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-you could be my unintended-

It's a little weird when it dawns upon Miyuki one night that he's actually attached. With a boy. Who is his junior. Officially speaking Furuya is his first relationship, which sounds a bit…strange, like Miyuki sort of expects himself to be more, well, well-versed in knowing what the hell he's supposed to do in a relationship, but truth is, he's probably not any better off than Furuya. Or maybe even less, considering that Furuya's the one who asked him out.

More than just going to places, the other had said. But what is this 'more'? Is it a rule that he has to text Furuya every day? Or more of the hand holding, kissing….or sex? Gift-giving maybe? These are the typical things people do in relationships but somehow it doesn't feel that simple. Neither of their schedules have changed since the date to the zoo the week before—school, practice, school, practice, with Furuya seeking him to catch his pitches at night.

It doesn't feel like they're in a romantic relationship; but Furuya doesn't ask for anything more, and Miyuki leaves it as it is. It actually gets a bit frustrating because Miyuki feels like he should be doing something, but all his temptations are terrible like pulling Furuya into the equipment shed to make out or wanting to make an indecent remark when Furuya stares at him too much during practice. This is partly the reason why he had said 'I won't be good to you' all those months ago—where he had meant it—and he still does.

Miyuki closes his eyes when he realises he had just completely zoned out for the past ten minutes, pressing his palms over his tired face after taking his glasses off. It's barely ten, still early, but there was a tedious match in the day. The rest of the team are probably in some unlucky person's room celebrating their victory, but Miyuki is in his own room watching the video playback on his laptop. It's always better to watch them as soon as possible before his memory blurs about what he had mentally noted during the match, and it's also always a good excuse to get himself out of the crazy things the team got up to while high on adrenaline.

Alternatively he could retire for the night, something he never got to do when the third years were around, but he's already halfway through the video. Rubbing his eyes a little more, Miyuki rewinds back to the moment that Nori was sent in to pitch and starts again, however, there is a knock on his door just as he presses the play button. He ignores it for a few seconds at first, but then another knock comes and quietens, and Miyuki knows exactly who it is at his door.

Furuya stands outside. "Can I come in?"

It isn't a pitching request, so Miyuki blinks in surprise, stretching the door open wider. "Is there something you need?" he asks as Furuya steps in and shuffles around before looking at Miyuki squarely.

"Can I stay here?"

"Um," Miyuki coughs, shutting his door behind him immediately. Stay? Like…sleep here? Miyuki's eyebrows raise slightly. "…Though it doesn't seem like it, but I don't live in this room alone, you know."

Furuya doesn't even blink. "I know."

Miyuki stares back for a few moments before realising that he might be on a completely different track of whatever train of thought Furuya is on.

Furuya speaks again before he does. "It's too noisy in my room."


"The team," the other clarifies.

Oh, Miyuki snorts. "They're going to realise you're missing soon enough," he grins. "Don't drag me into it," he says, opening his door once again to point Furuya out, but the other refuses to move.

"Miyuki-senpai, please," Furuya stares him down, looking almost desperate, and Miyuki feels a little bit of sympathy for the poor boy.

He hides a smirk. "Your teammates want to spend time with you," he says, crossing his arms. "It's good to get to know the players who have your back when you're on the field."

Furuya quietens, resolve deflating for split-second before he meets Miyuki's gaze again. "It's too noisy," he repeats. "And I want to spend time with you."

Miyuki's eyebrows go up involuntarily; he really needs to start preparing himself for this sort of thing. "…Okay," he agrees, but of course, "I want something in exchange if you're using my room to hide out."

Furuya nods immediately.

"…You're not even going to ask what it is?"

"If it's Miyuki-senpai, it's fine."

It's not, Miyuki wants to sigh, but Furuya merely blinks at him expectantly. Furuya really shouldn't trust him that much, not when he can easily think of a million things that he can make Furuya do for his own amusement. But because Furuya trusts him that much, Miyuki automatically feels guilt starting to bubble the longer Furuya looks at him with those honest blue eyes.

"…I can't win against you," Miyuki mutters under his breath as he closes his door behind him again. "Fine," he sighs, gesturing to the foot of his bed. "Sit down there."

Furuya obeys and Miyuki brings his laptop over to his bed, such that both of them can sit on the floor to watch the screen.

"I'm watching the recording for today's match," Miyuki begins. "Nori was switched in when you were called out—" he rolls his eyes when he feels Furuya gloom darkly beside him, "—and he did exactly what he was supposed to do. I want you to watch his play carefully, understand?"

There is no acknowledging response. Miyuki elbows Furuya in the side. "Are you ignoring me?"

Furuya looks away but eventually mumbles. "No."

Miyuki hides his snort and presses play. The sound of the crowd from the baseball match fills his room as they sit together to watch. Two innings later Miyuki almost forgets that he has Furuya next to him, too absorbed in the play, until there's a tentative touch against his hand. His fingers jerk in surprise before realising that Furuya is holding his hand while watching him.

Heat involuntarily rises up Miyuki's neck, but he forces himself to stay calm. "Are you watching the video?"

He feels Furuya shifting to look at the laptop again, but the hand hold stays. For the next few minutes it feels hard to breathe, his heart beat racing much faster than he anticipated. He leaves it, turning his mind back to the match. As Nori strikes the batter out, Miyuki glances over minutely to see that Furuya is watching the video intently, so he centres the rest of his attention back to the game. On the start of the eighth inning however, a heavy weight slumps on his shoulder. Miyuki leans slightly away, but Furuya's hair tickles his neck with the movement.

Miyuki nudges the other, eyes still fixated on the screen. "Furuya."

No response.

"Furuya, you're heavy," he mutters, using one hand to push up against the top of Furuya's head.

The pitcher is dead asleep. Miyuki futilely tries to wake the other by ruffling his hair but it doesn't work. With a sigh, he pauses the match on screen. He means to push Furuya off properly, but he can feel the soft rise and fall of Furuya's calm breathing against his neck, which prompts him to focus on the younger's sleeping face. Furuya's skin is pale and it's just as soft as he remembers, quivering weakly when he drags a finger experimentally across the pitcher's cheek. Furuya exhales softly, breath passing out of his lips. Miyuki swallows, knowing exactly how vulnerable Furuya is at the moment and he wants to—

He halts his own finger that's halfway tracing Furuya's bottom lip, dropping it quickly. There are some lines he shouldn't cross, but then, he can't resist leaning over Furuya's ear.

"Sa-to-ru," he whispers slowly, and Furuya stirs a little beneath him.

"Satoru," he repeats, louder.

Furuya shivers, blue eyes blinking open sleepily. Miyuki is abruptly aware that it's less than a centimetre to close the distance between their mouths. Fuck, there's a limit to how much Miyuki can stop himself and this time he doesn't, not when Furuya is looking at him like that, so innocent and open. The first touch is light, but Miyuki presses forward, hand slipping to cup Furuya's jaw to angle them better. However before he can part his mouth, a loud knock startles them both.

The door swings wide open.

"Oi, Miyu—" is what Miyuki hears, followed by a strangled dying noise.

Kuramochi freezes with his foot half into the room, face twisted into some sort of painful grimace. "….I. Did not want to see that," he manages after half a minute of awkward silence. "Shouldn't you at least lock the damn door?"

"Shouldn't you knock before you open the door?" Miyuki counters.

"I did knock."

"Knock and wait," Miyuki clarifies, adjusting his glasses.

"…Sure…" Kuramochi says slowly, gaze shifting between the two occupants in the room. "You know, I was going to drag you to the room, but I see you're kind of busy with the traitor," he gives a pointed look towards Furuya who merely blinks in reply. "Just…don't tell me about it. I…don't want to know," he says finally before he slams the door shut.

Miyuki stares at the closed door for a few moments before realising that his face is a lot warmer than he thought.

It's not like Miyuki is keeping count, but this is the fourth dinner that he doesn't see Furuya in the dining hall after their match on Saturday. It was merely a practice match and they did win, but Furuya had been silent and in a dark moody aura after, probably because the younger was pulled out before the last inning. It could also be provoked by a remark Miyuki had made later, something about the pitcher's terrible stamina—Miyuki can't really remember what he said to be honest, he's said those things plenty of times—now he says them half teasing and half out of habit. Point is, Furuya had apparently taken it to heart even if he had ignored Miyuki's snickering then. Practice is all well and good, but dinner is important as well.

He decides to take a look at the field after his own meal, nodding towards his teammates who are walking away from it. He can hear Sawamura shouting after Furuya the closer he gets to it, where he spies both pitchers running laps around the field dragging a tire behind them.

"Furuya, give me back my tire!" Sawamura yells heatedly, but Furuya just pushes on ahead, focused on something else. "Furuya!"

Miyuki raises an eyebrow and sits himself against the fence to watch the duo. The yelling and shouting continues until Furuya abruptly stops in mid-run, dropping his hands to his knees, panting heavily and coughing hard. Sawamura catches up in that time, and the other bends down and tilts his head to look at Furuya.

"Furuya? Are you okay?"

Furuya doesn't respond, continuing to breathe hard.

"Water? Food?" Sawamura asks, tapping on his chin in thought. "Dinner time is almost over, we should—"

"No," Furuya mutters, taking another deep breath before he starts running again.

"Furuya! Come back here!" Sawamura yells exasperatedly after him again, and the southpaw makes to run after the other, but Miyuki steps in.

"Sawamura, dinner is closing early today," Miyuki says with his hands in his pockets. "You should go."

"Miyuki-senpai," Sawamura greets, surprised. "But Furuya—" he points bluntly to the other far across the field.

"Don't mind him, I'll scold him when he comes back."

Sawamura turns to heave the tire into his hands, but he pauses before he walks off the field. "…What are you doing here anyway?"

"Making sure you two idiots don't injure yourselves," Miyuki rolls his eyes. "Get going, Sawamura."

Perhaps there's something in his flat tone, because Sawamura grumbles under his breath and stalks off the field without so much a compliant. Miyuki moves himself to sit at the stone steps where Furuya's water bottle sits to wait for the other to come back from his lap around the field. Furuya is a lot slower in this round, silhouette stopping even more often and at the last bit when Miyuki gestures him over, Furuya stumbles a bit before sitting himself down beside Miyuki.

"M-miyuki-senpai," Furuya greets, breath shaky.

"Aren't you pushing yourself a little bit too hard?" Miyuki comments, pushing the water bottle into his hands.

Furuya drinks way too fast as usual—Miyuki snatches the bottle before the other guzzles enough to throws up.

"What are you doing, Furuya?" Miyuki asks flatly. "Skipping dinner again?"

"It's not enough."

"And it won't be if you keep doing this," Miyuki snorts. "I thought Sawamura was the only one thick-headed about pushing himself too much; even he learned from Chris-senpai."

Furuya wallows in the quiet. "…I want to stay on the mound."

Miyuki sighs. "I know you do, but blindly doing this without regard for—"

"Miyuki-senpai," Furuya interrupts over his words, meeting his eyes straight on. "How did you get so good at baseball? In the match…you hit a homerun."

Miyuki blinks at the sudden shift in topic, but he can't help the automatic curl to his lips. "I'm just that good."

At Furuya's blank response, Miyuki decides to drop the smirk.

"Practise. Efficient practice," he clarifies. "You don't play good baseball with just brute strength and strong feelings. It's knowing what to do and when to do it. And also knowing what you can do, and what you can't."

When Furuya keeps silent, Miyuki sighs softly. "You're still a first year, Furuya. Not many can pitch like you can and you have plenty of time to grow."

"One year," Furuya says, and at Miyuki's questioning hum, he explains. "It's only one more year with you."

Miyuki stills. "…Aren't you looking too far ahead?" he says eventually, throat feeling tighter than usual. "This year isn't even over yet."

"I came to Seido because of Miyuki-senpai," Furuya speaks. "I thought it would be enough if you could catch my pitch. But now...I want…to win," he continues, blue eyes bright and clear. "With you."

Miyuki has to look away from how intensely Furuya gazes at him, collar feeling much warmer than usual. You're such a monster, Miyuki inwardly laughs, throwing him off so easily like that, time and time again, but he can't say he dislikes it. He hides a small smirk at the corner of his palm as he glances over.

"Well, show me, Satoru."

Furuya's averts his eyes shyly at the sound of his first name, hands coming to curl his fingers together. Miyuki likes the blush on Furuya a lot more than it does on him—it's not very often he can make Furuya flustered to the point that it's visible.

"Or do you prefer 'Toru'?" he muses, leaning closer and dropping his voice down low on purpose. 'Satoru' does sound a little too intimate for a casual use. "'Toru' is cute."


Miyuki grins. "You want to call me by my first name?" he murmurs teasingly.

Miyuki expects Furuya to nod wherein he can say 'you're ten years too early to ask that' or something to that effect, but instead Furuya reaches up to cup him by the jaw and kisses him, mouth on. Furuya's fingers are cold and clammy and trembling around his skin, rubbing their lips softly together before Miyuki unconsciously open his mouth when Furuya presses deeper. As their tongues brush wetly against each other, Miyuki's chest feels full, and it's the strangest feeling ever.

It almost feels like he's suffocating but at the same time he doesn't want it to stop, mind giddy and swirling. He can hear the soft breaths Furuya makes into his mouth, feel the gentle hold around his neck and his own hand pulling Furuya closer by the nape. Miyuki would slip his other hand around Furuya's waist as their lip lock drags on, but an abrupt cry of aggravation breaks him out of it.

Kuramochi has one hand covering his eyes while the other hand has his bat wielded, ten steps away.

"Do you two have absolutely no concept of—" he shouts, breaking off with an annoyed groan. "Fuck, I did not want to see that! Why are you two doing that here in all places?!" he demands.

"…Oops," Miyuki shrugs as nonchalantly as he can. "Furuya, you should go eat dinner, if they still have it," he tells the younger, cocking his head.

"Then will Miyuki-senpai catch my—"

"Yes, yes," Miyuki snorts, ruffling Furuya's hair. "Go."

Furuya bows slightly and takes his leave, steps obviously light and aura trailing bright behind him. Kuramochi watches all this with the same twisted grimace on his face, eye twitching.

"You really do like him," Kuramochi says after a while with an odd tone of voice, coming to sit by Miyuki when Miyuki makes no move to stand.

"I did tell you I always—"

"No," Kuramochi cuts Miyuki's flippant comment, anticipating exactly what the other was going to say. "Not like that. You know what I mean. I dunno. You. Look. Well," he squints. "Happy. With Furuya."

Miyuki makes a non-committal noise. "…Maybe."

Kuramochi pauses for a very long while. "….You're actually blushing," he says, tone weird. "Fuck, you're really—" but before his words cracks into laughter, Miyuki narrows his eyes steely at him and he chokes into silence. "Okay. I won't…say….anything…" but the rest of the "silence" is permeated with coughing and curses in between.

"So," Kuramochi clears his throat after a while, trying to keep a straight face. "Unless you want everyone else to know, you should stop doing…that…with Furuya in public."

"I know," Miyuki answers shortly. "I forgot."

"You forgot," Kuramochi repeats, skeptical.

"Yes," Miyuki says, clipped.

Kuramochi raises an eyebrow at the rather cold behaviour, but he guesses whatever Miyuki has with Furuya probably affects Miyuki a lot more than he thought. "Okay," he says eventually, clapping one hand on Miyuki's shoulder. "I'm going to take a bath. Night."

"Kuramochi," Miyuki glances at him before he leaves. "Thanks."

"You owe me, asshole."

Miyuki's smirk curls on his lips. "Sure."

"Miyuki-senpai, will you take a bath with me?"

Furuya seeks him out for a lot of things—mostly pitching—but this newest request throws him off more than anything he's encountered before. The pitcher stands outside his door clutching a small bucket of toiletries and a towel over the shoulder looking hopeful, and Miyuki takes a moment to gather a response. There isn't anything wrong with taking a bath together—they have communal baths and it's common to hang out in them, but it's the fact that Furuya actually asks if they can; but then again, they've actually never bathed at the same time over the past year, come to think of it. It's fine, but then again, it's not really fine, because clothes will be missing and Miyuki shouldn't go down that road too soon.

But again, he does a lot of things that he shouldn't.

"Well, I'm not opposed to it…" he says after a while, scratching the base of his neck. "But why?"

"I've never seen Miyuki-senpai in the baths."

"That's not really a reason," Miyuki shakes his head, but he leaves the door open and he searches for his toiletries and a change of clothes. "But you're lucky I haven't bathed yet," he comments as he leads the way towards the baths with Furuya trailing after him.

It's rather late into the night and the baths are empty—Miyuki isn't really sure if that's a good or bad thing as he strips off, heading to the washing area with a small towel. He tries not to think too much as Furuya rinses himself off beside him, but it is a bit fascinating to see how pale Furuya actually is underneath his shirt. Miyuki sits himself inside the hot tub after and releases a slow breath as the heat penetrates his sore muscles; it has been a while since he's bothered soaking than just taking a quick shower.

He can't see very well without his glasses, but by now he can tell when Furuya is staring at him too much, and this is one of those times.

"Where are you looking at, Furuya?" Miyuki teases.

"Can Miyuki-senpai see?" Furuya asks instead, hand curiously coming towards Miyuki's face, and Miyuki catches it before it lands flat on him.

"It's not like I'm blind. Just blurry."

"I see."

Miyuki grins. "You think I look better without my glasses?"

At this distance where they are sitting side by side in the water, Miyuki can see how Furuya stares at him in more thought. "…It's cute," the other says eventually. "Without your glasses."

Cute? Miyuki leans back more comfortably. "So…I'm not cute with my glasses."

"I like you with your glasses," Furuya says in return. "When you can clearly see me."

There something about what Furuya says that makes Miyuki pause. When you can clearly see me. Of course Miyuki sees him crystal clear through his glasses all the time, but that's not exactly what Furuya means by that, does he. Miyuki lets the next few minutes simmer in quiet between them until he speaks.

"So, is bathing together part of being your boyfriend?"

Furuya looks at him in slight confusion, and so he tries to rephrase the question.

"Is this something you want from me? For the 'more than just going to places'."

"I just want Miyuki-senpai to care about me," Furuya replies softly after a moment of thought. "More than a teammate."

Miyuki pauses, squinting a little. "...That's it?"

Furuya nods.

"So what," Miyuki hides his grin. "You don't want to kiss me?"

"…I didn't say that," Furuya says. "Then, what does Miyuki-senpai want?"

There are a lot of things that Miyuki wants—but at the same time, Miyuki doesn't know. That's his whole question to Furuya isn't it, about what Furuya expects from him in this relationship, because it feels too much like Furuya giving him more than he can ever think of while he's just taking without giving anything back.

"Whatever you want to give me…I suppose."

Furuya stares at him for a very long time after he replies, until suddenly Furuya leans into him and arms wrap around his waist under the water. Miyuki freezes immediately when his face connects with Furuya's bare shoulder, and it takes more seconds to realise that Furuya is hugging him close, so much that he can smell the scent of soap Furuya had used earlier on his skin. He wonders why Furuya chooses to hug him out of the blue, but at the same time his attention is drawn to the way Furuya sinks his weight into the embrace while Miyuki flounders with his hands, unsure of where to put them.

The thing is, Miyuki can't exactly remember the last time anyone held him like this—or maybe he's never been held like this, not with his parents nor with any of his…friends…teammates…acquaintances…—the same strange feeling returns, curling up tight inside his chest. Maybe it's the heat of the water, but Miyuki finds that he can't really breathe, throat tight. Miyuki's exhales are uneven, shaky, and that's when he realises that he's nervous, heartbeat thudding hard. And yet it's nice, this is nice, having Furuya holding him close.

You really do like him, the words Kuramochi said before echoes faintly at the back of his mind.

…He really does, doesn't he?

"Miyuki-senpai?" Furuya asks, voice sounding soft and worried, and way too close into his ear.

"I-it's fine," he manages, one hand coming up awkwardly to rest on Furuya's shoulder.

His scrambled thoughts, however, grind to a hard halt when Furuya leans his head into Miyuki's neck and Miyuki feels a soft mouth press against his pulse—fuck, is Furuya doing that on purpose

But that thought doesn't go very far either when the door of the baths slide open.

Kuramochi shrieks.

"For fuck's sake—" Kuramochi starts indignantly, eyes screwed shut as he tries to calm himself down. "In the communal bath?" he hisses, glaring. "You better change the damn water, I am not going in there until you do."

Miyuki splashes his neck with the hot water when Furuya leans away, hoping that whatever redness is explainable with the heat.

"My, what a pervert. What dirty thoughts are you thinking, Kuramochi?" Miyuki grins slowly. "Did you want to join us?"

Kuramochi stalks to the nearest shower head and turns it to cold, blasting it straight towards Miyuki's direction. Miyuki doesn't really bother to dodge it, instead, he stands up, making his way towards the other.

"Miyuki!" Kuramochi manages, sounding strangled. "I did not want to see that!" he yells gesturing the direction of the other's crotch.

"What, we're all boys here, it's not anything you've never seen before."

"Not when you're—" Kuramochi retorts, grimacing and decidedly looking away. "I'm leaving, fuck, my eyes, I hate you—"

Well, Miyuki might be a little aroused from what Furuya had—maybe intentionally—done to him before, but again it's not like it's something none of them haven't experienced before. Miyuki smirks wider and grabs Kuramochi's arm before the other leaves.

"Come on, Mochi, the water is still hot," he sings winningly.

"Oh my god—don't you dare, fucking Miyuki—"

Kuramochi tries to kick him off but both of them are almost equally matched in strength, which makes it hard for either one of them to budge. Thankfully Miyuki has other cards he can rely on.

"Furuya, help me drag him in."

Kuramochi freezes, eyes wide. "Furuya, you owe your senpai, remember? Don't you dare listen to Miyuki—"

Miyuki smirks widely. "Furuya, I'll catch your pitch tomorrow."

Miyuki can't hide his laughter when Furuya immediately stands up from the bath.

"W-what the fuck—Miyuki—!"

-you should be the one I'll always love-