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The morning of a game always began as any other morning.
Youichi’s alarm went off sharply at 6:30 but it was Kazuya who woke Youichi, by slapping his pec until the shortstop reached over and turned the alarm off. Kazuya’s sleep mask was askew, so his glare was visible alongside the familiar grumpy pout. And like clockwork, Youichi promptly kissed that pout until it turned into a satisfied little smile. The moment stretched on for what felt like forever, lips gliding against each other in a familiar dance. His mask was pushed up into his hair with one hand, while the other took the opportunity to brush fingers teasingly up his waist. Kazuya automatically flinched away from the hand, pushing his chest closer into Youichi’s, laughing into the air shared between them. He bit down on Youichi’s lower lip, tugging it into his mouth gently and watched the heat unfurl in his person’s eyes.
Youichi shuddered and let out a muffled, “Kazuya we don’t have time for this.”
Kazuya squinted in the dim morning glow, gauging interest before seeing the way Youichi’s eyes hadn’t left his mouth and the way the hand on his hip had tightened. He smirked softly, “I think you’re the one that needs the reminder, not me.” He pushed himself upright, away from the grabby hands trying to keep him in the warmth of their bed. The blanket pooled around his waist and Kazuya took the moment to stretch his arms out, enjoying the way his joints popped and released the stiffness from sleeping. He didn’t look down but relished in the comforting and heated gaze resting on his body. He was a professional athlete and damn proud of his athleticism, but there was something about the way that Youichi looked at him that brought a soft blush to his cheeks and fire blazing in his core. Smoothly moving the covers and stepping out of the bed, Kazuya turned to face his partner and felt himself soften visibly at the sight greeting him. Youichi was sinfully stretched out on the bed, all his hard planes calling Kazuya’s name like a siren and he almost wanted to say screw it! and climb back into bed. But then the messy bed hair and baleful glare sent his way had him snorting and coming back down to earth.
“Good morning Youichi.” He smiled down at his boyfriend and held a hand out to bring them into the new day together.
They circled each other around their apartment, one heading to the bathroom to get ready and the other turning the rice cooker on for breakfast. The coffee machine was chugging along while the kettle began to whistle. Miso soup reheated on the stove top while eggs and salted salmon were taken out of the fridge. Through it all, contact was maintained in some way, be it a hand on the waist as one stretched to grab bowls or a gentle brush of fingers across a cheek as the other turned towards the table.
Consistent. Familiar. Loving.
That’s what mornings were in the Kuramochi-Miyuki household.
He took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Crouching behind home plate, he glanced towards his pitcher, noting that Mei looked relaxed and cocky. Unsurprising, but appreciated, considering the stakes of this game. This was the penultimate game of the Climax Series and Kazuya had no interest in heading home with Youichi crowing about another win. Sitting at home and watching the Swallows glide into the Nippon Series last year was already one time too-many.
And speak-of-the-devil, the Swallows leadoff was already heading towards him from the dugout. The fact that the batter was his best friend, partner, and general pain-in-the-neck, Kuramochi Youichi, was just a bonus. But right now, wasn’t for Kaz and You, or even for Kazuya and Youichi. Now it was for 2-time Japan Series winning catcher of the Yomiuri Giants, Miyuki Kazuya, and “fastest shortstop in the league” and 1-time Japan series winning Kuramochi Youichi of the Tokyo Yakult Swallows.
He forcibly shook his head, ignoring the pu-pu-pu of Mei’s laughter at the mound. Kazuya was not going to get distracted by his boyfriend’s legs, even if the way the white pants clung to his strong calves would normally make him inhale sharply. Didn’t mean he couldn’t ogle and appreciate safely behind his mask. And if his eyes did take in the entirety of the batter, it was definitely for baseball reasons only. Analysis.
“Sup, Mochi. Ready to help the Giants win the series? I’ll make hotpot tonight when I win?” At every at-bat, Kazuya always took the opportunity to needle Youichi and occasionally just to check-in. Considering they’d seen each other only a few hours prior he was expecting Youichi to say something snarky back or even just laugh. Instead, he was surprised to see a much more serious look being sent down towards him.
“After you’re done chatting with the media, come back to the field, okay?” Youichi made eye contact only for a short second after speaking, before nodding to the umpire and digging in.
Kazuya blinked hard, brain having to rapidly shift from processing Youichi’s words to his game strategy. He wanted to tease, itching to press on the tone of the request until he could pry out Youichi’s secrets. But as he went to speak, Kazuya saw the scrunch of eyebrows and pursing of lips. Youichi was…nervous? His mouth slammed shut.
Nothing about this interaction felt consistent. It was unfamiliar. But still loving.
Kazuya settled properly into his crouch, flashing signs for Mei and for the first time in a long time, wishing the game was already over. He couldn’t even find it in him to relish striking out Youichi at the first at-bat because his partner didn’t even look his way at the end, just turning and walking to the next batter on-deck. He kept an eye on Youichi entering the dugout and saw Sawamura excitably rush over, babbling about something or another. He sighed deeply and prepared himself for the next batter, mentally going through the player’s stats and trying to ignore the way his stomach was clenching and twisting itself into knots.
Let’s get through the inning, then I figure out what is going on.
By the time the Swallow’s four-hole walked on again in the third inning, Kazuya could already feel his patience fraying. After every at-bat he’d found his eyes straying towards the visitor dugout as if he could glean Youichi’s secrets from such a distance. On occasion he could see Ryou-san talking to Youichi, a solemn expression on both their faces that looked quite out of place on the former Seidou wall pair. When it was Sawamura hounding his boyfriend, Kazuya noticed that the tension in Youichi’s shoulders only dropped a fraction; he was so in tune with every change in the shortstop after all the years of being together. Once Harada walked up to the plate, Kazuya forcibly dragged his eyes towards the other catcher and nodded in greeting. “Hey again, prepared to lose?” The remark wasn’t particularly sarcastic but sue him…Kazuya was allowed to be a bit distracted considering the circumstances.
However, similar to Youichi, Harada ignored his question and instead went on to say, “so I feel like I should preemptively apologize for Sawamura?”
“Wha—”
“I mean I know you’re well used to his particular brand of…excitement, but today might be a little over the top even for that?”
Kazuya had indeed noticed the increasing number of stares sent his way by the pitcher; the intensity of the glare only being tempered by the fact that there was an almost visible happy aura around him. “I mean, I have never been able to understand his dog-like behaviours in the past, but I’ll admit today’s behaviour reminds me of an untrained puppy that needs to badly pee.” He smirked when he heard both Harada and the umpire stifle laughter. He tilted his head back so he could properly meet Harada’s eyes, “So sure, I’m used to him. Why?”
And to his credit, the other man looked chagrined as he replied, “then, I’m almost sorry about Mei too.”
Kazuya looked at his pitcher in a renewed light, noting the mischievous smirk on Mei’s face and how each pitch had been coming with more power behind them, as if to finish the game faster. “What is he up to?”
The umpire coughed, gesturing for Harada to step up to the plate so Kazuya wasn’t able to grill the catcher any further. But now he had more information to deliberate over.
Youichi wants to meet on the field after the game. Sawamura won’t stop “happy-glaring” at me. Ryou-san is inexplicably serious today. Mei wants the game to be over. And Harada seems to know what’s going on?
Stepping up to the plate at his own at-bat in the eighth inning and receiving another knowing nod from Harada and watching the giddy smile on Sawamura’s face melt into a focused, intense glare had Kazuya’s hackles rising. Truly what had Youichi done? Still, he had a playoff game to win so Kazuya focused up, running through the different possible scenarios. From a purely analytical perspective, they were at a tied 3-3 runs, runners on 1st and 3rd, one out, and Kazuya’s RBI had only improved in the past year. So, if he were Harada, he would expect a batter to do a squeeze play; the infield had come in closer preparing for the double play. That meant Sawamura would likely try and throw some high pitches in hopes to counter his bunt. Kazuya saw that one of his base coaches was signing instructions to him and nodded in agreement.
I’m going to have to hit this between those two infielders if we want a chance for Kominato to get from 1st to third, while Sasaki clinches the run.
He confidently squared up and was already hearing high school Sawamura’s grating voice in the back of his head that “it’s all in the hips, senpai!”, Kazuya stifled a chuckle and awaited the first pitch. The first pitch looked like a ball and Kazuya decided to let the pitch count go up. One strike and another ball came his way before Sawamura finally threw a ball in the strike zone that Kazuya could work with. Smoothly, he let the grip on the bat’s barrel loosen and slide back down to the settle atop his other hand on the handle. Keeping his core tight, Kazuya swung the bat cleanly and sent the ball flying between first and second into the outfield. Hearing the “back home!” as he immediately took off, Kazuya grinned brightly. Easily making it to 1st, he leered at Youichi who had already started glaring back at him.
“So that’s why you’ve been late recently, practicing your shitty slug bunts. I hate you sometimes, Kazuya”
“Thank you!” Kazuya shot a cheeky smile at his partner.
Youichi’s glare had softened as their usual banter resurfaced, but didn’t fully go away, “not a compliment asshole!”
“Everything is a compliment from you, Youichi.” Even amidst the hectic game, Kazuya wanted to show Youichi that no matter what secrets the other might be keeping from him, Kazuya loved his boyfriend no matter what. Even if the game was definitely in his favour now.
And it was, the Giants won, 4:3, holding onto their one-run lead in the ninth inning and solidly beating out the Swallows without even needing to go into the extra innings. But the way Youichi was still blushing and staring at him with fire in his eyes had Kazuya pushing down a smirk so he could look appropriately respectful at the end of the game. There was still the question about what Youichi wanted him to come back onto the field for. And the fact that as he was doing his cool down routine and putting his gear away, Kazuya could feel eyes lingering on him. Turning around he could see Kominato and Mei surreptitiously keeping an eye on him, hovering as if Kazuya was suddenly a flight risk.
Surely, they knew he would be staying, not just because Youichi asked him to, but also that he’d be needed to go speak to the reporters after a winning game? In fact, it was surprising that Mei hadn’t already abandoned the team to go have his moment in the spotlight like he preferred. Another tick in the box that something was going on. Sluicing his hair with water from his bottle to remove the pool of sweat that had formed under his catcher’s mask, Kazuya then shook his head in the direction of a still-too-close Mei. Cackling at the dramatic shriek, he chuckled out a “go away Mei, I’ll be back after media like my boyfriend wanted, you and little Kominato don’t need to watch me like I’m about to be a runaway bride.” No one else on the team was standing nearby so Kazuya felt comfortable dropping Youichi’s actual role in his life, unlike the multitude of titles they had answered to friends, teammates, and media alike.
Thankfully his reprimand had Kominato blushing and Mei chortling good-naturedly. He walked out with Mei towards the already flashing cameras where their captain, Kyosuke, had been answering questions, alongside the head coach, Tanaka-san. Groaning internally, he pasted on his media friendly shit-eating grin. He knew he rarely answered the questions the way his PR team wanted or the way the media wanted him to, but frankly most days Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’d already spent 3 hours playing baseball at the peak of his athletic ability and today he’d had only half his brain capacity available for the game.
“Why do you think the Giants won today, Miyuki-senshu?”
Oh, the urge to says something unhinged at such an inane question, but he didn’t want to deal with the angry PR team again after his last stunt —they still hadn’t forgiven him and Mei for insulting one of the team’s sponsors on a live broadcast. So, he gave a boring response to these obvious questions. “I think like Kyosuke-san said beforehand, the team was meshing well, and we got played some good baseball out there.” There, now none of those vultures would be able to get anything ‘juicy’ from his media-appropriate answer. Ever since Youichi and him had graduated their respective universities and been drafted by different teams, the media had been on their case as to why they still lived together. The wanted salacious rumours, while anyone who knew the truth kept their mouth shut.
He did make sure to answer Owada-san’s questions respectfully, knowing that she, and Mine-san, had been following his career since Seidou. And their questions actually required more than a single brain cell to answer.
“Ah, Miyuki-senshu, could you explain what was running through your head at the end of the eighth inning, when you played that magnificent slug bunt?”
Kazuya happily answered, talking his ideas out and even mentioning how the Sawamura—Harada partnership had slipped into a slightly predictable pattern of pitch calling in the previous few games of the series, so he had been able to predict which pitch to aim for easily.
Eventually enough questions had been satisfactorily answered, Mei was now snarling in his ear that not even credit had been given to him pitching a shutout five innings, and Kazuya could feel the familiar mixture of contentment and adrenaline crash that came after a hard-won win.
“After you’re done chatting with the media, come back to the field, okay?”
The game was done, and he had finished with the media. Kazuya returned to his dugout, still in his compression shirt and uniform pants, but his cleats had been switched out for trainers before he had left earlier. On his walk back, Kazuya noted the suspiciously empty stadium — the lack of cleaners, fans milling around for that extra photo with the field, or even a straggling teammate. It was completely silent when he reached the dugout. And standing out on the field, in between home plate and the mound was Youichi. Facing away from the home team dugout so Kazuya could see every muscle in his boyfriend’s back tense up as he approached. A few meters away, Kazuya spoke, voice pitched so the silence would easily carry his voice. “Yo’, want to finally tell me what all the secrecy has been for? I actually thought Sawamura would have exploded in the 7th inning when he came up for his at-bat. He looked like he was really struggling to hold somethi-”
Youichi turned around and Kazuya almost stopped breathing at the sight of tears in his partner’s eyes. He rushed forward, hands automatically coming up to cup Youichi’s cheeks, and Kazuya immediately started scanning his face and body for the source of pain that caused Youichi to cry. He didn’t register the warm grin or the delight in Youichi’s eyes, so fixed on the rare presence of tears. It was only when Youichi looked down that Kazuya’s attention shifted, and he saw the ball and mitts sitting on the field.
“Want to play catch, Kaz?”
“We just played a whole game,” Kazuya gestured to the field with one hand, the other still firmly placed on Youichi’s face, “a playoff match actually. One that you lost, Mr-best-shortstop-in-the-Central-league, I might add. And you want to play catch? Are you a masochist now? Should I go speak to your sports therapist about what athletic endeavours you do in your off hours now?” He smiled lecherously, wiggling his eyebrows at the double entendre until Youichi stepped back to snort and laugh before bending to grab the ball and mitts.
“Shut up, god you asshole, I don’t know why I thought you’d make this easy on me if I did it with your true love?”
“What true love?”
“The baseball field, idiot.”
The matching soft smiles they were both sporting meant they had been mentally transported back to an eerily similar conversation, years earlier on a practice field in their final year at Seidou. “I thought asking you out would be easier here, your home?” “My home?” “The baseball field, idiot.”
Kazuya decided to follow his younger self’s same path, “make what easy, Kuramochi?” “Make what easy, Youichi?”
He grinned when Youichi blushed, just like he had done back then, and grabbed the mitt thrust at him. Waiting for Youichi to get far enough to throw the ball, Kazuya went to pull on the mitt and realized it was one of his spares from home. “Why did you bring my spare? Did you plan this You~ich~i?” He saw the red blush spread up the back of Youichi’s neck and snickered.
“…shut up Kazuya.”
They began tossing the ball back and forth, keeping things light since no matter what this was, they had both just played for over three hours and were exhausted. But every time Kazuya tried to ask any prying questions, Youichi would just smile secretively or tell him to shut up. So he waited, enjoying the rare chance of getting to play with his person in a non-competitive manner, and just spend time together. Although they lived together, so much of their days were spent apart, even worse when they were on the road, headed out in different directions for games. Calls and texts could only do so much. And on their days off, if they got lucky to be off together, they rarely played baseball in any form together, knowing if the media caught wind of the rival players practicing together it would create some kind of media sensation. And then the endorsements and TV interviews that both of them were expected to do. Thankfully, everyone had finally accepted that Kazuya’s appearance on social media would be limited to contractual posts only. So, this was nice.
Then there was a moment of hesitation, a delay in receiving the ball in the pattern they’d set, so Kazuya fully focused back in to see that Youichi was just staring back at him. Kazuya watched him take a deep breath and then raise his arm back into position to throw the ball. As it flew in the air, in the seconds of distance between them and the years of experience in him, Kazuya registered that it wasn’t a ball but instead a small box.
Still, he caught it deftly. A jewellery box, curved and painted to mimic a baseball. Kazuya’s head snapped up from his hand to see that Youichi had closed the few metres between them while he had been distracted. He watched silently as Youichi came close enough for the tips of their shoes to kiss and their noses to brush lightly against each other. For a moment, Kazuya held his breath as he waited his boyfriend out, to see what happened next, even though he now had an inkling. When Youichi stretched up slightly to place an ever so soft kiss on his forehead, Kazuya’s breath caught in his throat and a small blush began to grow on his cheeks. He didn’t feel the box being gently removed from his hand.
Youichi flowing smoothly to the ground onto one knee had the blush suffusing his face entirely. And Kazuya couldn’t remember when his lungs had last beheld oxygen as they screamed silently for his nervous system to unfreeze. Yet, he was locked into the stare held between himself and Youichi, silently watching his partner on the ground.
Youichi took a deep breath, once, to breathe, a second, to calm down, and a third, to remember a speech. The same pattern he had followed in university before giving presentations in his communications classes. Kazuya had sneaked many a time onto the Hosei University campus to hide in the back of classrooms when he could, so that Youichi would remember to breathe, and so that they could go on a date to the local ramen shop Kazuya was obsessed with.
“K-kaz, oh fuck. I didn’t know I w-was going to start blubbering at the beginning of this.”
“You’re the asshole who beat me by a whole month! I had a plan Youichi.” But he smiled encouragingly, nodding gently to remove the harshness of his words.
Inhale. Exhale. “Phew, okay. Kazuya, I can’t believe an asshole like you is the one my heart decided it loved.”
“Wow…really feeling the love here.”
“Shut up, Kazuya. But I guess, actually. Don’t shut up. Never shut up, because if you’re an asshole, I’m just as bad. We’re two assholes who love each other and I can’t believe you love me. You love me, the way I love you.”
Youichi sniffled, and it took everything in Kazuya to not sink down and pull him into a hug, but he knew there were more words to come, so he just whispered a soft, “I love you too, Youichi.” Sniffle.
“I didn’t know that asking you out in our third year at Seidou would lead to us playing on different university teams and becoming even closer. Living together with you in the dorms, and then in our old-ass apartment with the washing machine that only closed if a chair was propped in front of it and the smell of smoke we could never air out after I burnt rice our first year living there.”
Kazuya was fully crying now, tears rolling down his face, even as he laughed at the memory of them both panicking. He had never seen rice in a rice cooker burn and yet somehow Youichi had managed to do it. “I still don’t know how you forgot to add water.”
“Kazuya, you were walking around in just those skimpy boxer shorts of yours, you think I was focusing on anything properly?” Youichi was also crying, but a fond smile had grown at the memory.
He laughed brightly and teased, “ohoho? Sounds like someone thought I was hot, eh, Youichi?”
But Youichi didn’t rise to the bait and instead continued on with his speech, “From a chaotic college experience, to getting drafted onto separate teams. I still remember how tightly you grasped my hand that night, because what if we got drafted far from each other, or not even in the same league?” Youichi grabbed onto his hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it, before reassuringly smoothing a thumb on the skin there. “But instead, we get to play against each other often and get to go home to each other at the end of the day.” And there was a brilliant smile on Youichi’s face at that reminder.
Kazuya let out a watery chuckle, squeezing the hand in his back tightly to show that he was just as happy with how things had turned out.
Youichi’s expression turned a bit more serious for a moment, and his voice softened even more than before, “but Kaz, had one of us ended up in the Pacific league, or altogether somewhere far away, I would have never let you leave me. I know your silly mind would have tried to end us before your heart could get hurt, but I would have followed you to the ends of the earth. You couldn’t have gotten rid of me then, and there’s no chance in hell that you could now.”
Youichi placed another soft kiss on the back of his hand and Kazuya’s heart, which he was convinced had already stopped beating when Youichi knelt, skipped a beat.
“So, my love. After having decided that not even fate would have kept us apart, will you marry me Kaz? Will you promise to never make it easy for me? To be my consistency, my familiar, my love?” Tears were sliding down Youichi’s cheeks, and Kazuya didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight.
Before he could even open his mouth, a loud voice shouted, “hurry up and say yes, you tanuki!” Kazuya whipped his head around to see Sawamura in the stands, crouching down with a hand on the back of his head protectively , as both the Kominato’s had reached up to smack him. Amongst his teary vision, he could see others in the stands: Mei, Harada, some other members of their teams, and even some of their old Seidou and university friends who had known they were together.
Seeing their loved ones and looking back down at Youichi’s watery smile, Kazuya just laughed, a little insanely. He dropped to the ground, not into the familiar catcher’s squat, but knees hitting the field solidly so that Kazuya could fall into Youichi’s arms and press a fervent “yes, so many times, yes,” into the awaiting mouth of his fiancé. Fiancé.