year is ours.”
The emotional high kept building and building throughout the three-day race, until Aoyagi thought he might explode from the tension. He could hear it, and feel it, and it rattled around in his ribcage and vibrated in his ears and when he heard Onoda’s name, Onoda riding for the summit, for the finish, he didn’t even think, he just screamed and threw his arm around Teshima, squeezing as close, close as possible, adrenaline singing through his body and his heart stuttering to keep up. He registered, somewhere, that Teshima was hugging him back, had an arm around his waist and his chest pressed against Aoyagi’s back, but that wasn’t his focus, until Onoda and Manami came screaming by on their bicycles and the force of it ripped the breath straight from his lungs, Aoyagi knew but didn’t realize.
“Wow,” Teshima gasped, breathing hard, ruffling Aoyagi’s hair with each exhalation. “Wow. I – Onoda – wow!” He laughed, loud and delighted, and wrapped his other arm around Aoyagi and kissed his temple. “I can’t believe it!”
“Yeah,” Aoyagi said, because he couldn’t think of anything else, of anything that he could say to give the moment justice. He reached up to touch Teshima’s cheek, and Teshima smiled at him with shining eyes and then he pulled Aoyagi up and bent his head down and kissed Aoyagi, hard, right there on the side of the course.
Aoyagi gasped into his mouth, caught off-guard, his fingers fluttering against Teshima’s neck.
“Junta,” he managed to say, and Teshima made a non-committal noise between quick kisses. “Junta,” he tried again, more insistent, and Teshima pulled just far enough away to let Aoyagi speak, resting their foreheads together.
“We need to go to the finish line.”
“Yep,” Teshima agreed, and nuzzled against his cheek.
“People can see.”
“I don’t care.” Teshima laughed, threw his head back and laughed and repeated, louder, “I don’t care! Let them see. I love you, Aoyagi.”
Aoyagi let out an involuntary, surprised squeak. Teshima calmed himself, suddenly, brushing Aoyagi’s hair back.
“I really do, you know.”
“I…” Aoyagi caught Teshima’s hand, fidgeted with his fingers. “Onoda is riding for the finish.”
“We’ll get there in time. We have a car.”
“This is a big moment.”
“Yes.”
“We’re emotional.”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure…?”
“Yes, Aoyagi, a hundred times. I love you. For a while, now. I just. I never found the right time. That seemed like the right moment to tell you. Was I wrong?”
Aoyagi shook his head. No. No, he wasn’t wrong. “I love you too, Junta.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
Teshima’s shoulders relaxed, and his answering smile was loose and happy and calm, and he pulled Aoyagi close, again, for a hug that was more love than adrenaline, and Aoyagi melted into the embrace. They had to get to the finish line, but they had time. They could take this moment. They could have this, for them.