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Maid for Mihashi

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"I don't know . . . c'mon! . . . no way in hell! . . . and why are we doing this? . . . you'll be fine, trust me! . . . he'll kill us! . . . this doesn't sound like a good idea . . . what are you talking about?  It's a great idea! . . . and what happens if we fail? . . . we won't, strictly! . . . I don't want to . . . it is eight on one . . . again, why? . . . wait, where did you get that anyway? . . . don't worry about that, more importantly does everybody know what they're doing? . . . what? . . . I guess no one is going to enlighten me as to why . . . how come you aren't opposed to this? . . . hey guys don't you think he's coming soon? . . . it seems amusing . . . it's not like he'll just give up on the idea . . . I don't know why I'm even agreeing to do this . . . really now, you of all people . . . so why him? . . . we're all doomed one way or another, might as well choose . . . I'm too young to die! . . . You'll be fine, I'm telling you!  Strictly! . . . I never imagined it would come to this . . . It's going to be strictly great, I tell you! . . . "

Abe twitched.  Really, if they were trying to plan something secret, they were doing a lousy job of it.  Their whispering voices carried quite well down the hallway.

He slid open the door to the clubroom, loudly declaring, "Seriously guys, not that I care, but I can hear your voices all the way down the hallwa--"



Abe had just enough time to look up in surprise before a tsunami wave of his teammates crashed down on him.

"What the--!?  Get off!"  He struggled and fought but it seemed like there were a million arms and legs pinning him down.  Meanwhile a certain clean-up hitter was yelling over his shouts of protest to do this, hold that, put this on.

"Alright!  Now grab his stuff and go go GO!!"

Next thing Abe knew, his teammates were gone.  He could hear their footsteps dashing away down the hallway.

"The hell?"  Then he looked down at himself. 


They had somehow stuffed him into a maid outfit, complete with puffy sleeves, frilly skirt, frillier apron, black stockings edged with white lace, and black garters.  Feeling his head, he realized with horror that they had even stuck a frilly headdress on him!

Completely red in the face and on the verge of tears from the sheer humiliation, he searched angrily for his bag intending to change before anyone else saw him only to realize that they had taken all his stuff.

Slamming open the door to the clubroom, he shouted down the hallway, "YOU ASSHOLES, GIVE ME BACK MY STUFF!"

"Hey Abe!"  He whipped around to see Tajima grinning cheekily at him.  Before he could do anything, Tajima pushed him so that he fell straight on his butt and snapped a picture before dashing away cackling. 

"TAJIMA YOU ASS GET BACK HERE!"  It did nothing to improve his mood to realize that he was now crying hot tears of mortification.

"A . . . A-abe-kun?"  He stiffened, making a surprised noise in the back of his throat, and hastily pushed his skirt down in an attempt to feel less exposed.  Not that it worked.  He shakily looked over his shoulder.

Mihashi was standing there, hands grasping the strap of his bag and eyes wide open, staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.  Abe could feel his tears increase threefold.

He whipped his head back to the front, glaring at the ground and clenching his hands tightly in his lap.  He watched his tears fall uncontrollably.  Of all the people that had to see him like this!

"Abe-kun is . . . crying . . ."  Abe wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a question.  He was going to kill those guys, starting with Tajima.  Oh yes, he was going to kill them one by one, very slo--

His eyes widened when he felt arms wrap gently around his waist and soft hair brush against the back of his neck.

Mihashi's breath was comforting and warm against his neck.

"I-I don't mind," he heard him whisper, "Abe-kun . . . is still Abe-kun, no matter what he wears."

Abe couldn't help but give a short laugh.  Even though they didn't help with the humiliation, Mihashi's words somehow made his situation that much more bearable.  That much better.

Unclenching his hands from his lap, he laid them gently over Mihashi's, and murmured with a small smile, "Thank you, Mihashi."



"Tajima, get back, they'll see you!" Izumi hissed.  He was tugging on Tajima's shirt to try and pull the shorter boy back from the corner where he was busy snapping photo after photo.

"No way!" Tajima protested, grinning, "This is way too good to pass up."  He wriggled and fiddled with the zoom on the camera, trying to get a better shot of the battery.

Hanai rubbed his face with his hand.  Sighing, he muttered to himself, "I can't believe I let Tajima talk me into doing this." 

"I don't think you're the only one thinking that," Suyama commented.

Sighing again, Hanai said, "I'm going to go check on Mizutani and Sakaeguchi.  Can you look after things here?"  He directed a glance at Izumi still trying (with varying degrees of success) to pull Tajima back, and another one to where a white, quivering Nishihiro was trying to comfort a trembling, pale Oki.  No doubt they were terrified of what Abe would do to them.  Suyama made a face but nodded.

Hanai walked off in the direction of the boys' bathroom where Mizutani and Sakaeguchi had run off to immediately following the "prank".  Mizutani had dashed to the bathroom with a hand over his mouth; after all, he was already marked by Abe with the whole shit-left business so he was probably thinking this was strike two for him.  And Sakaeguchi had that problem every time he got seriously nervous . . .

Hanai exhaled loudly, pinching his nose.  Sure, Abe was scary and off-putting at times but did he really warrant all this terror?  Though Hanai supposed he wasn't as scared because of his superior height but still, neither Tajima, Suyama, nor Izumi seemed afraid . . .

As Hanai approached the boys' bathroom, he could hear Mizutani vomiting loudly.  Why me? he thought deploringly before taking a deep breath and stepping in.



Abe stiffened when he felt soft lips brush warmly against the back of his neck.

"Miha--"  His face reddened for an entirely different reason this time as Mihashi trailed a hand up Abe's chest, gently taking hold of his jaw and turning it so that he could kiss the dark-haired boy.  First chaste, he quickly deepened the kiss, moving his mouth vigorously against the other's, wanting to taste as much as possible.

Abe struggled, making embarrassing noises in his throat as he tried to get Mihashi to stop.  He only ended up with his back against the wall, the pitcher gripping both of his hands above his head.  Goddam his unnaturally strong grip.  Abe also tried to stand up but he was kneeling in an awkward position so he couldn't get his legs underneath him. 

Meanwhile, Mihashi never stopped kissing, sucking, biting, licking . . .

"Mi-mihashi, n-not here," Abe managed to gasp at last.  Mihashi pulled away, flushed and breathing a little hard.  Abe stiffened, a bit taken aback by the sheer hunger burning in his dark golden eyes.  Continuing to stare at him, the blonde bit his lip as if he was debating something then deliberately leaned over to start nuzzling, kissing, sucking, biting, licking Abe's neck.

Abe yelped, panting, "Miha-AH-shi, stop!  Let g-go!"  He struggled anew against Mihashi's ungodly grip on his wrists only to freeze as he felt a hand glide up his leg and slide under the skirt.

"Mihashi . . . " he whimpered.  Not here, not at school, please!

Mihashi ignored him.  Or probably didn't hear him.  Either way, any lingering protests Abe might have had were quickly replaced with whimpers, moans, and gasps.  Since Mihashi still wouldn't release his hands, Abe couldn't even cover his mouth to prevent those shameful sounds from escaping.

He was hot, he was crying, his heart was pounding, he was trembling, oh god what was that, the sensations were overwhelming, oh yes, he was drowning, Mihashi's hand, his lips, they felt so good, he couldn't take anymore, he was gasping for air, he was at his limit, oh fuck, coherent thought impossible, just feeling and sensation, overwhelming, drowning, drowning, drow--OH FUCK HE WAS GOING TO--!!

At the last moment, Mihashi captured his lips again so that Abe's cry was muffled by the other's mouth.  Once he was sure Abe was done, he pulled away, bringing his hand up to lick his fingers.  He kept his hold on the other's wrists though. 

Abe, for his part, felt drained, head hanging limply from his neck.  He panted slowly, trying to calm his racing heart down and regain his breath.  He still quivered with lingering sensations that ran through his body over and over again. 

Mihashi watched him curiously for a few minutes.

Limply splayed against the wall . . . hands held above his hanging head . . . chest heaving . . . tremors still running visibly through his body . . . sweat dripping from his brow . . . maid clothes rumpled and askew . . .

Mihashi's heart started beating faster.  Abe looked vulnerable.  Tantalizingly so.

Just like earlier when he saw him crying.

Mihashi leaned in, eyes half-lidded, tracing a finger against Abe's lips before leaning in even further and kissing him softly.  The dark-haired boy reciprocated, the taste of himself strong on the other's tongue.  He swirled his own tongue around, trying to mix that taste with the flavor of the blonde.

They pulled apart after a few tender minutes, Mihashi releasing Abe's hands at last as he sat back on his heels.  At first, they just gazed at each other but after a moment, Abe reached out and grabbed Mihashi's shoulders, hiding his eyes under his hair.

"A-abe-kun?" Mihashi asked, alarmed.  His hands fluttered uselessly around, unsure of what to do.

"Mihashi," Abe whispered darkly.  Mihashi gulped.  "What the hell was that?"

"I-I-I wanted to-to . . . make Abe-kun f-feel better," Mihashi half-lied, eyes wide and slightly frightened.  He didn't have to mention that he couldn't control himself.  Not when Abe was looking like that, crying and in that outfit!

Abe shakily moved his hands as if to give him a noogie but right as Mihashi flinched in expectation, he fell forward, burying his face into Mihashi's shoulder instead.  "You idiot," he mumbled against Mihashi's shirt, "You were already making me feel better.  You didn't have to go that far.  Now help me up."  Mihashi hurried to comply, slinging an arm around his shoulders while grasping Abe's waist.  They walked back inside the clubroom wherein Abe immediately collapsed onto a chair, saying, "Thanks.  Now can you go find Tajima and the others please, and ask them to return my stuff?  I'm going to get out of these ridiculous clothes and clean myself up in the meantime."  Mihashi nodded and dashed out, leaving his bag outside the clubroom.

"Make me feel better, huh?"  Abe smiled.  Well, it had certainly worked.  Looking around for a tissue box, he slowly started changing out of the maid outfit, mood considerably improved.



Hanai, Mizutani, and Sakaeguchi had yet to return from the bathrooms.  The guys who remained stared at Tajima, identical blushes burning on all their cheeks.  The clean-up only grinned, unashamed as he flipped through the photos in his camera.

"Did . . . you know?" Izumi finally asked.

"That they were together?  Yeah."

"But the rest of us didn't--," Suyama started.

"That's because Abe keeps it on the down low at school."

"So how do you--"

"I could tell."  They decided not to question that.  After all, this was the guy who can comprehend Mihashi even when the guy wasn't saying anything.

"So then . . . why?" Nishihiro asked, scared of what the answer would be.

"Mihashi did me a favor some time ago.  I'm just returning it."

The other guys looked at each other.  Sometimes, the way Tajima's mind worked scared them.

"So why the maid outfit?" Izumi finally asked.

"Mihashi has a hard time controlling himself with the things he loves.  Think of how many times he's been yelled at by both Abe and Momokan for throwing over his daily pitch count.  Therefore, since it's probably the same deal with people, it was just a matter of one, throwing Abe off guard so that he couldn't yell at Mihashi, and two, making him less scary appearance-wise so that Mihashi had nothing to be afraid of from the start.  It could've been any outfit, really.  It's just I knew my sister had a maid outfit from when her class did a cafe for their cultural festival in her second year of high school."

The guys exchanged glances again.  The inner workings of Tajima's mind were definitely something to be afraid of. 

"Hahaha, I took some AWESOME photos today!"