Archive of Our Own

Eijun is too busy shoveling breakfast into his mouth to notice at first, and it's the choked, wheezing noise coming from Kuramochi to his left that finally gets his attention. His curious "what?" is squished through cheeks packed with rice, but it's the only sound in the sudden drop-dead silence of the dining hall.

Kuramochi is staring straight ahead with his jaw hanging open. Eijun swivels his eyes to the front with a sense of foreboding that churns the food in his belly. When his sight lands on Miyuki standing in the doorway Eijun stiffens with the kind of automatic reflex that comes from months of dealing with the other boy—teasing one minute and not mincing any words the next, throwing challenge after challenge at Eijun's feet until they can be picked up and pitched back. Eijun may be a slow learner in many regards, but he was very quick to learn that whenever Miyuki is the center of attention he'd best be on the lookout. With one glimpse he goes into high alert before he even fully registers what he's seeing.

The only thing Miyuki does under the entire room's scrutiny is shift his weight a bit and raise a hand in casual greeting. "Morning."

Kuramochi is the first to break the silence. "Y-you… you…" He laughs, but it's more stunned than anything.

"What's the matter?" A pointed grin appears readily on Miyuki's face. "Cat got your tongue?"

Kuramochi chokes again, and someone else groans.

Eijun sprays rice all over the table. Furuya is unfortunate enough to be sitting across from him but he barely seems to notice the grains now decorating his shirt, staring along with everyone else at their hotshot catcher who only smirks patiently back at them. Eijun lifts a shaking finger and finds his voice.

"Why the hell do you have cat ears?!"

Said ears flick once, triangular and dark-furred where they perch on top of Miyuki's head. He reaches up to tug down the tip of one, eyes rolling to try and get a glimpse of it, before letting go and the ear pops upright once more. "Beats me, they were there when I woke up. This, too." Something moves behind him. It's a tail. Miyuki has a tail.

Eijun's jaw works up and down. "You… but…"

"Yes, yes." Apparently bored of the reaction already, Miyuki moves to get a tray and load it with food. The profile view lets everyone get a good look at the slender appendage trailing out from under the hem of his loose shirt.

Maybe Miyuki is just messing with them. Maybe he lost a bet. But the furry ears swivel to catch the sounds of people attempting to go about their business, and the tip of the tail twitches back and forth. They don't look fake when Miyuki nears Eijun's table.

Miyuki pauses to take in the rice scattered everywhere, makes a "dude, really?" face at Eijun, and with an air of noble sacrifice lowers into the empty seat on his right. Eijun is too distracted to work up an offended huff.

"Soooo," Kuramochi says, waving his chopsticks vaguely in the air. "Cat ears."

"Cat ears," Miyuki confirms, spooning up some miso soup.

"And tail," Masuko rumbles as he resumes digging into his fourth bowl of rice.

Furuya belatedly notices the mess coating his shirt and Eijun comes to his own senses in time to squawk at the icy glare shooting his way. "It's not my fault, blame the cat ears!"

"Do they… feel strange?" Haruichi asks after handing Furuya a handful of napkins.

"Nah, I can hardly even tell they're there. Might not have even noticed except one of my roommates fell out of bed as soon as he saw."

Kuramochi laughs as if on cue, but it's not really funny. Nothing about this is all that funny. Mostly it's just weird.

Eijun stares, ignoring when Miyuki quirks a brow at him and calls him out on rudeness. There are still a pair of human ears peeking out from under his hair, but the cat ears definitely appear… functional. How is any of this not completely weird? "Can you still play?" he asks because if anything's still normal, it's baseball.

He's totally unprepared for the look Miyuki slants at him, sharp enough to cut and not the least bit humoring. But it's gone in an instant; Eijun could almost believe he'd imagined it, but there's never any mistaking when Miyuki is truly angry. Each time it happens leaves Eijun feeling like he's been bowled over. They're rare occurrences though, and the slip is proof enough that he's not the only one thrown off by the situation.

The swat to the back of his head is playful, and the brief ruffle of his hair afterwards might even be an oblique apology. Never easy to tell with Miyuki. "Of course I can play," Miyuki scoffs. "As if a little thing like suddenly sprouting cat ears in the middle of the night can stop me."

Haruichi nods along. "I bet your tail will be good for balance."

"You think?" Miyuki glances over his shoulder and Eijun can't help but follow his line of sight to the length of tail draping through the back of the chair, tip curled prudently off the floor. It's the same brown as Miyuki's hair, and just the slightest bit fluffy. Something so soft and tempting invites the urge to touch, which is downright alarming because it's Miyuki, and Eijun forcibly wrenches his head away to stare at his breakfast instead. He picks up his chopsticks and mechanically puts food in his mouth, trying and failing to put creepy cat fetishes out of his mind.

Even if the tail by itself isn't weird (and it's super weird, how does that even happen to a person?) it's not like Eijun goes around touching Miyuki randomly (hauling him by the front of his shirt doesn't count, that's always done in a fit of anger, not… whatever tail-petting would be. Everything is weird).

A memory bubbles up and bursts to life behind his eyes: the first time they met and formed a battery against Azuma, after Eijun's first pitch struck the ground and Miyuki gleefully confessed he'd set up the course to be a sure hit. He'd been practically vibrating with his amusement, Eijun had felt it with Miyuki's arm around his neck dragging him close and keeping him there in spite of his pissy struggling. Eijun's impression back then had been that Miyuki was the obnoxiously tactile sort. After enrolling at Seidou and dealing with Miyuki on a daily basis he realized it was worse than that; Miyuki just likes doing what other people hate.

Come to think of it, Miyuki hasn't manhandled him like that since then. Miyuki, it turns out, despite that first impression and all his talk about creating works of art, isn't a very touchy-feely person after all. Instead, the few times when casual contact is made, Eijun gets a tap of the catcher's mitt to his chest, or maybe a hand on his shoulder or in his hair giving it a quick, disorderly scrub. Simple, friendly gestures—and more importantly, they're sincere. Completely unlike the constant stream of facetious snark that comes out of Miyuki's mouth.

It isn't like Eijun hates physical contact (well, except when it involves being twisted around in a pretzel, Kuramochi being the main culprit there). He welcomes the exuberant arms flung around him in victory after a game, the claps to the back and light-to-bruising punches to the shoulder. The kicking and head-chopping after he makes a mistake are less fun, but even that's part of being on a team. It was different with Miyuki on that day at that time—of course he's going to resent being grabbed and called "partner" by a sly, suspiciously giddy bastard he doesn't even know, let alone trust. Eijun trusts Miyuki now, though, so…

Well, now he probably wouldn't mind.

But that still doesn't mean it would be okay to touch Miyuki's tail and now Eijun remembers Miyuki has a tail and everything's weird again.

He doesn't realize he's zoned out until an elbow jostles him in the ribs.

"Finish your breakfast," Miyuki says, already gathering his tray of empty dishes and scooting away from the table. "At this rate you're gonna be late for class!"

"Ack!" Eijun hurriedly inhales more rice, which he promptly chokes on when something soft brushes his arm and sends goosebumps racing along his skin. He hunches over coughing while Kuramochi pounds with too much enthusiasm on his back, and from the corner his eye he sees the blame-worthy tail flick out of sight.

He thinks, not for the first time, that Miyuki Kazuya will be the death of him.

♦

The ears and tail are still there when Miyuki shows up to practice in the afternoon, and just like that morning, he strolls out onto the field as if there's nothing unusual about his add-ons. The coach's stone face reveals no surprise, but Eijun shouldn't have expected to see any to begin with. For a brief and panicked moment he succumbs to the crazy, wild thought that maybe this is a normal thing after all in Tokyo and he's an ignorant country bumpkin for not knowing.

Then Haruichi—blessedly sane Haruichi—remarks quietly during their warm-up, "I guess the coach was informed beforehand. Looks like we'll just have to accept it for now. This is all very strange, though."

"No kidding." Eijun twists while he stretches, preoccupied by the sight of those ears on top of Miyuki's head instead of his cap. Somehow it's the absence of his trademark that really makes Eijun feel like reality as he knows it is bending.

Practice does not go well for him that day. He keeps getting distracted, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Miyuki when he's supposed to be working on his fielding. Balls fly past him or bounce out of his glove. His control when throwing is almost as bad as it was when he first arrived. Maybe everyone else is doing just as poorly, but he can't tell or even care because their catcher has cat ears for god's sake.

Later, when it's time for pitching in the bullpen, Miyuki calls him out on his performance with a snigger. "You're a mess today, Sawamura! Watch out, you know it's not unheard of to be demoted—just ask Masuko-san."

Eijun sputters in response, but more in confusion than righteous indignation. He can't seem to bring himself to look Miyuki in the eye.

The ears have been folded down to fit under his helmet. Shouldn't they hurt, pinned to his head like that? At first the tail was hidden out of sight too, but apparently Haruichi was right about it affecting Miyuki's balance and keeping it tucked under his clothes does more harm than good. He's forgone the belted uniform pants in favor of looser sweats so his tail can wave out behind him where he crouches opposite of Furuya, as solid and reliable as ever catching each missile that rockets into his mitt.

"Sawamura," Chris says, and there's a deep note of disappointment in the soft utterance of his name. Eijun hasn't heard that sound in a long time and it makes him cringe down to his toes before snapping back ramrod straight.

"Yes, Chris-senpai!" He draws himself up and salutes for no reason except doing so seems like a good idea at the time.

After a pause the sternness on Chris's face relaxes into an expression Eijun is more used to seeing; still serious, but with a dose of exasperation and a hint of fondness. "Sawamura," he says again, business-like. "First, you need to get focused. Pitch a few at the net so we can make sure your form is solid."

Eijun swallows down his protest with bitter effort. Pitching at the net is boring; it's ten times harder to focus there than having someone to catch for him. …On the other hand, he would be the first to admit his attention is wandering way too easily today. It wouldn't be fair to make Chris catch his half-hearted throws.

Gathering his resolve, he punches a fist into his glove and shouts, "Oshaa!" before jogging over to the net.

♦

Freshly washed, Eijun barely makes it past the threshold before Kuramochi pounces. There's a noisy tussle because like hell Eijun is going down without a fight, bumping into the bed frame and nearly tripping over a pile of dirty laundry. As always, though, he ends up immobile on the floor with Kuramochi sitting on his back, grabbing his chin in a camel clutch.

"Here's your punishment!" Kuramochi cackles, leaning back while Eijun grunts under the strain.

"Why am I being punished?!" Okay, so practice had been kind of crappy. It got better at the end!

"'Why', he asks." Kuramochi sighs to the empty room. Masuko hasn't returned yet, but would undoubtedly do so soon with extra pudding. Eijun had cleaned him out again.

"I'll do better tomorrow! I'll work hard! I'm gonna be the team's ace—ow, ow, ow, stop, I give!"

"You're damn right you'll work hard." The chinlock loosens and Eijun flops facedown, panting. Kuramochi's weight doesn't budge off. "But that's not what I meant."

Luckily Eijun's petulant glare is hidden from view. "Then please enlighten me, senpai."

There's a knock to the back of his head—apparently he needs to work on his sincerity—and then a rustle that's probably from Kuramochi crossing his arms judging by his lecturing tone. "Oi, Sawamura. I know you can't help being an idiot, but don't make things hard for Miyuki."

"What?" Bristling, Eijun tries to buck the other boy off to no avail. "What'd I do?!"

"I dunno, treated him like a freak all day?"

"I did n—" His brow furrows and his mouth twists in a frown. Did he? He stared a lot. …A whole lot. And after that morning whenever Miyuki happened to be nearby Eijun sidled away from that strangely hypnotizing tail. An ugly sense of guilt begins to gnaw at his insides. "I didn't mean to!"

Kuramochi snorts. "That much is obvious. Like I said, you're an idiot." He finally moves off, waiting until Eijun sits up and meets his gaze. "But seriously, calm down around him. Act normal."

Eijun screws up his face. "I get it, but the whole—" He holds his hands to his head to illustrate. "—It's really weird!"

"No shit, man. But who do you think it's weirdest for, us or Miyuki?" Kuramochi scuffs his fingers through his hair in irritation and crouches down to be at eye level. "Look, he's playing it cool, so the least we can do is go along with him."

Eijun nods his understanding. "I'm… kind of surprised there isn't a huge fuss from the school or, I don't know, doctors or the government or the U.S. or something."

"…I don't know what kind of cat-eared apocalypse you're imagining, but there might be some fuss, eventually. Miyuki skipped class today, so I don't think the teachers aside from the coach know yet."

Eijun blinks. "Oh." Then, "But… the entire baseball team knows. He wasn't exactly hiding anything during practice."

"Yeah," Kuramochi shrugs, "but that's baseball." At Eijun's blank look he rolls his eyes. "You're ri—not wrong, sure, word is bound to get out even if the team tries to keep quiet. But that's not going to stop Miyuki from playing, cat ears or no."

Miyuki had said as much that morning. Had been pretty scary about it, even. Thoughts begin circling in Eijun's head, but he can't make any sense of them. The only thing he's sure of is, "Baseball means a lot to him."

Kuramochi gives him a look that can only be called incredulous. "It took you until now to realize that?" He starts turning red in the face. "You dumbass! It means a lot to all of us or we wouldn't be here, you included!" He snakes an arm around Eijun's neck and wrangles him into a chokehold that has Eijun flopping around like a fish.

"More punishment!" Kuramochi roars, and that's the scene Masuko walks in on, balancing two puddings in each hand.

Taking a look at both of them all he says is, "Don't bully Sawamura-chan too much."

"He was asking for it!"

Eijun wheezes.

♦

The ears and tail are still there the next day, and with Kuramochi's warning ringing in his ears (not to mention the memory of pressure constricting around his larynx) Eijun resolutely keeps his staring to a minimum. He runs extra laps to clear his head, shouts extra loud to keep his focus, and apologizes in the most profusely archaic dialogue he remembers from his grandpa's historical dramas when the senpai yell at him for being too noisy. Afternoon practice goes more or less smoothly right up until the end when someone says the Thing.

Miyuki removes his mask and helmet and the ears pop up, angling this way and that as he turns his head. The fur is matted with sweat like the rest of his hair. He grins and makes some crack at Tanba, who scowls.

Eijun drags his gaze away and decides more laps would be a good idea before calling it a day. He heads back to the field where most of the first years are still gathering balls and putting equipment away. And gossiping, because apparently they have time for that.

"I still can't get used to it. I keep thinking of this cosplay gravure mag someone smuggled into class at my old school."

Eijun trips and nearly faceplants in the dirt.

"Kinky. It reminds me of that manga—the one where people have cat ears and stuff until they have sex."

"There's a manga like that?!"

"It's shoujo. Or maybe BL?"

"You could ask Isashiki-senpai about it."

"No way, he's scary. And I don't think he reads BL."

"Isn't there a game on Saturday? What are we going to do if Miyuki-senpai is still, you know, like that?"

"Well, maybe all he needs is to get some action."

"Wait, wouldn't that mean Miyuki-senpai is a virgin?"

Eijun can't believe he's hearing this. He'd yell at them but it feels like if he opens his mouth all the heat and pressure in his face will explode.

"What the hell do you guys think you're yapping about?" Kanemaru's voice blisters through the fray, and Eijun is so thankful for the interruption he could weep. Thank god for Kanemaru being a cranky wet blanket. Thank god. "Don't say that kind of shit about one of the senpai! At the game we're going to cheer for the team like we always do. Now shut up and get moving, none of you are going to make first string if you stand around talking about useless crap all day."

The rest of the first years grumble but the topic drops, leaving Eijun with a mountain of thoughts he never asked to have.

He ends up running laps until he nearly pukes, and the only reason he doesn't is because his stomach is empty from missing dinner.

♦

It's late when Eijun drags his exhausted, protesting body to the bath. That much is normal, he runs a lot at night. Usually takes a break instead of going straight to it after practice and through the entire evening, but it's probably not the stupidest thing he's ever done. Probably. He does make an effort to sneak his way through the dorm though because if Chris finds out Eijun will have to commit seppuku on the spot. What Chris-senpai doesn't know won't hurt him.

He makes it to his destination without being spotted and thinks he's home free, but as soon as he steps through the sliding door his stomach does a flip before it drops away entirely. "Uh," he says, because it's too late to quietly back out unseen. "You're here pretty late."

"Am I not allowed to be or something?" Miyuki sits in the corner of the bath with one arm flung over the side, and seeing him without his glasses might be even weirder than the cat ears. His eyes aren't quite as sharp, his expression not so conniving. Mostly he just looks sleepy.

Eijun feels his neck getting warm and suddenly the steam feels heavy pressing in all around him. He shakes his head fiercely. "No, I mean—I wasn't—you know, never mind. I'm going to wash now!"

He hears an amused snicker when he turns his back. "You do that. Don't break anything."

Internally cringing all the while, Eijun rushes through the motions of shampooing his hair and soaping his body. This might be worse than the time he shared the bath with the coach. Only when he's rinsing off does he consider the benefits of taking his time, allowing Miyuki to leave before having to face him again. But too late now, he can't just keep sitting here facing the wall like an idiot.

Maybe I'll just leave??

But that would be avoiding Miyuki again. He's not going to do that. Eijun slaps both palms to his cheeks and thinks, Osha!!

He slips a little on the slick tiles when he turns around to find Miyuki staring at him.

"Wh-wha-what are you looking at?!"

The corner of Miyuki's mouth tugs upward. "Ah, don't mind me. I'm just observing the behavior and habits of the unique species Sawamura Eijun."

Eijun approaches the bath resentfully, muttering, "I'm not an exotic animal at the zoo!"

"No, but you're just as interesting to watch!"

Any other time Eijun is sure he could work up an indignant comeback, or at least a proper fit of anger, but he's thoroughly exhausted from his running so all he does is sink low and sullen into the water. Dangerously low, because now that the heat of the bath is soaking into his sore muscles he finds it difficult to stay upright.

After an indistinct stretch of time passes he hears, "Oi, if you fall asleep I'm going to let you drown."

"No way," Eijun slurs with his eyes falling half-shut. "I'm too important to the team. You'd be doomed without me and you know it."

Miyuki's laughter echoes in the room, along with the sound of lapping water that's now coming up to Eijun's chin. "You are definitely the most egocentric pitcher I know—and that's saying something."

It's not exactly a compliment but Eijun is horrifically chagrined to find that part of him thrills at being acknowledged as #1 in something, anything, by Miyuki. At that opportune moment he slips further under the water and is too tired and mortified to do anything about it.

Logically, he knows Miyuki will fish him out, so the grip hooking under his arm comes as no surprise. What Eijun fails to consider as he's hauled up is the entire concept of proximity that the action entails, and coming out of the water he blinks at the closeness of Miyuki's wry expression.

"You just had to prove yourself right, didn't you."

Eijun barely registers the words, he's too busy registering other things like Miyuki is touching me and Miyuki is kind of naked and we're both kind of naked and I'd like to drown after all thank you.

"Um," he finally says after what's probably an awkward pause. Miyuki is still holding onto him, like he's genuinely concerned Eijun will slip again the moment he lets go and how exactly is Eijun supposed to react to that? "Sorry," he begins to babble. "I'm just—uh—I'm really tired. I think I'm okay now?"

After a searching look (and a bit squinty-eyed, given the absence of his glasses) Miyuki releases him but doesn't return to the other side of the bath. He settles next to Eijun. "Pushing yourself too hard is only going to cause problems. I know Chris-senpai has already told you about taking time to rest, and you should listen to him at least if you're not going to listen to me."

"I know," Eijun mumbles, red-faced for too many reasons to count. "I—" He's interrupted by the rude noise of his own stomach growling, because he isn't embarrassed enough already.

"Pfft." Miyuki's shoulders shake. Eijun covers his face in one hand and uses the other to hit at Miyuki, but all that does is release the floodgates of his mirth. The sound bounces off the walls. "You really know how to undercut a moment! Hahaha! What was that? Maybe Masuko-san is rubbing off on you?" Miyuki suddenly leans in, eyes too bright, and foreboding strikes Eijun like a lightning bolt. "You're not going to gain 10 kilos now, hm?"

A finger pokes at Eijun's belly. He makes a sound he isn't proud of and flails. "I'm not! I'm just—I forgot to eat, that's all!"

Water sloshes, some of it spilling over the edge of the tub. Eijun can feel his heart in his throat and it's a wonder he doesn't choke on it. He collects his breath, and after a while realizes Miyuki isn't laughing anymore. Another kind of dread fills him.

"You forgot to eat," Miyuki says, voice flat.

Eijun had been plenty preoccupied imagining Chris's reaction, but it had never occurred to him that Miyuki might not take the news well either. Maybe he's as stupid as everyone says he is. Helplessly, he holds his hands up as if that can defend against the onslaught of disappointment and judgment. "Just this once! It won't happen again!"

"It really better not." Miyuki eases back from where he'd been crowding Eijun's space, and Eijun feels like it might be safe to breathe again. Maybe. A loud sigh rises from Miyuki, who tips his head back and closes his eyes. "Kid, you really are a handful."

"Who're you calling 'kid'? You're only a year older than I am!"

"And yet the difference in maturity is so vast."

"Oi!"

"Anyway," Miyuki says, cracking his eyes open and sitting up straight. "You done here yet? It's getting awfully late."

The fight drains out of him and is replaced with confusion instead. "Huh? Uh, sure. Were you—? You didn't have to wait for me."

"Clearly I do," he says, bracing a hand on the edge of the tub to stand. "You'll either drown yourself or starve without supervision."

Whatever retort Eijun could fling back is lost and gone forever at the sight of Miyuki's back as he steps out of the bath. He's broader than one would think out of uniform and minus the added bulk of a catcher's gear, bare shoulders displaying all the evidence of his strong throwing arm. The skin below his high-necked tan line is pale, and water streams down along the dips and angles of his body. Protruding from his tailbone is a whip-thin length of water-darkened fur that he passes his towel over until it ceases to drip.

Eijun blinks several times. He'd completely forgotten about the cat parts for a while.

"Oi, Sawamura, hurry up before you get all wrinkly."

"Huh? Right—hey, you were in longer than I was, if anyone's wrinkly it's you! I'm totally fine!"

"Oh?" Miyuki half-turns with a hand propped on his hip and gleam in his eye to match the flash of a grin on his face. Even his tail hitches teasingly. "Are you bragging about your lily-smooth skin? Gonna show it off?"

Eijun feels like he's red from his hairline down to his toes. He'll claim to his dying breath that it's due to the heat of the bath and mind-blanking rage. "You—the hell are you—don't say things like that!"

"Trying to impress someone? Maybe that girlfriend I keep hearing about?"

"WAKANA IS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND."

♦

Ever since that ill-fated first day Eijun has made sure to set his own alarm every morning on his phone. With the loudest, most obnoxious ringtone he can find. He usually sets it earlier than either of his two roommates set theirs, and it's not without some vindictive satisfaction when he wakes up to them grumbling and turning over in their beds.

Today, though, the previous evening hasn't finished taking its toll on him, and so Eijun uncharacteristically snoozes the extra time away until Kuramochi and Masuko are stirring. They shoot him questions with varying degrees of concern, but he just tells them no, he's not sick, he'll get up in a minute.

Five minutes later there's a knock at the door. Kuramochi is the one to open it.

"Oh? What brings you here so early, Miyuki?"

Oh god. It's too early to deal with this. Eijun yanks the covers over his head, which apparently doesn't go unnoticed when Kuramochi adds with liberal suspicion, "Let me guess…"

"Yeah," Miyuki drawls. "I'm checking on that idiot. Sawamura, quit hiding and get up if you know what's good for you."

"I will! You didn't have to come, geez."

"Did you know…" Miyuki begins with such false cheer that alarm bells go off all over the place in Eijun's head. He throws the covers off, but too late. "…That this guy skipped dinner yesterday because he was running like an idiot the whole time?"

"Traitor," Eijun hisses, and then resists the urge to hide again when Kuramochi and Masuko both give him looks.

"Sawamura-chan, that's no good."

"Sawamura! Maybe a little punishment to start the day off will remind you to eat your meals like a good boy." Kuramochi stands over him with the face of an oni, cracking his knuckles.

"Now, now," Miyuki says, drawing Kuramochi back with a hand on his shoulder. Eijun doesn't know whether to be grateful or not since Miyuki is the one who got him into this trouble in the first place. "I'm sure he's learned his lesson already. We're just going to get breakfast, and not do anything stupid, and there will be no need to mention any of this to Chris-senpai. Right, Sawamura?"

Eijun groans. "This is blackmail, you villain." But he rolls out of bed anyway, because it's effective blackmail.

"Sticks and stones, Sawamura." As Eijun rifles through his clean laundry Miyuki leans against the bed frame and… files his nails?

Eijun chooses to say nothing but after he pulls a shirt on over his head he hears, "Damn, these grow fast."

Now he can't not ask. "What?"

In answer Miyuki makes claws of his fingers and swipes the air.

Eijun interprets: "You have… actual claws?"

"Part of the package." He files the nail of his thumb down and blows on it, eyeing the work as critically as a professional manicurist. "It's a pain, but after the issue with Furuya's nails any problem on my part would just be embarrassing."

A shudder of commiseration rolls through Eijun as he imagines throwing pitches with hooked claws. Honestly, he doesn't know how Miyuki can still act like this is normal, but if that's how Miyuki wants it to be, well, no choice but to follow along. And it's not like following Miyuki's lead is anything new for him.

"Okay," Eijun says, combing his fingers through his hair in a hopeless attempt to smooth down his bedhead. "We can go now. I'm starving!"

"Gee," Miyuki says dryly, and the nail file vanishes, "I wonder why."

"Are you going to bring this up for the rest of my high school career?"

The bend of an arm fits around his neck, but this time it's not Kuramochi's and the squeeze is suffocating for a different reason. Eijun gets reeled in and squished up against Miyuki's side. He makes a muffled sound into Miyuki's shirt and his nose is suddenly filled with Miyuki's scent (mostly his laundry detergent and aftershave). Then Miyuki's voice comes close to his ear, and Eijun hopes—prays—that the little shiver running through his body is mistaken for squirming to get away. "Don't underestimate me," Miyuki says with the same old wickedness that Eijun hears in an entirely new way. "I could bring this up for the rest of your life."

Miyuki's hold on him is tight, which is just as well, because Eijun is horribly close to going limp. His feet barely manage to keep up as he's dragged to the door.

"Now, let's go eat!"

While it's nice in a way that his senpai is concerned for his well-being, Eijun is one hundred percent certain of the fact that Miyuki Kazuya is the worst thing for his health, and possibly his sanity.

♦

Enough days have passed that it's no surprise when word finally gets out about Miyuki's unusual condition. There's only disbelieving whispers for now, because he's apparently still avoiding class, but the baseball club doesn't exist in a vacuum and there's no hope of even attempting to shore up the dam before it breaks.

Which isn't to say they don't try.

Kanemaru snaps left and right at people to mind their own damn business whenever they ask him about the truth.

Yoshikawa shrinks in her chair and stutters when cornered until Kanemaru gnashes his teeth at the people bothering her.

Eijun just sits like a stone at his desk. He doesn't even twitch, arms crossed and muscles locked, unmoving amidst the flutter of students all around him. He won't say a word, or give the smallest hint away, and it's taking every ounce of concentration in his possession to hold this position. He probably deserves a medal for the effort.

"Um, Sawamura-kun… you've been like that for ten minutes now…"

"Don't bother with that idiot, Yoshikawa. You can pretend you don't know him."

"But what if his face gets stuck like that?"

"The world will never know the difference."

Eijun breathes through his nose in a powerful imitation of Miyauchi. He'd glare at the others but that would entail moving. Moving could lead to speaking. Speaking could lead to bad places. He knows he's kind of maybe a little bit not very smart, but he'll die before spilling the team's secret. Miyuki's secret.

A poorly kept secret, all things considered, but still.

For what it's worth, his self-imposed muteness lasts the whole school day. The final bell chimes, releasing everyone from class, and Eijun is making his way through the throng of students when he hears a casual remark that stops him in his tracks.

"Wanna go check out the baseball club's practice? I hear it's a freak show these days."

Laughter. But what's so funny? Eijun clenches and unclenches his fists.

More voices join the first:

"Ah, the rumor about that second year? Isn't it too outlandish?"

"I heard he hasn't been in class."

"Would you show up to class looking like a cosplay otaku?"

"Let's go see for ourselves. Hurry, there's probably going to be a crowd!"

Eijun's jaw hurts, and it takes him a moment to realize it's because he's grinding his teeth. "Don't," he says through the clench of them. The word is raked gravelly from his throat, too low to be heard. He raises his voice to the sudden level of a crack and a boom. "Don't even think about doing such a thing!"

Movement around him slows and stops. Dozens of pairs of eyes zero in on him. He meets them all in a furious sweep, trying to pick out the group he'd heard. Not that it matters much. He's sure everyone was thinking the same thing.

Good. That means everyone can listen to what he has to say.

"The baseball team isn't a circus for you all to gawk at. Go find something better to do. If I see any of you there just to—to stare and talk stupid shit…" He draws in a shuddering breath, hearing Kuramochi's words echo in his head: don't make things hard for Miyuki. He remembers the plain disappointment in Chris's eyes. And how, aside from practice, Miyuki has been avoiding people at school, bathing later than everyone else, saving Eijun from drowning and making sure he eats his meals, and in general being a tricky bastard that Eijun should have learned by now to not so easily trust, except in the end Eijun trusts him very much. Because Miyuki has always only ever been himself, an altogether infuriating and awe-inspiring package, but someone who pushes and provokes and leads Eijun to places he never dreamed he'd go. Someone who's never let him down. Someone who takes great pains to hide his own weaknesses.

Someone no person in this school or this country or the entire world has any right to ridicule.

Someone Eijun respects a great deal.

And maybe loves a little bit.

…Or a lot.

In the wake of such a life-changing epiphany Eijun has every intention to make a grand statement. Something memorable. Resolute. Protective. Perhaps a dire threat along the lines of, "You touch, you die."

What comes out, defensively pitched like an out of control curveball when he wanted to throw a simple straight, is: "And what's wrong with cat ears, anyway?! Do you have some kind of problem with people with cat ears? Do you?"

There's a collective silence that lasts more than long enough for Eijun's stomach to sink. He spots Furuya in the crowd, easily identifiable by his tall stature, where he's giving Eijun his most judgmental non-expression and zero indication of helping out. No first-year pitcher solidarity whatsoever.

"Oi," someone says, and Eijun whirls with renewed conviction because that's one of the voices from before. His searching gaze lands on a boy from another class he doesn't recognize, but the look on the guy's face is a familiar variation on, 'what are you, stupid?' that Eijun's pretty used to seeing. "Cat ears, seriously? No matter how you look at it, that's not normal."

Before Eijun can retort someone else is suddenly calling out to him. This time it's a beanpole of a kid holding his phone out like… is he recording? "Sawamura-kun! I'm with the school newspaper. Is this a confirmation of the rumors?"

"No!" he snaps. "Get that thing out of my face! And you," he rounds on the sneering asshole.

"What?" the guy challenges, and he's big and imposing but Eijun is hardly tiny himself.

By now the scene is tipping over into chaos. The whispers are no more; instead there's a dull roar that Eijun has to shout to be heard over. And so shout he does. At full lung capacity.

Especially when the newspaper kid asks if he's admitting to a cosplay fetish.

♦

Eijun gets a glimpse of a shiny forehead under a receding hairline, and a fixed and rigid smile, before he ducks his head and keeps it lowered. For a while the only sound in the principal's office is the hum of the A/C. He already knows this isn't going to work like it did back at Akagi, where he could get down on his knees but still hold his head high and laugh in the face of Sano's frazzled lecture. The difference isn't in the man before him—this is the first time he's even seen Seidou's principal—but in the much more severe authority at Eijun's back.

The coach hasn't said a word since arriving with Miyuki as requested, and Eijun hasn't been able to dare a glance at either of them.

"Well then," says the principal after an uncomfortable stretch of silence. "This is quite a predicament, Coach Kataoka. I was shocked when I heard the story and now that I see the proof before me… I must say, this came out of nowhere."

"I apologize for not informing you sooner. I shall accept responsibility in whatever manner is deemed suitable."

Eijun's ears burn like he's listening in on something he shouldn't, and he devotes himself to willing the floor to open up and swallow him.

"Ah, well… yes, we can discuss that later. Certainly I would have appreciated being kept abreast of such… unusual matters."

"Highly unusual," the assistant principal chimes in. From Eijun's downward view all he can see of the man is the wringing of his hands. "And we're rather concerned, you see, about the spread of the news, and the impact it will surely have on our school."

Eijun bites his lip. Everyone is making such an enormous fuss over nothing.

Unreadable, the coach merely says, "I understand your concern."

There's another lengthy, awkward pause. Eijun lifts his head to get a peek at the principal sitting on the couch, expression stiffer than ever, and the assistant principal hovering behind him. They're both sweating lightly.

At last the principal speaks again, strained and abrupt. "I confess this puts me in a difficult position, Coach Kataoka. Of course the situation demands that something be done before things worsen… and yet I hardly know where to begin."

Just spit it out already, you balding geezer! Eijun moves his hands to clasp them behind his back so the two in front can't see them squeezing impatiently. He can feel a penetrating gaze from behind and swallows, but the tension won't leave his arms and shoulders, and the tightness won't unravel in his gut.

"No need to make a hasty decision," says the assistant principal in what could be interpreted as a reassuring tone.

"Yes," the principal agrees. "So perhaps a short-term solution will suffice for now. Nothing drastic. A reprieve of sorts, to allow us time to fully absorb the facts and determine an appropriate course of action."

"What do you have in mind?" the coach asks without any inflection.

A handkerchief is produced and used to dab at the principal's glistening brow. "I think a five-day suspension will do."

The assistant principal hunches down agreeably. "Yes, you know what they say: out of sight, out of mind! If the school atmosphere can calm down we needn't worry too much about attracting unwanted attention from outside. Of course, the suspension would also include club activities."

All of the air seems to leave Eijun in a rush, so there's nothing to carry the protest that blooms and dies in his throat.

"It's a shame," says the principal, his stiff smile turning into an equally stiff frown. "I understand that Miyuki-kun is a valuable player and there's a game this weekend. But, well…"

But nothing, Eijun is dying to say. His head is dizzy with the outrageousness of it. They can't do that.

He catches movement in his peripheral vision, and freezes mid-turn at the sight of the coach lowering his head in a bow.

"Understood," is all he says without a trace of resentment. He accepts the decision just like that.

"Boss…!" Eijun dredges up the word with ill-fitting desperation, but the coach doesn't even look at him. He spins to face Miyuki and finds him blank-faced. Their eyes briefly lock and something subtle shifts in Miyuki's gaze, more of a premonition of something than anything concrete. Normally following his lead is easy, but Eijun feels wrapped in a fog with no idea which way he's supposed to go.

So he does what he always does; throws straight and hard without thinking, just hanging onto the comet tail of his emotions.

He turns to the principal and bows a full ninety degrees. Hears a sharp intake of breath—his own breath, filling him and bolstering him right before declaring, "It's my fault!"

"Sawamura—" the coach says warningly, but Eijun's already started and can't do anything but keep on barreling ahead.

"It's true that this has been going on for a while but it got worse because of me! I just couldn't stand—I mean, I was wrong. I caused the school trouble today. Miyuki-senpai hasn't even done anything, so if anyone is responsible, it should be me. Please reconsider the suspension."

Miyuki's faint mutter of "you idiot" reaches Eijun's ears, but he doesn't move from his bent position.

"Er… Sawamura-kun, while your intent is admirable, this isn't a matter of punishment. No one is placing any blame here."

Then why does Miyuki have to suffer for it? he wants to shout, but ends up swallowing the words when a strong hand grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him upright. For a moment Eijun dangles on his toes, held by the scruff in the coach's iron grip. He half-expects to be shaken like a disobedient pup, but after a tense second his feet are flat on the floor again and he's left standing to blink at the principal's sweaty face

"Ah… so you see… that particular matter is not up for debate."

"However," the assistant principal inserts, "there is the separate issue of the fight you caused today."

Right. That. Eijun has just apologized for it but on second thought the instigating asshole totally deserved that black eye. And maybe the crowd of students had gotten rather excited. Maybe there had been some shoving. Maybe he'd elbowed that obnoxious newspaper kid in the nose—but that one had been an accident.

"Yes," the principal agrees, "we do not tolerate violence here at Seidou. The rules may have been more lax at your old school, but I'm afraid that is not the case here."

Eijun's spine locks up stiff and straight at the insinuation towards Akagi. What kind of place do people think his junior high school was? It was rural, not some delinquent-infested trash heap.

"Therefore, Sawamura-kun, you will also be suspended from both school and club activities for a period of three days."

He's stunned, but not for the reason anyone would expect. "Only three? But—"

"The decision is final." The principal leans back on the couch as if suddenly unburdened. Like he's the one with the most at stake here. "Coach Kataoka, this may make things difficult for you. Please understand."

The coach nods once, decisively. "We'll manage."

"But—no, wait—!" Eijun is bodily hauled out of the office and a ways down the hall before he's released. He has half a mind to march right back in but Miyuki blocks the way.

"Can't you see you're not helping?" The ears on top of his head slant backwards in irritation, and his eyes narrow dangerously. A bristling tail lashes around his legs.

"But it's not fair!" Eijun explodes.

Miyuki pushes his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose and take a deep breath. Several deep breaths. Eijun falls silent only because he's never seen Miyuki this affected before and that's the most worrying thing yet. "…Coach," he finally says, voice steady. "My apologies for this mess."

"It's not your fault," the coach replies. As always, the tint of his shades make discerning his expression even more difficult. "But it is what it is. We'll make do without you two for the game. Don't get lax in the meantime, I expect you both to return in perfect condition."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, Boss!"

"Good." He takes his leave first. It occurs to Eijun that practice has already started and he looks out the window automatically to where the baseball grounds lie. There's a pang in his chest but it just makes him feel guilty.

Three days or five days doesn't really matter, but the difference is that Eijun knows for certain baseball and the team and his friends will still be waiting for him. There's no we'll-see-what-happens question mark at the end of his sentence. Regardless of what the coach says, it's not going to be the coach's decision to make.

That fat, sweaty geezer, I really oughta—

"A~ah." Miyuki lifts his arms above his head in a long, indolent stretch. He's not looking at all towards the window. "I wonder what I'll do with all this free time."

"Isn't it obvious?" Eijun comes as close as he dares to hover, eyeing the ears that have returned to their default perk. "You have to get rid of these somehow! Then everything can go back to normal!"

"Believe it or not, the thought has occurred to me. I'm not sure I want to know what kind of ideas you're cooking up in that head of yours, though." A hand lands in Eijun's hair and messes it up, growing more vigorous as he tries to swat the offending arm away.

"Cut that out! This is serious!"

Warm fingers cup around the back of his neck and pull until Eijun can feel Miyuki's hair tickling his cheek. He stares wide-eyed over Miyuki's shoulder, frozen in place, arms stuck out at awkward angles because he doesn't know what to do with them, or how to react to the feel of Miyuki's chest pressed to his, expanding and contracting with each breath.

"Sawamura, I don't know anyone who's more of a hopeless idiot than you."

That makes Eijun jerk, an annoyed snarl shaping his lips, but then the fingers on his nape stroke against his skin in a completely unfair move and it's all he can do to not make a sound.

"So calm down, all right? Don't worry so much and just let it be."

Eijun simply can't do that, but once again Miyuki outmaneuvers him. All it takes is a nudge of his head to rub his cheek against Eijun's. Their faces bump together, and then Miyuki noses the disheveled mess he made of Eijun's hair in a gesture that's affectionate and… well… cat-like.

Eijun's hands twitch and his fingers curl reflexively. Maybe… it's okay to touch…

But Miyuki is as finicky as any cat and pulls away at his own leisure. The loss of contact is another shock to Eijun's system, and he suspects he has an embarrassingly plaintive look on his face in contrast to Miyuki's smirk.

"Don't forget what the coach said—no slacking! You especially can't afford to fall behind."

The familiar jab helps Eijun snap back to himself, scowling. "I'm not gonna! I'll be better than ever! And the team will be so overjoyed to have me back they'll cry tears of happiness, just you watch!"

Miyuki laughs and laughs as he turns to walk away, shoulders shaking and head thrown back. He waves a hand and flashes the edge of a grin before disappearing around a corner. "I'm definitely looking forward to that!"

♦

Saturday rolls in hot and humid with overcast skies. Eijun feels wrong standing around in his t-shirt and sweats while the rest of the team loads onto the bus in their competition uniforms. He grits his teeth and forces his attention to center on Furuya, who's pointedly ignoring him already.

"I know it's going to be hard filling in for me today but—listen to me, you stoic bastard! There's a lot riding on this!"

"It wouldn't matter even if you could play," Furuya says, still not even looking, "because I'm going to be pitching until the end."

"Oh yeah?" Eijun stomps into his space, and damn Furuya for being so tall as to make Eijun crane his neck up. "You and what stamina?"

Blue eyes flick down (damnit, not even Chris is that tall, and that kind of height should really be earned), but Furuya doesn't rise to the bait. "I'll definitely stay on the mound," he says, determined, and Eijun can practically feel steam coming out of his ears.

"A-anyway," Haruichi interrupts, hands raised to make an 'easy, there' motion. "It's true that we'll be down a pitcher this time, not to mention our regular catcher…"

All three of them glance to where Miyuki is conferring with Miyauchi, the former wearing his characteristic smirk and the latter nodding along seriously. Then Miyauchi snorts at something Miyuki says, nostrils flaring, and trades a comment of his own that causes Miyuki to grin wider.

His ears are folded under a hat and his tail is practically unnoticeable tucked inside his pants, adhering to the unspoken order that he not cause the school any more trouble with spectacle. He isn't going to the game, either, not even to watch.

For the millionth time, Eijun considers giving the principal a piece of his mind.

"Are you sure you don't want to come, Eijun-kun?" Haruichi's uncanny sense of timing extends to more than when he's at bat.

Crossing his arms, Eijun huffs. "I can't! No club activities! So even if you call me up to come save the team in your hour of need, no can do. All thanks to that greasy bald-spot lard-ball of a principal."

Haruichi tilts his head, all innocence and obscuring fringe. There's no telling what might be hiding behind the pink fluff. "You can't participate, but you can still watch like any other observer in the stands."

"He'll only disturb everyone around him with his noise," Furuya mutters.

Eijun is happy to round on him instead of addressing Haruichi's question, but a voice coming up from behind speaks, "The little bro has a point; you should go watch if you know what's good for you."

Slowly, and with a grimace building on his face, Eijun turns.

Hands in his pockets, Miyuki stares him down. The little tuck at the corner of his mouth might as well be a danger sign and his eyes narrow behind his glasses. "Or have you forgotten already what it means to be on a team?"

"Of course not!" Heat burns beneath Eijun's skin. Without warning, he cracks and splits open from it. "But what about you, huh? You can't just accept this!"

"I fail to see how it's any of your business."

He grabs up the thin material of Miyuki's shirt and yanks with a strength borne of unmitigated rage. Miyuki doesn't even startle, instead sliding smooth-featured into a poker face that rivals Furuya's. In contrast, Eijun bares his teeth. "It is my business. You're part of this team, too! And you're… you said… because we're partners!"

Miyuki's expression remains blank and unmovable. Eijun's fingers squeeze in his shirt helplessly, heart thundering with a bruising force that aches behind his ribs. A heavy weight begins to bear down on him but he refuses to lower his head in defeat, glaring with all his might into Miyuki's impassive eyes.

At last, a faint ripple crosses Miyuki's face. "Oh," he says, a single arid note followed by a light chuckle. "That."

Thump goes Eijun's heart, and then it might as well have stopped for all that he feels nothing afterward.

"You're confusing things, Sawamura." Miyuki extricates himself from Eijun's grip with ease because Eijun's fingers are no longer under his own command. There's a brief, impersonal tap against his chest that carries none of the weight of a leather mitt or a curled fist. "This is your strong point, but it's your weak point as well. Be careful not to set your sights on the wrong objective."

It's not wrong, he thinks, but is still too paralyzed for the words to come out.

Miyuki finds his grin again, disarming and lopsided. "Listen to me as your senpai just this once, okay?" The hand he claps on Eijun's shoulder has an old, vaguely familiar feel of unwantedness—just like that first time, Eijun remembers, and repeats the motion of shaking Miyuki off. He's more subdued about it than he was back then and likewise Miyuki doesn't make any effort to antagonize him further, merely steps away like it's nothing to call out to the now-loaded bus before taking his leave. And leave he does, without so much as a backward glance.

Eijun swallows, trying to get his throat to work. It feels like something has been knocked loose inside of him, a gear out of alignment, jabbing sharp edges into that vulnerable organ in his chest.

"Well then," says a pleasant voice from above, and Eijun looks up to see Haruichi's brother framed in one of the open windows with his chin in hand. "If that's the way you two are going to be, it's just as well neither of you are playing today."

"Oi, Sawamura!" Isashiki's distinct growl is loud enough to be heard over the start-up rumble of the bus's engine. He half-leans out of another window, seething fury. "You and that other bastard get this fixed before we come back! You hear me? The team's not gonna put up with your shitty drama!"

Kuramochi looms up behind the elder Kominato, grinning wide and maniacal. "You know what's in store for you tonight if you fail. Hyaha!" He makes a show of cracking his knuckles.

Someone hauls Isashiki back inside as the bus starts moving, and Yuuki appears in the vacated space. He holds Eijun's gaze for an extended second before saying, "Do something about Miyuki. Captain's orders."

Eijun's reply is the only possible reply.

"Yes, captain!"

♦

The thing is, though, that Eijun has no idea where to begin. What's he going to say when he finds Miyuki? It's not like he has a solution. There's just this heavy, dead weight sunk deep in his gut ("Oh. That."), and a tight, thorny feeling in his chest that aches as he runs. He's been running for a while now, enough to have worked up a good sweat, but his head hasn't cleared like he'd hoped. The thick clouds overhead mimic his predicament.

When the skies start to drizzle Eijun pays it no mind, the churn of his legs never ceasing. Lap after lap he circles the empty field. Wonders if everyone at the game is getting rained on. Whether Furuya is really going to pitch the whole game. He hasn't been able to attend practice or meetings to know what the plan is, and pride wouldn't let him ask.

Eijun shakes his head and sends water droplets flying. His fringe hangs damp over his forehead. There's no way that Furuya can last a whole game. He'll switch with Kawakami-senpai like usual. They'll hold the enemy down and on the offensive the senpai will score and we'll win.

And then they'll come back victorious and yell at him for not doing what he said he'd do. Well, Isashiki will yell. Kuramochi will contort him in all sorts of nightmarish ways.

He comes to a stop, panting, and leans over with his hands braced on his knees. The rain is coming down harder now, sluicing through his hair and making streams down his face. "What the hell am I doing?"

An answering boom of thunder sounds from overhead. Eijun straightens up in the newly charged air, inhaling deep, and swipes his hair away from his eyes. Then, with a determined shout, he takes off across the field toward the dorms.

Flashes of lightning illuminate the emptiness of the place. The baseball dorms are only ever this deserted when there's a game since even during holidays everyone stays to practice. Eijun skids wetly down a row of doors and reaches the only one that matters, throwing it open with the help of a stormy gust of wind.

"MIYUKI KAZUYA!"

A baseball falls and bounces off Miyuki's chest, his hand frozen in the air where he'd failed to catch it. A rare sight for sure, followed by the even rarer spectacle of the completely nonplussed look on his face as he sits up.

"Why are you—no, don't tell me. I can guess. Just how big of an idiot are you to be running in this weather? Even the game's got to be on hold!"

Eijun ignores him as well as the chill settling over his skin as the wind continues to howl at his back. There's warmth enough in his burning need to shout out, "I'm not giving up!"

Miyuki's face shuts down again. A cold, spidery thread of distress pierces needle-sharp through the heat gathered in Eijun's chest, but he refuses to let it spread and holds onto all that raging fire inside. Fans the flames with thoughts of that asshole student with the big mouth, the no-good principal, and a generous dose of self-flagellation for how quickly he'd crumpled under this tactic before. It's not going to work on him twice.

"I'm not giving up," he states again, thrusting his chin out. "I'm not confused and I'm not wrong. You're always calling me stupid but you—you're infuriating. You make fun of me and you trick me all the time, and then you go and help me. But you don't let anyone help you. So who's the biggest idiot, huh?"

"Sawamura…"

"I came to Seidou because of you, you know!" Now the heat is getting to his head, rising on his cheeks. He glances to the side but his words don't lose any of their force. "And now I know what a great team this is, with all sorts of amazing people like Harucchi and even that bastard Furuya. I really respect all the senpai (especially Chris-senpai). As for you, you're too much of a sneaky jerk to trust most of the time."

"Gee, thanks."

"It's true." Eijun swallows and takes a deep breath. "But since the beginning, you're the one I've been trying to climb up towards. I've always had my sights set on you. That's not going to change. So just—take some responsibility and accept that I'm not going anywhere!"

He turns his face sharply to glare only for his vision to be blocked by a towel flumping over his head.

"Okay, okay," Miyuki says, and there's the sound of the door shutting behind him. "Geez, you're flooding the place. Dry off before you catch cold."

"I never get sick," Eijun retorts, lifting the towel to peer out stubbornly.

Miyuki rolls his eyes. "Why does that not surprise me? But you know what they say about idiots and summer colds, so better safe than sorry." He grabs the towel himself and rubs it briskly across Eijun's head.

"I'm still mad, for the record," he grumbles.

"Would it help if I apologized?"

"Do you even know what you'd be apologizing for?!"

Miyuki chuckles and Eijun snarls, but before he can get a word out the towel falls to his shoulders and Miyuki's face is close, lightly butting against his own, turning to nuzzle his cheek. "I'm sorry for telling you what to feel."

"And for pushing me away."

"And for pushing you away. Not that it worked."

"Of course it didn't—are you purring?" That is definitely an audible rumble he hears coming from the vicinity of Miyuki's throat.

"I guess I am." Miyuki tugs him up the step of the small genkan and Eijun barely remembers to toe his shoes off. He's still soaked to the skin but Miyuki doesn't seem to mind as he continues to rub their faces together. And purr.

Wait, isn't this a scent-marking thing cats do?

"Wow," Eijun says in a daze as the realization—and its implications—sink in. "There's a lot more cat in you than first appears."

Miyuki makes a low, amused sound that Eijun instinctively knows means trouble, right before a rough sandpaper tongue licks his cheek.

Oh, he thinks, blinking wide-eyed as a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold skips through his body. That's going to be interesting.

♦

The bunk beds are really too small for two people to be sharing like this. The air is damp and humid and hot in the enclosed space, making it hard to breathe, but Eijun inhales deeply anyway because everything smells like Miyuki. The sheets, the pillow, and naturally the boy himself sprawled on top of Eijun, knee between Eijun's legs and hip pressed distractingly over Eijun's crotch. They both still have their underwear on, having reached this point on an unspoken 'whatever happens, happens' agreement, but the thin material separating them leaves very little to the imagination.

(Communal bathing has something to do with that too, although most of the time no one goes in there with a boner. Most of the time. Some memories can't be erased no matter how traumatic.)

A small sound escapes him when Miyuki nips the column of Eijun's neck with teeth that he thinks might be a little longer and sharper than normal. At least, that was the impression he got when he had his tongue in Miyuki's mouth. The brief pinch of the bite is replaced with wet, languid suction, and Eijun curls his hands where they rest on Miyuki's back. He tries to shift his hips but Miyuki's weight settled across him won't budge. When Eijun whines in his throat all Miyuki does is laugh quietly, breath puffing against the side of his neck.

"I should have known you'd be impatient and demanding."

His protest is automatic. "I'm not—!" But when his brain catches up he realizes it's not a point worth arguing. "Then hurry up and move," he hisses instead, bringing the leg that isn't trapped up in a bend so he can dig his heel into the small of Miyuki's back, right above the fluff starting at the base of his tail.

Neither of them quite expects the groan Miyuki lets out, or the way his eyes go dark and lidded, but Eijun doesn't have a chance to contemplate the reaction when suddenly Miyuki grinds down on top of his cock. Eijun's mouth falls open at the jolt of friction, squirming into the rush of heat pooling there. His hands grasp and slide over skin as Miyuki inches down his body, pressing kisses to collarbone and chest. The amazing pressure on his cock eases and Eijun growls, then gasps when Miyuki swipes the rough flat of his tongue over a nipple.

Miyuki grins, evilly, and does it again. Eijun winces; the sensation is a little too much, it kind of hurts. He's prepared to yell if it happens a third time but instead there are warm lips closing over the raised peak, a touch that's soft and wet.

"Teasing bastard," Eijun accuses, flushed and breathless.

The scratchy side of the tongue returns and Eijun cries out. It still hurts, but his cock twitches like maybe that's not entirely bad. Miyuki lifts his face from the over-stimulated nipple with a smug curl on his lips and a knowing gleam in his eye.

Eijun punches his shoulder just on principle.

"Ow," Miyuki intones, but he still looks like he's laughing inside. Eijun can only feel resigned. It's not like he expects Miyuki to be any different in bed than out of it.

"Would you just get on with it?!"

The thoughtful hum Miyuki makes as he slides back up and spoons along Eijun's side does little to assuage his wariness. "Maybe if you asked more nicely," Miyuki says, trailing his lips along Eijun's jaw.

"Please, senpai?" Eijun tries to make his eyes big and sparkly like in the shoujo manga Isashiki reads, then scowls when all Miyuki does is laugh. "Oh, come on!" He seriously considers pushing him off the bed.

"I said nice, not creepy!" Miyuki insists. Eijun tries to roll over so he can punch him again, but Miyuki has gotten his arms around Eijun, holding him in place. "Okay, okay, how about this." He puts his lips close enough to brush the shell of Eijun's ear. "You do it, and I'll watch."

Eijun's face goes up in flames. "You mean…?"

"I want to see how you touch yourself."

Half a dozen thoughts fly through Eijun's head. That's the most embarrassing thing I can think of doing, and Of fucking course Miyuki Kazuya is a pervert, and I've never been this hard before in my life. "…You're serious."

"Absolutely." Miyuki nuzzles and kisses his temple. "If you're okay with it."

Well, it's not what he imagined… he's not sure what he imagined to begin with. Oh, hell, what's the harm? He'll go crazy if he doesn't get any relief soon anyway. Eijun licks his lips and starts to move his hand down his belly. "If you laugh," he warns, hesitating at his waistband, "I'll kick you out of this bed. See if I don't."

"It's my bed in the first place," Miyuki points out, as if that matters to Eijun. "But yes, fine, no laughing." He catches the lobe of Eijun's ear in his teeth and tugs, murmuring, "So show me something good."

Eijun doubts it'll be anything special but it's what his catcher asked for and Miyuki doesn't steer him wrong (…most of the time). He closes his eyes and focuses more on the secure feeling of Miyuki's arms around him than the nervous jump of muscle under his palm. The sound and gentle stirring of breath along the side of his face. The faint, consistent purr emanating from Miyuki's throat.

He takes the plunge so to speak and shoves his hand down inside his underwear, groaning as he takes hold of his stiff dick and draws it out. There's slickness smeared over the tip already and he swirls his thumb over it, relishing in the familiar touch. It's actually been a while since he last jerked off. Sharing a room with two other people doesn't allow for a lot of privacy, and the typical day full of baseball and classes and more baseball and more training usually leaves him plenty exhausted by bedtime besides. So his strokes start slow and leisurely, working himself at a pace he can take the time to enjoy in the comfort of Miyuki's arms.

It's a little different, having company, and being aware of the hardness lined up against his hip. Miyuki presses into him in small, hitching movements, less trying to get off and more feeding his pleasure at a low burn. Eijun really wants to see him lose that equilibrium, see him flushed and shaking as he comes apart, and the force of that vivid image behind Eijun's eyelids quickens his hand.

There's a tug and a whisper of cool air as Miyuki peels Eijun's underwear lower down his thighs, exposing him completely. No touching beyond that, though. Eijun swallows a noise that might betray disappointment. This is nice, but he craves Miyuki's hands on him, even if he's an awful tease about it. He wants to know what those calluses feel like on his heated flesh, similar but subtly different than the ones raised on his own hands. He wants to know how Miyuki would draw out his pleasure in bed as expertly as he draws out his potential on the field.

Eijun cracks his eyes open to see if this is actually doing anything for Miyuki, and oh. Yeah. Apparently it really is. Miyuki is watching him with the heightened intensity he normally reserves for a particularly daring play during a game, but Eijun is willing to bet none of those times were his eyes so blown with naked desire.

By now Eijun is speeding towards the end. He's thrusting up into his grip, squeezing around the head, and Miyuki is moving more intently against him. He's really that affected from just watching. "Kinky bastard," Eijun pants, and Miyuki doesn't look away but he grins, quick and sharp.

"I bet I'm not the only one," he purrs, and then croons directly into Eijun's ear, "You look so good, Eijun."

It's almost humiliating how hard he comes after hearing that. His mind goes white and utterly blissful, rendering him unaware of anything else for an unfathomable period until Miyuki is cupping his face and kissing him back into reality. "Still with me, Sawamura?"

"Of course," he says, too post-orgasmic to inject any offended airs into it.

Miyuki brushes his thumbs over Eijun's cheekbones and murmurs hotly against his mouth, "Good boy."

Eijun is spent for the moment but that doesn't stop the little electric tingle that goes up his spine. It's followed by a much darker feeling as Miyuki snickers, the ban on laughing apparently lifted. He bumps their sweaty foreheads together, eyes glittering. "So. A praise kink, huh?"

Horror dawns on Eijun's face as he realizes what kind of terrible weapon has just been placed in the hands of the worst person in the universe. "No!"

Miyuki's Cheshire grin is probably the last thing Eijun will see before he dies a horrible death. "Care to test that?"

"You're wrong. Wrong like a wrong thing."

"We'll see," Miyuki says with cheerful foreboding. He drops one more kiss and a sandpaper lick over Eijun's cheek before rolling off him and stretching on his side.

"Oh," Eijun starts, remembering. "What about you…?"

Miyuki's grin turns a bit wry. He flaps a hand. "I'm good."

"You…" Eijun drops his gaze to Miyuki's crotch. And the sizable wet spot there. "What? When?! And I missed it?"

Miyuki bursts out laughing and nearly falls off the bed while Eijun can only stare in mingled disbelief and disappointment.

"How is that fair? You saw everything!"

"Next time, okay? Next time."

Eijun's mounting whine-fest pauses. He does like the sound of 'next time.'

Miyuki nudges him. "Better? Now move over, brat. You take up way too much space."

He grumbles but obeys, only because that makes it easier to latch onto Miyuki and make doubly sure he isn't going anywhere. Eijun is a sticky mess but Miyuki doesn't seem to mind. They're both pretty gross at this point anyway.

The minutes tick by and at some point Miyuki's tail comes to drape over Eijun's leg, tickling faintly. He reaches down to play with it, watching it twitch away at the lightest of touches, and repeats the move until Miyuki grabs him by the wrist. "Brat," he huffs into Eijun's hair.

He brings Miyuki's hand up to inspect his nails. They're uniformly filed down, but a thicker than normal and more rounded on top. Miyuki's fingers squeeze around him and release, then repeat. Squeeze and release. He's also purring again, Eijun can feel the vibration as well as hear it.

"Is there any kind of explanation for all this? Even a crazy one."

"I really don't have the slightest clue," Miyuki says. He still sounds relaxed, so Eijun takes unusual care in feeling his way around the subject.

"I heard some other guys saying… uh…" Eijun can't believe after everything they just did he can still blush. "That there's a manga… where this stuff goes away after having sex."

Miyuki snorts. "Well, that clearly isn't the case here."

Eijun wants to hide. He settles for burying his face in the pillow. "Erm… maybe… we need to go further? Not that I've been thinking about this or anything!"

"Oh? Too bad." The humor slinks back into Miyuki's tone, along with a definite leer. "Because I've been thinking about it a lot."

What? Since when?! Aloud, Eijun mutters, "No wonder you had your kinks all prepared, you pervert."

"But seriously, I doubt fucking is the magical solution. On the other hand, I'm the guy who woke up one day with car ears for no reason, so what the hell do I know."

Propping his chin on Miyuki's shoulder, Eijun contemplates said ears. Tentatively, he asks, "…What if they don't go away…?"

To his surprise, Miyuki has a ready answer. "I can always get them and the tail surgically removed. Assuming they don't grow back overnight, in which case I'm screwed."

There would still be the claws to mind, and the tongue (no blowjobs ever, Eijun's brain supplies most unhelpfully), not to mention the various quirky cat habits, but removing the obvious ears and the tail would solve everything that needs to be solved. Eijun is slightly stunned by the simplicity of the answer.

He can hear the smirk in Miyuki's voice. "What, did you think I spent all this time moping with no plan at all? You really have no respect for me."

"I can't believe I never thought of that!" He fixes a glare on Miyuki. "And you could have said something!"

"Surgery's expensive, you idiot. It's not something I can go out and get done right away. So for now, things are still a little…"

In other words, as far as Seidou is concerned they aren't in the clear.

Eijun settles grumpily against Miyuki's side. "That fatass baldy principal. Wait!" He sits upright. "What if he pays for the surgery? You're a vital member of the team, we have no hope of getting to Koshien without you. It's like an investment… or maybe we could blackmail him…"

Miyuki stares at him in part wonder, part amusement. "Where on earth did this evil streak come from?"

"That's all on you. One hundred percent. You're a terrible influence."

"Am I?" He raises an eyebrow and shows a peek of a grin, then shrugs. "Well, we'll think of something." Free from Eijun's clinging, he slides out of bed and pads across the room to grab a pair of pants and a t-shirt, which he tosses Eijun's way. "You can use these for now. Good thing we're close to the same size."

"Uh, thanks?" True, his clothes are still wet and cold in a pile on the floor, but he would be content using Miyuki's body for warmth until they dried.

Miyuki sends him an expectant look. "Don't you want to clean up before the team returns?"

Oh! Eijun scrambles to dress himself, almost tripping in the process.

♦

The rain has stopped and the clouds have dispersed when they set foot outside, making their way to the bath. Sunlight sparkles on the water dripping from the overhang and Eijun wonders aloud, "How do you think the game's going?"

"Well, if you'd gone…"

"Don't even start that with me."

Miyuki mutters something to the effect of, "No respect. None at all." Pushing out a sigh he answers more truthfully, "It might be a close one. Naturally, the team's not one hundred percent without its full roster, but everyone will do their best. They'll pull through." He shoots a glance towards Eijun. "You've still been practicing, right?"

"Of course I have!"

"Good, because Coach is definitely going to work your ass off when you rejoin the team tomorrow."

"I'd expect nothing less from Boss!"

When they reach the changing room and undress there's a sorta-maybe awkward silence, at least on Eijun's part, because what's the etiquette here? Is it going to be like bathing with any of the other guys, totally normal, or is it different now? Would it be weird to stare? But Miyuki was staring at him last time and that was before he saw Eijun come all over himself. Wait, Miyuki also said he'd been thinking about sex stuff a lot.

Eijun blurts out, "Were you thinking dirty thoughts last time we were here?"

Miyuki does a double take with one hand on the sliding door. Then, with a hitch of his lips he replies, "What, and you weren't?"

Oh. Well. Mystery solved. "Just… wanted to be clear."

The smirk isn't lessening. Not a bit. "In the interest of full disclosure I could tell you all about them. In detail."

"Aren't we supposed to be cleaning up before the team comes back?!" It's basically a public bath. A guy uses it for private time at his own risk.

Miyuki's laughter immediately fills the room once the door opens. "Yes, yes, let's get to it then."

Since staring seems to be okay Eijun takes the liberty to sneak peeks without feeling guilty. He didn't exactly have the chance to leisurely enjoy the view earlier, and the view is worth lingering on. Miyuki's body has a sturdy balance from the considerable power in his shoulders to the solid core of his waist and hips where he gets his batting torque. Muscle definition is light—more of a byproduct than the point as he's not vain about his appearance—but his thighs are thickly packed from all the squatting he does behind the plate. He doesn't have the lean tone of a runner's legs, but Eijun's seen him get on base enough times to know he's not lacking in speed.

Back when Eijun was on his baseball studying blitz he learned what a rare breed Miyuki is being a catcher who excels in both defense and offense. His strategic plays and clutch hitting are no joke.

Damnit, he's so perfect it's annoying.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Miyuki asks. "It's such a rare sight." His ears fold partway down like they're trying to get away from the spray of the showerhead.

There's no way Eijun's telling him the truth (I was admiring you), so he improvises. "Can you actually, uh, hear with those?"

The ears twitch rapidly to shake off water when the rinsing is done. "Yeah, you wouldn't believe the shit some of the first years talk about when they're slacking off."

Eijun colors because he knows very well what the less motivated first years tend to talk about.

"They're more trouble than they're worth, though," Miyuki continues, ears veering slightly back. "Everything's weird and muffled when I stick them under something so I couldn't focus as much as usual during practice."

"Really?" Eijun thinks back. "I never noticed anything different!"

"Obviously, you weren't supposed to."

"Still…" He frowns; shouldn't he be more aware of the condition of his teammates? Especially when it's Miyuki.

"Hey now, worry about yourself! You're not at a level yet where you can afford to look after others."

It's habit to shoot back, "Don't tell me what to do!" Making up his mind, and out to prove something, Eijun grabs a washcloth and drags his stool over to plop down behind Miyuki. "I'm going to wash your back, you jerk."

Miyuki's frame shakes with unrestrained amusement. "Knock yourself out."

Eijun spreads his hands over the expanse of skin before him, warm and smooth. He leans in quick and surreptitious to plant a tiny kiss in the shallow valley between Miyuki's shoulder blades, half-expecting laughter, and somehow more embarrassed when none comes. Clearing his throat, he lathers the washcloth and swipes it across Miyuki's back.

He works in silence until reaching the dip above Miyuki's tail. As soon as the washcloth passes over that spot Miyuki's entire back arches and a muffled sound gets trapped behind his lips. Eijun pauses, begins to grin widely, and goes for that area again.

"Fuck," Miyuki bites out, body drawing tense. "Oi, Sawamura, if you're going to start that you better be prepared to finish it."

Eijun's face falls, torn. "Everyone—"

Miyuki shakes his head. "The game was on hold for a while, and they're definitely going to play all nine innings. Maybe more. There's time if you hurry up and touch me now."

"Now who's impatient and demanding?" But Eijun doesn't need to be told twice. He ditches the washcloth to eagerly run his fingers over the slippery patch of skin and Miyuki's tail lashes, wet fur smacking against Eijun's thigh. Another pass over the good spot and he has to keep a careful hold on the tail so it doesn't thwack him in the face. The bony length of it twitches in sharp little jerks as he rubs circles above the base, and Miyuki shudders all over when Eijun drags the tips of his short-nailed fingers across.

A heady burn ignites in his core and fills him up until he's lightheaded, marveling at how easily Miyuki is coming undone from his touch. It doesn't seem real. Any minute now he'll wake up and they'll be back to the status quo where Miyuki holds all the cards and Eijun blunders around blindly, making a fool of himself.

He waits for the illusion to shatter, but nothing changes. The steam of the bath remains thick in the air, the dual sounds of dripping water and harsh breathing pervade the room, and there's warm, shifting skin at the mercy of his fingers.

The muscles in Miyuki's arms bunch as he tightly grips the sides of the stool. His head is thrown back. Eijun scoots forward with a sudden need to put his mouth on the curve of a shoulder which brings the reflection of the mirror into stark view, and most noticeably the hard cock on display between Miyuki's spread legs.

Eijun forgets to breathe. He forgets to move, too, so Miyuki reaches to grab his wrist and pull it around, wrapping Eijun's fingers around his dick. Then it's simply automatic to grasp and pull. Soap slicks the way, and the sounds of wet, sliding flesh are obscenely loud and amplified in the room.

The motions of his hand are well-ingrained (as they would be in any healthy teenage boy) but an element of otherness draws more attention to the act. There's the unfamiliar angle of his arm stretching around another body for starters, but most especially the slight differences in shape and reaction under his exploratory touch. Miyuki is somewhat thicker in the circle of Eijun's fist but they're about the same length. The ridge is a little less prominent and not so sensitive—but the big vein along the underside is. Eijun traces it down and dips to cup the weight of his balls, velvet-soft, and cradles them while embracing Miyuki fully to get both hands on his cock.

He crowds close to Miyuki's back and it's still not close enough, even when Miyuki melts into him like he's all liquid inside his skin, throat humming with a purr. He's relaxed and open and unguarded in a way that Eijun's never even dreamed of seeing. He's like this in Eijun's arms, feeling and trusting, hips rolling gently in a perfect match to Eijun's strokes.

"You look…" Eijun's mouth has a tendency to get away from him before he has any idea of what he's going to say, and when he meets Miyuki's gaze in the mirror the words evaporate off his tongue. Miyuki's been watching the whole time with slit eyes and a loose, lazy smile, but Eijun's slip whets an edge to it.

"What is it? Tell me."

Eijun's heart pounds as he lets his gaze travel lower, down the flat lines of chest and sketched abs and the dusting of hair extending from navel to the coarser curls around Miyuki's cock. The dark flush of it against the tan of Eijun's hands. The pearly liquid smeared at the tip. Emphatic and bordering on reverent Eijun says, "Amazing. You look really amazing."

"Yeah?" Miyuki turns his head to brush his lips over whatever part of Eijun's face he can reach—chin, jaw, the corner of his mouth. "I'm feeling pretty good, too." His voice husks when he adds, "You wanted to see me come, right? You perv. ♥"

"I don't want to hear that from you!" But he aches at the thought of it, hard and pressed tight against Miyuki's back, knees squeezing Miyuki's sides.

"What else do you want to see? Or do. Tell me."

Eijun groans. "I don't—I don't know." He clearly hasn't thought about this as much as Miyuki has (and really, that should prove which one of them's the pervert here).

Miyuki thrusts his hips up roughly, demanding. "Then just talk to me, Sawamura. Let me hear you."

"Pushy bastard," Eijun snaps, and feels the vibration of Miyuki's amusement. He's thrown out of his rhythm and tries to find it again. "Why do you want to hear so bad, huh? You're usually telling me I'm too noisy."

"Mm. That's when you're being a dumbass, which is often."

Eijun growls and bites at Miyuki's neck, right where the sun-gold skin turns lighter. He sucks a bruise to the surface that will just barely peek out above the collar of his uniform.

"Ah, that's right," Miyuki says, almost to himself. "You have a possessive streak, don't you?" He sounds thoughtful about the fact.

"If you're not careful," Eijun warns, "I'll write my name on you, too."

Miyuki laughs, and there's a veiled nuance in his voice that's more considering than flirtatious when he says, "You want me that much, huh?"

"Obviously!" Eijun rests his chin on Miyuki's shoulder and scowls at their increasingly ridiculous reflection. His hands are still on Miyuki, who hasn't gone soft but has definitely backed off from the ledge. Eijun would be half crazy in his place. "I want you," he says plainly because there's no other way for him to tell it. "You're a sneaky, manipulative asshole, and I can't tell what you're thinking half the time, but I know I want you. You said we're partners. Maybe you only meant that once, but I… I kinda never let that go."

"Hmm. You threw me over for Chris-senpai pretty fast, though."

"Chris-senpai is the person I look up to most. You're the same, right?" There's no room for Miyuki to argue. The memory of his anger that one time on Chris's behalf is unlikely to ever be forgotten.

"But that just makes you wishy-washy."

"No!" He's not sure when he ended up on shaky ground or why he's being cornered like this, but he shows his teeth and glares. If they were clothed he'd be grabbing Miyuki by the shirt. As a substitute he thumps his fist on Miyuki's shoulder. "Listen to me, will you? You're the one I—I don't want anyone else the way I want you! It doesn't matter how many other batteries I form. We're not on the field right now, are we? You're not like this with Furuya or Kawakami-senpai, right? When I say I want to be partners I mean not just catcher and pitcher. And not just senpai and kouhai, either. Can't I just be with you? Like we are now?"

A faint but discernible line creases Miyuki's brow. "What, like as a sex thing?"

At this point Eijun can only stare. "…Am I actually hearing this right now? Am I, for once, the smart one? Miyuki Kazuya, you may be a genius, but you can really be dumb."

"Then what do you mean?" The uncharacteristic scowl on Miyuki's face might be hilarious if Eijun wasn't so disheartened by the entire conversation.

"I can't believe you're making me say it," he mutters, hunching down press his forehead to Miyuki's shoulder. "I love you, you jackass. What 'sex thing'? Is that all you think I want? Is that all you want?!"

"…No," Miyuki says, but apparently he had to think about it for a second. "So what do you want? From me I mean."

Eijun kind of wants to strangle him, that's what he wants, but he valiantly resists the urge. "I don't know! Nothing you don't want to give, I guess. I just… want this. You. You being an idiot even though it's annoying. You being a teasing bastard. …You when you're not hiding things, and being strong in front of others and making everyone go along with you because you're the great Miyuki Kazuya." He locks his arms firmly around Miyuki's torso, holding him. "You can't be like that all the time. Alone like that. Maybe I can't do much but I can promise I won't leave you alone, because you shouldn't be. Partners, remember? That's what I want. That's how I want you."

By the time he's finished talking Eijun finds, to his consternation, that he's blinking back tears. Damnit. Part of him wants to pull away out of embarrassment, but he can't bring himself to let go. In this way, at least, it's easy to hold the two of them together. It's the simplest thing. But Miyuki isn't a simple person, he's the most complex guy Eijun has ever met and who knows what's going through his head right now. All Eijun can do is wait to find out.

Soon enough, the pattern of Miyuki's breathing deepens with a sigh. "You never go halfway, do you? It's always all or nothing."

"Not nothing," Eijun says, arms squeezing tighter. His heart kicks in his chest. Nothing is not acceptable, not even applicable when he's so full of want.

"Greedy."

"So what if I am?!"

Finally, a laugh. It's such a frequent sound—Miyuki is forever finding some reason to laugh at him, and at the time it's always an aggravation Eijun can do without, but then its absence will make him anxious to hear it again.

Miyuki might be turning him into some kind of masochist.

"It's fine," Miyuki says, and Eijun doesn't have to look up to know he's smiling. "That unstoppable confidence is what I like about you. Besides, I'm used to your selfishness."

"That last part was totally unnecessary."

"Sorry. Your word vomit must be catching."

"Oi!" Eijun pulls back at the same time Miyuki turns around, as if they'd planned it, only Eijun isn't prepared to be reeled in and practically smashes face-first into Miyuki's chest. There's suddenly a heartbeat against his ear, thumping away loud enough to distract him from Miyuki saying, "Okay."

"Huh?" Eijun tilts his face up. Miyuki's arms drape around him with a hand shifting through his hair and another skimming over his shoulder blade.

"Okay," Miyuki says again. "It's not… nothing for me, either. I want you too. It's unreasonable, really, how I can't leave a pain in the ass like you alone."

"Sorry for being such a pain," Eijun says sourly, and gets his hair tugged lightly as if demanding, pay attention!

"But it's fine," Miyuki continues, hand gentling to cradle the back of Eijun's head and heart marching several steps quicker than the cautious pace of his words. "It's all fine. So I guess I'm saying… have it your way, partner."

Hearing Miyuki call him that hits Eijun like a bolt, just as it had the first time. His skin tingles and something inside him stirs, yearns, and reaches for what's being offered. "R-really?"

"At the risk of a lifetime of regret, yes, real—"

Eijun isn't the type to wait for people to finish. He surges up—nearly toppling both of them in the process—to throw his arms around Miyuki's neck and claim his mouth in a kiss. It's sloppy and unromantic and probably ranks a zero on the scale that rates kisses, but that doesn't seem to matter as Miyuki hauls him close until Eijun is sitting sideways in his lap, and roughs Eijun's lips over with a scratchy tongue. Eijun doesn't hesitate to run his hands up into Miyuki's hair, petting over the pointed flaps of his cat ears (no longer weird or out of place, just a part of Miyuki now). He scritches his fingers at the base of them and Miyuki butts up into his hands. One look at Eijun's face and a knowing little quirk appears on his lips.

"You've wanted to do that since the beginning, haven't you?"

"Well…"

"I'm sure you're not the only one."

"But I'm the only one that gets to," he shoots back hotly.

Miyuki's grin broadens. "Yeah, I think I can give you that." He cups Eijun's face in one hand and brings them cheek to cheek, murmuring next to Eijun's ear, "I think I can give you a lot of things."

Eijun goes warm all over, so much that the heat of his face must be seeping into Miyuki's skin. Saying that sort of line just isn't fair. "Playing dirty like always."

Miyuki concedes with a hum and the tip of his tongue tracing the outside of Eijun's ear, cheater that he is. "Should I make it up to you?"

The suggestion ignites a whole storm of possibilities that race through his blood and pool low in his core. Eijun makes a small sound of want, but he shakes his head and manages to say, "I have unfinished business with you first." He pulls away—not far, just enough to be able to draw his leg up, and up some more under Miyuki's appreciating gaze, and then swing it down on the other side of Miyuki's lap so Eijun is straddling him.

"Well then," Miyuki says, his eyes gone molten bright and his hands smoothing along the outside of Eijun's thighs. "Do what you want with me."

Eijun's hands come to rest on Miyuki's shoulders, and it's much more comfortable now to lean in and kiss. Miyuki doesn't remain compliant; his mouth says one thing and then he's teasing with it, denting the flesh of Eijun's lip with his teeth and being coy with his rasping tongue.

But that's fine, Eijun lets him have his mouth while his hands take the scenic route down the length of Miyuki's body. He thumbs over raised nipples and rubs them into tight points with revenge on his mind, not letting up until Miyuki bites a little harder and murmurs, "Okay, okay, lesson learned."

A triumphant little thrill zings through him and Eijun smiles against the mouth that follows up with, "Brat," before it opens wet and intent, sucking him in. He's less focused as he flattens his palms over solid muscle and slides them down, down, until he finally reaches the thick cock jutting up between Miyuki's thighs.

Eijun trades a happy sigh for Miyuki's soft groan as he gets reacquainted. The angle from the front is a little easier to work with and he drags his thumb up and down the veined underside with a relish that borders on evil (he's learned from the best after all). This close, he can see the way Miyuki's lashes flutter when Eijun fists him and strokes in earnest.

"Don't look so smug," Miyuki says, watching from beneath his half-lidded eyes.

"I have every reason to be smug." Case in point: he can feel the flex of Miyuki's thighs under him, but with Eijun planted squarely on his lap his movement is limited. The view isn't as mind-blowing this way but being within kissing distance makes up for it.

"Oh, yeah?" Eijun can taste the challenge on Miyuki's lips, which is all the warning he gets before Miyuki grabs him by the hips and drags him forward, closing that last bit of space between them to trap the heat of both their dicks against Eijun's hand and wrist. "How about now?"

There's nothing to stop Eijun from thrusting against Miyuki. He maneuvers his hand to accommodate both of them and that's definitely a new kind of handful—can't get as good of a stroke but the pressure is good all on its own, and the sensation of Miyuki sliding against him sparks a hungry fire inside Eijun. He squirms and ruts in place, gasping, "Still pretty smug, actually."

"Fair enough." Miyuki wears his self-deprecating grin, the one he shows when something hasn't gone according to plan. It's one of his more dangerous expressions because it's almost always followed by determination lighting up his eyes. This time it's accompanied by him spreading his knees, causing Eijun to loop his free arm around Miyuki's neck in order to maintain his balance. He still sinks a little, which has the double effect of lining up their cocks better and allowing Miyuki to grip and squeeze his ass. "Say, Sawamura…"

"What?" The tug of apprehension in his gut is from a culmination of experience. On the other hand, it's nearly swallowed up by the tidal waves of desire rocking him into Miyuki.

"Do you trust me?"

The apprehension takes a firm hold. Eijun huffs, but doesn't stop moving. "That sounds suspicious as hell," he says, "but at the risk of a lifetime of regret—"

"Oi, don't steal my lines."

Ears burning, he buries his face in Miyuki's neck so the words are muffled. "…You know I do, stupid."

The breath Miyuki lets out feathers through Eijun's hair. "Okay. I'm going to try something."

Get on with it, is what Eijun wants to say, but then Miyuki's fingers are slipping between his cheeks to brush lightly over his hole and Eijun's thought process collapses in a tumble of, oh. That. Oh. He thought his face was warm before but now he's feverish, light-headed, and trembling as the tip of Miyuki's finger rubs over him. Wet and a little slippery. Circling the outside in the tiniest of motions.

"Just—go ahead," Eijun blusters in case Miyuki is waiting for permission. His arm tightens around Miyuki's neck and his legs are tense where they're stretched over Miyuki's thighs. He's… heard things in the manner of locker room talk, but that's the extent of it. He's never thought about the subject more than that. And his imagination crumbles in the face of reality, at the back and forth slide not yet pushing to enter.

"Relax," Miyuki says, his other hand kneading the flesh of Eijun's ass. He pulls Eijun up against his body which rubs their cocks together, and Eijun remembers to close his hand around them and ride the motion. His hips press into Miyuki in slow, shallow thrusts, conscious of the light pressure from behind.

The pressure increases until the tip of Miyuki's index finger is inside and Eijun stills, tightening around the foreign invasion despite himself. He breathes deeply. Relax, relax, relax…

All the while Miyuki is murmuring to him, "Easy, it's fine, slowly…"

Eijun can't help but remark, "It weirds me out when you're kind." It's a little embarrassing and also—maybe—a little nice. But mostly weird.

Miyuki pinches him, which is closer to normal. "How am I supposed to be when I'm fingering your virgin ass?"

"More like tha—ah!" Miyuki slides a little further in. Eijun squeezes around him, briefly this time, and it's strange and not what he'd call comfortable but his head is so full of Miyuki, Miyuki inside him and Miyuki doing this to him, that he's probably just drunk on him. It's not the worst state to be in. He slumps into the body holding him up and moves his hand in unhurried strokes, lingering on steady build of pleasure there.

The finger inside him continues to push until it's buried, which gives Eijun a vague sense of accomplishment if nothing else. He's acutely aware of the presence and pressure, neither bad nor good, and then the rather mortifying way he grips as the finger withdraws, slowly, before tunneling back in.

It's weird. Weird and kind of mind-blowingly intimate, the sink and drag of it, and the way Eijun's body gradually accommodates the intrusion. The slide gets a little easier, still going at a measured pace. In and out. Eijun's hand mimics Miyuki's rhythm, following his lead here as well.

"Okay?" Miyuki asks. His voice is lower than Eijun's used to hearing, and there's something familiar but not quite Miyuki-like about it. Eijun closes his eyes and lets his mind drift. He hears the hollow metal ping of a bat connecting solidly with a ball, powerful and concentrated. That's it; that focus. Miyuki is focusing on him like there's absolutely nothing else in the world.

Heat unfurls in Eijun's belly. "Yes, okay." He puts his mouth to Miyuki's neck, licks the moisture there and kisses the skin. "Definitely okay." And then, because he's Sawamura Eijun and he always charges straight ahead: "More."

And because Miyuki must always be Miyuki: "More what?"

Like hell he's going to beg. "More," he demands, grazing his teeth over Miyuki's neck and tightening his hand around Miyuki's cock.

There's a wet smack on his ass that makes Eijun yelp, more from shock than pain. The finger inside him pulls out and Eijun glowers, but Miyuki only says, "Calm down, I'll give you more. Impatient, greedy, egocentric…"

"I thought you said you liked that about me."

"I said I'm used to it. Hold still."

There's blunt pressure again at his entrance as Miyuki works two fingers into him. They're slick enough and he's accepting enough to let them slide in without too much effort, but the stretch makes him inhale more sharply than he intends. Immediately Miyuki halts.

"Don't—" Eijun shifts, freezes, and stubbornly mutters, "Just give me a minute."

Miyuki doesn't say anything, which is good because Eijun doesn't want to be coddled. He just wants to get used to the feeling quickly. He wants to move and not stay here in this nebulous range of is it good or is it bad? It aches a little, only enough to make him aware. Make him think of the size and shape and length of Miyuki's fingers, which he's never paid any notice to before. They feel bigger than they probably are like this, stretching him open, not even halfway in he doesn't think. They're tough-skinned from years of handling baseballs and swinging bats, but he can't really feel that detail from inside. There's just the thickness of them, an unyielding presence that he maybe wants, maybe doesn't, but he's going to have to decide soon because doing things halfway isn't Eijun's style.

He clenches and unclenches around them experimentally. The tiniest pull and push. He steadies himself and tries moving again, pressing back onto Miyuki's hand, and gets them in a little deeper. "More," he breathes out, world narrowing down to that single point. "More." Just do it, just get inside already, I can take it, c'mon…

Miyuki pushes and this time it's a slow, relentless slide all the way in that squeezes the air out of Eijun's lungs. He gasps, tenses, and the fullness is all he can think about. It's not that much, he tries to tell himself. It's not like it's his… but that's as far as he can take the thought. Even so, he forces himself to say, "More."

A quiet huff of breath warms over the skin of Eijun's neck. "Don't get ahead of yourself, you headstrong idiot." Miyuki moves his fingers—but he doesn't pull them out. They flex deep inside him, twisting and prodding. Careful, searching movements.

It's… strange, still. But Eijun's beginning to think it's a little bit good, too. Having Miyuki inside him and knowing him this intimately puts a flare of heat in his belly. He lets out a soft groan, relaxing in increments as Miyuki's fingers explore. A press here and a curl there, it occurs to Eijun that Miyuki is probably the obsessive type that needs to know everything about whatever catches his interest. Eijun is in for a very thorough relationship. He supposes he's okay with that.

The peaceful interlude is broken when Miyuki's fingertips stroke from within and a brush against just the right spot. Eijun is blindsided, it's like shooting from zero to sixty in a fraction of a second. A startled cry is yanked from his throat and he clutches at Miyuki, toes curling, blood rushing down to his aching cock and leaving him dizzy in its wake. "Wh-wha…?"

Miyuki's chuckle is thick with satisfaction. "That good, huh?"

"Shut up," Eijun says out of reflex. He can't summon up any real annoyance when he's still twitching with aftershocks and squirming for another go. He grinds his hips forward into Miyuki, rubbing against his belly and his cock. "Do it again."

"You could ask nicely just once." Miyuki pumps his fingers in and out, less gently than before, sinking them in deep but not where Eijun most wants them even though the push and pull itself is kind of pleasurable now. Each drag makes him want more.

His stubborn pride wars with his increasingly desperate arousal. He squeezes his cock alongside Miyuki's and he's leaking over his hand (maybe Miyuki is too, it's impossible to tell when they're both this wet). "Why is this such a thing for you?" he grumbles in a bid for distraction.

"Well…" A scratchy tongue laps at his neck, followed by teeth and heat and dampness. Miyuki sucks his skin hard and releases with a roughed-over murmur, "I can be greedy too, you know."

Eijun moans; it's both from the less-than-controlled edge in Miyuki's voice as well as the knowledge that he's lost. His resistance melts away at that honest admission. "Please," he says, and it's instantly worth it for the helpless way Miyuki's hold on him tightens and jerks him close. Maybe Eijun isn't losing after all. "Please," he repeats, delighting in the echo of Miyuki's full-body shudder that travels through everywhere they touch. He draws a leg up, trusting his precarious balance to Miyuki, and bends it around the other boy's waist to press his heel into that spot low on Miyuki's back.

The result is spectacular when Miyuki lets his voice out, sounding wrecked, and his fingers fuck into Eijun with single-minded intent. Eijun rises and falls in Miyuki's lap, weight lowering onto the hard thrusts of his fingers and gripping around them each time they drag partway out. The ache is a welcome burn now, ready and waiting to spark. He wants that blissed-out feeling again, wants it more than anything, just one more time, he wants Miyuki to take him completely apart.

And Miyuki delivers, he finds that spot again that wracks Eijun with so much intensity he nearly sobs. It's not a tease but a full-on assault that leaves him incapable of doing anything except hanging on while Miyuki works him over, and he comes in no time with a hoarse shout, spurting over both their stomachs.

There's no haze settling over him afterward—rather the opposite, his nerves still alive and flickering with every minute shift. Miyuki's fingers inside him are almost unbearable, and when they pull out with a wet sound Eijun's moan veers on the side of pained. He's overly warm, his sweat and the damp air of the bath sticking to his skin. There's harsh breathing in his ear, not his own but Miyuki's, and Miyuki's body is tense and hard. He pulls Eijun against him in needy, desperate jerks that make Eijun gasp with each jolt to his soft, sensitive flesh, but he clings to Miyuki anyway because he wants to feel him.

Eijun wants to feel everything—the hard, hot press of Miyuki's cock sliding between them, the pulse of blood running through it, the filthy mess of Eijun's release making everything that much slicker and more obscene. The precise moment when Miyuki tightens up, his blunt nails digging imprints in Eijun's hip and ass while his normally composed voice breaks around the syllables of Eijun's name. The spill of him spattering on skin as his body shakes under Eijun.

For a while the two of them can only sit together, breathing in tandem like they've become biologically linked. Eijun, slumped over Miyuki, can almost feel the double beat of their hearts as one. Partners, he thinks with heavy satisfaction, delayed lethargy finally seeping into his bones.

Of course it's Miyuki who breaks the tenuous connection with a breathless chuckle. "That was something."

Eijun makes an incoherent noise of agreement.

"Down for the count again? You're a study in extremes, Sawamura." A hand rubs up and down Eijun's back and if he had the means to do it he'd be purring. He settles for burrowing into the crook of Miyuki's shoulder and neck instead. "But…" Eijun makes a preemptive noise of protest, which Miyuki ignores. "This isn't the time or place to be dozing."

"…I don't think I can move."

Miyuki snorts. "Well, you'd better or I'll dump your ass on the floor."

Coming from Miyuki it's a valid threat. Eijun grumbles and tries to sit up for starters, since figuring out if his legs still work will take him a moment. "That's unfair considering what my ass just went through." A twinge of soreness makes itself known, although Eijun can't say he regrets it in the least.

Lips touch brief and sweet over the rise of his cheek, softening the practical words that follow. "Come on, the others will be back soon, and we have to clean up again."

Eijun groans at the unwanted logic, but the thought of everyone walking in on them is enough to get him moving. His legs wobble at bit at first, but he manages to stand. Looking down at himself he has to admit that he's impressively painted. "Wow. You came a lot."

"At least half of that is yours." Miyuki is no different before he turns on the water to rinse the evidence off. "Does it always hit you that hard?"

"No, not usually." Eijun answers honestly before he can think better of it, but he knows he's an idiot as soon as he sees Miyuki's sharp white grin.

"Ah, so it's because of me."

"No way!"

"It's totally because of me."

"It really isn't! Who's the egocentric one now?"

"Still you more than me."

"You—Miyuki Kazuya!" He usually wields the full name like an insult, but it doesn't have the same ring to it anymore. The frustration is still there, loud and clear as ever, but there's more in addition. An undertone of reluctant fondness, maybe. A note of possession over the unique way only he can address this person.

Miyuki laughs carelessly like he always does but somehow it sounds new. A change in timbre—or a change of heart. Partners should be on the same page after all.

♦

Sunday arrives and Eijun's suspension is lifted, allowing him to rejoin practice. He throws himself into it with all his pent-up gusto, receiving a kick from Kuramochi and a chop from Kominato when, as they claim, his enthusiasm reaches the point of distraction for the whole team.

His body is sorer than usual afterwards—he wasn't idle for those three days, but running and stretching and doing drills with the towel aren't the same kind of workout. It's nothing like the near-dead exhaustion of the Training Camp from Hell, but Eijun feels that he has a good enough excuse to escape from his room that evening and thus avoid any impromptu wrestling matches that might ensue there. He also has to dodge a grumpy-looking Kanemaru who's attempting to hunt him down armed with all the homework Eijun's missed.

He has to take the long way around but eventually he makes it to Miyuki's room, declaring "Safe!" as he shuts the door behind him.

Miyuki's ears perk, but he doesn't turn around from where he's hunched comfortably over a desk. "Safe from what?"

"Kuramochi-senpai and Kanemaru." Too late does Eijun consider maybe he should have kept the second part to himself.

"Dodging your make-up work, hmm?" Before Eijun can offer an excuse Miyuki says, "Well, I'm not your taskmaster so I won't kick you out. But if Kanemaru comes here looking for you I won't help."

That's a risk Eijun's willing to take, and in the absence of roommates he doesn't have any qualms bounding over to the desk and draping himself obnoxiously over Miyuki's shoulders. When he rubs his cheek against Miyuki's hair he gets a bunt in return, and scratches his fingers at the base of Miyuki's ears while lowering his eyes to the sheet on the desk. "Is that from yesterday?"

The scorecard is marked in Chris's neat, recognizable shorthand. It was a close game as predicted with Seidou just managing to score one more run at the bottom of the eleventh inning.

"Bet it would've been over a lot quicker with us there…"

"The first-year relief pitcher sure does think highly of himself." Miyuki lifts a hand and flicks the center of Eijun's forehead.

"Ow!"

"Don't waste time on imagining things differently. That game's over. You guys have to prepare for the next one." Something thuds dull and heavy inside Eijun's chest for a single beat before it's overlapped by Miyuki continuing, "Furuya's going to be exhausted; despite a rocky start he pitched long and well, and he was pretty strong at bat, too. You've got a lot of work ahead of you just to keep up, Mr. #20."

The pinpoint jab makes Eijun snap his teeth. "I know that! And I'll definitely prove I have what it takes on the mound!"

Miyuki winces and leans away from where Eijun had been shouting next to his ear. "Yes, yes, if spirit was the only thing that mattered you'd be the ace in no time."

"I've been practicing a lot! Chris-senpai said my form was looking good today."

"That's just the basics, isn't it?"

"I pitched really well today, too!"

"Most weren't even in the zone."

"YOU WEREN'T THERE HOW WOULD YOU KNOW."

Miyuki smirks as he half turns in his chair, slinging one arm over the back. "Because I know you, Sawamura." His hand closes over the nape of Eijun's neck and pulls him in.

The stubborn line of Eijun's mouth holds firm for all of two seconds before opening to Miyuki's coaxing with a disgruntled sigh. He's self-aware enough to know he gets easily distracted; he goes for the bait every time and he chases whatever gets dragged before his eyes. His memory under normal circumstances isn't too great, but his body memory is another matter. He remembers well the kick of his heart at the thought of Miyuki not being part of his next game. He remembers it later when Kanemaru shows up and tries to physically assault Eijun with his English textbook while Miyuki laughs, and he remembers as he drags his feet out the door, stopping at the last moment to call out:

"Senpai, will you catch for me tomorrow?" Technically it would be the last day of Miyuki's suspension, and he isn't allowed to use the club's practice grounds but really, who's going to bother to enforce that? Worst case, any open space will do. Like Eijun said all those months ago (a lifetime ago it seems), you don't need anything fancy in order to play baseball.

Miyuki rolls his eyes. "It was only a matter of time before you asked, huh? Sure, you won't leave me alone until I agree anyway. Now get going before Kanemaru has an aneurysm."

He could be lying. While Miyuki tends to prefer simply withholding certain truths by way of distraction or avoidance he does lie outright whenever it suits him. Eijun bellows loud enough to be heard throughout the dorm with everyone as his witness, "I'll hold you to that!" as he's hauled away.

♦

Monday morning sees Eijun zombie-walking to the dining hall and getting his breakfast after a late night studying of all the unnatural things. Kanemaru hadn't left until even Kuramochi and Masuko had had enough and forced him out. At first Eijun had wept in gratitude but that quickly dried up as Kuramochi put him in a cloverleaf hold, growling, "This wouldn't happen if you weren't an idiot in the first place!"

He can't remember a single thing that was drilled into him last night so he's not sure why Kanemaru even bothered.

Eijun hardly marks any of the movement or conversation happening around him with most of his focus going into not dropping face-first into his miso soup. He's dimly aware of Haruichi taking a seat by his side and manages to croak out something of a greeting in response to his friend's, "Good morning, Eijun-kun." Furuya shows up and sets his tray down opposite of Haruichi, leaving the space in front of Eijun open. The spot is soon taken by Kuramochi, looking almost as tired as his roommate, with Masuko and Haruichi's brother filling the rest of the table. At some point, with barbed prodding from the senpai, Eijun remembers to actually eat.

A sudden, leaning weight from behind makes Eijun smush his nose into the bowl of rice he's holding up. He flails and food scatters.

"Geez, Sawamura," Miyuki laughs. "Your table manners could use work."

"Like you had nothing to do with it!"

"O-oi," says Kuramochi, blinking his sleep-deprived eyes.

Miyuki reaches over Eijun to steal a piece of grilled fish with his fingers.

"Go get your own food! Your manners suck, too!" He jostles his shoulder in an effort to dislodge his hanger-on. It's too early for this.

"Don't be stingy," Miyuki says, and licks the grains of rice off the tip of Eijun's nose in a smooth, wet glide.

Eijun's hand is in Miyuki's face, skewing his glasses, and he's shouting, "You bastard, we're in public!" when the realization catches up to him. His fingers fly to his nose and his stunned gaze rises to land upon the top of Miyuki's tousled head where there are no cat ears in sight.

Flashing a cheeky grin and a v-sign Miyuki announces, "Complete recovery!" As if he'd been out sick with the flu for a week. "Coach just finished talking with the principal and they came to a completely mutual, not at all by-way-of-intimidation agreement that there's no reason I can't rejoin practice today."

"That's excellent news," says Kominato, smiling like he actually means it. "We were all beginning to tire of sharing your babysitting duties."

It takes Eijun a moment to catch the multiple pointed stares in his and Furuya's direction. He slams his chopsticks on the table. "Now wait a minute—!"

Kuramochi's cackle overrides everything else. "I guess this means I can't go through with my plan to get you cat toys for your birthday. Though maybe a collar with a little bell attached would still be suitable, eh, Sawamura?"

Eijun wants nothing to do with this conversation anymore, particularly when Miyuki stares long and hard at Kuramochi before informing him, "I know where you sleep."

"Not even you could get away with murder if there are witnesses."

Miyuki's grin is slow and predatory. "Who says I'll be doing anything to you?"

At first Eijun doesn't get it. Then Kominato chides, "Now, now, Miyuki, there are children at the table."

"Besides the one he's already corrupted," Masuko rumbles, cheeks pink.

Enlightenment dawns, and Eijun fervently invites the floor to swallow him where he sits.

Kuramochi's chair screeches as he rises out of it, slamming both hands on the table to bark, "Oi, Sawamura! New house rule!" He points an accusing finger at Miyuki, who continues to wear his cat-got-the-cream grin. "That guy isn't allowed in after the lights go out. Or at all without a chaperone. Violation of these rules is punishable by gory special. Masuko, back me up here."

"Seconded."

"Why," Eijun wails, "do I have to suffer for whatever this bastard does on his own?"

Everyone looks at him like he's either stupid or worth pitying. "Because you decided to date that," Kuramochi answers, pointing again at Miyuki, who's descended into open bouts of snickering over the consternation he's caused.

"W-well," says Haruichi, the color of his face matching his hair, "as long as Eijun-kun is happy, isn't it fine?"

"No accounting for taste though," the older brother says pleasantly.

"…Which one of them are you referring to?"

"Both."

Eijun shoves his tray aside so he can bury his face in his arms. "Che', you all can die in a fire." He jabs in elbow in what he hopes is Miyuki's direction. "You especially!"

His elbow is blocked, and held just briefly. "Too late," Miyuki says with a kind of relentless good cheer that's been absent the past week. The fact is only noticeable now. "You're stuck with me. No take-backs."

Eijun groans aloud, but then, he figures, there are worse fates.

♦

With no more evidence to support the rumors, life returns to normal.

Or it was supposed to.

Eijun is one of the stragglers to arrive on the field for afternoon practice thanks to his turn at cleaning duty today, but when he gets there no one's warming up yet. Instead, everyone is gathered together by home plate. His first thought is that he's missing some important meeting and hurries to join them, but a recognizable roar makes his feet skid to a halt.

"Who touched me just now?! Wanna die?!!"

The more skittish club members disperse, leaving a loose ring of the regulars standing around a snarling, snapping Isashiki. A pair of brown-furred ears angle back sharply from top of his head, and a bottlebrush tail sticks out from the back of his uniform pants. He's holding a bat in a one-handed grip which he swings in a wide, menacing arc. "What are you all looking at?!"

The onlookers back away some more.

"E-easy there, Jun-san…"

Yuuki is the only one among them made of stern enough stuff to approach and lay a hand on Isashiki's shoulder. "Calm down, Jun. Everything will be fine."

"Really," adds Kominato, "there's no need to make such a fuss." There's more acid in his tone than usual, but that probably has to do with the way Haruichi is lingering close by his side with ears folded down and a soft pink tail curled near his legs. He looks miserable. Eijun starts to move towards his friend but at a certain range his instincts tell him to proceed at his own risk, which may account for the wide berth everyone else is giving the two brothers.

He's about to go for it anyway in the name of friendship when a low whistle sounds near his ear. "Well, well, would you look at that."

"Miyuki Ka—!"

"KORA, MIYUKI!"

"Shit," Miyuki mumbles, but a sheepish grin climbs aboard his face as Isashiki stalks towards him. "Yo~ Jun-san. Aren't you looking—" Even he goes silent when the end of the bat comes to a stop in front of his face.

"This is your fault!"

Miyuki twitches. "Now, that's a bit unfounded, don't you think? I was just victim #1."

"Yeah," Eijun pipes up, quick to come to the defense. "It's not like he knew it would be contagious!"

"Not helping," Miyuki grinds out between his teeth.

The majority of the team suddenly finds someplace else to be on the other side of the field—even the first string is edging carefully away now. Only Yuuki and Haruichi's brother remain where they are, the former stoic as always and the latter somehow giving off an aura more terrifying than Isashiki's boiling rage.

Miyuki holds his hands up. "Okay, look, I'm fine now, see? It'll go away in a week—probably. It's not so bad overall, just don't get your tail caught in any doors and avoid getting water in yours ears."

Isashiki's shaking and seething and growling—actual animal growling—doesn't abate in the slightest.

"Or," Miyuki says with a subtle change in his demeanor that makes Eijun stiffen in alarm, "you could try this other thing. See, there's this manga…"

Isashiki's ears twitch. "Manga?"

"Yeah, listen to this…" He takes hold of Isashiki's arm and steers him off to the side—and he brings Yuuki along, too, to confer quietly.

There's a brief outburst in the middle of it. "Are you fucking serious."

Miyuki shrugs. "That's how it goes. It's only hearsay, though."

Isashiki is still red-faced, but instead of glaring at everyone he's now studiously glaring at nothing at all. "That's ridiculous. How can that—that didn't work for you, did it?" Now he's staring in suspicion at Eijun who's doing his best to remain willfully ignorant.

"I'm just offering options here, as someone who's gone through this affliction before."

"Jun, it might be worth a try. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Are you—how could you—what are you even—"

Miyuki is all smiles when he says, as unobtrusively as possible, "I'll leave you to it, then! Good luck!" And so he successfully makes his escape.

"You're the worst," Eijun says under his breath as they walk away. "And the weird manga thing doesn't even work! What're you going to do when he tries it and nothing happens?"

"I never promised it would work! And let's just hope Tetsu-san is really good. I was going for distraction more than solution anyway."

"The worst," Eijun repeats. "You better not try the same thing with Harucchi."

Miyuki merely looks at him. "No thanks, I prefer to keep all my limbs where they are." He pushes a hand through Eijun's hair in a brief ruffle. "Now let's warm up, we've wasted enough time. I said I'd catch for you today, didn't I?"

The grin bursts wide on his face. "You did, and you're not getting out of it!"

"Just for a bit, though. Don't look at me like that, you know the training arrangement. You're way too greedy."

"I am," Eijun says, too eager to argue. He hops a little in place. "Come on, come on, let's go!"

"Warm up properly first, you…!" Miyuki lurches to the side as Eijun slings an arm around his shoulders.

"Let's go!"

Miyuki laughs quietly against his side, fixing his hat which had gotten (even more) skewed while his other hand sneaks over to touch Eijun's waist. "Geez, what am I going to do with you?"

"Whatever you want to do, I guess." Eijun leans in that much more, drawing the bright glitter of intrigue in Miyuki's eyes. "Lead me, Miyuki."

The sharp curve that fits his mouth best makes an appearance. "Sometimes I wonder who's leading who here."

"But that's not a bad thing, is it?"

"I can get used to it." He squeezes Eijun's waist, then lets go. "All right, let's get moving, partner."

There's a thrill running hot and fierce through his veins that he hopes never goes away whenever he hears that word. That it will always strike him with sparks flying, that weeks and months and years down the road he'll still be tempered by it. If Miyuki is the one with him, though, catching his pitches and giving him grief and making him better than he was yesterday, Eijun is confident that won't change. A lot may change over time, but that won't. Partners from beginning to end.