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Sawamura looks different, asleep.
The lights are off in the school infirmary, but there’s enough moonlight outside the window that Okumura can clearly make out Sawamura’s sleeping form. He watches for a minute, his tight chest loosening incrementally with each of Sawamura’s steady breaths.
He looks peaceful, which Okumura is sure is some kind of sappy cliché. It’s true though, he thinks, stepping closer. It’s odd to see Sawamura without one of his usual expressions: grinning ear to ear, or frowning in concentration, or yelling fierce exhortations at the team. Okumura tries not to think about how defenseless his face looks now.
The important thing, he tells himself, is that Sawamura is fine. He took a scary hit to the head at their game that day, but it turned out to be a mild concussion at most. According to Kominato, who was allowed to go to the hospital with the coaches to pick him up, he should even be able to pitch in their game next week. He’s spending the night in the infirmary just as a precaution.
Okumura takes a deep breath and goes to sit in the plastic chair next to the cot. It looked worse than that, when it happened. Apparently Sawamura didn’t actually lose consciousness; it was just the shock of the impact that made him fall down, but for a second, when Okumura ran onto the field and saw him lying on the ground… He feels a wave of nausea roll over him, and he bites his tongue to hold it back.
Sawamura shifts and sighs in his sleep, then rolls in Okumura’s direction. There’s a red mark high on his right cheek, Okumura notices, almost at his temple. His hand twitches when he sees it, and he almost reaches out. He wants to touch it, to feel for himself what happened.
He exhales slowly and makes himself sit still. He shouldn’t be touching Sawamura in his sleep. Sawamura might not mind, but that’s not enough to quell the guilty feeling in his stomach. He’s thought a lot about touching Sawamura, but he hasn’t dared, not even since they’ve been… well. He swallows. Dating, he guesses is the word for it. He’s not totally sure.
It was a few weeks ago that he confessed his feelings to Sawamura. He didn’t think Sawamura liked him back; he only did it to clear the air, not wanting any secrets to spoil their battery. He was determined to get over his inconvenient crush, and he thought Sawamura laughing his confession off would make it easier.
Sawamura didn’t laugh it off, though. In fact, he took it more seriously than Okumura’s seen him take anything that wasn’t baseball-related. He asked for some time to think about it, and two weeks later he came to Okumura’s room to formally accept. Then he walked over and shook Okumura’s hand, which Okumura didn’t know how to take. It wasn’t exactly romantic.
Sawamura has been acting differently toward him since then, though—sitting next to him whenever he can, smiling at him a lot. A couple of times they’ve held hands when no one else was around. That probably means they’re dating, Okumura thinks.
Anyhow, he doesn’t want to wake Sawamura up. He just wants to watch him a little longer. He matches his breathing to the rise and fall of Sawamura’s chest and lets the warm air of the infirmary seep into his skin. It’s past curfew; he had to sneak out of his room, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until he saw for himself that Sawamura was okay. He’ll sit here until he gets tired, he decides. Then he’ll go back to his room. It’s the last thing he thinks before he closes his eyes.
He wakes up to Sawamura saying his name. He startles and almost falls off the chair.
“Hey,” Sawamura says, and squeezes his knee. “How’d you get in here, huh?”
Okumura looks down at Sawamura’s hand, then drags his gaze back up to Sawamura’s face. His head feels fuzzy. “Uhh—I… the door was unlocked,” he says. “Are you okay?” This last part comes out more like a demand.
Sawamura nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m fine, Koushuu.” Okumura’s heart leaps. That’s another, definitive thing that’s changed—Sawamura calls him by his first name now, when it’s just the two of them.
“Okay,” he says, and nods. “Good, I…” He nods again. “Good.” Then his heart sinks as he remembers the other thing he came here for. “…Captain,” he says, “I’m sorry. I got suspended for unsportsmanlike behavior. I’m not allowed to play in next week’s game.” He bows as deeply as he can manage while sitting down. “I apologize for the trouble I’ve caused the team. I have no excuse for my actions.”
He feels awful, saying it. He knows in his heart he’d do it again, but that doesn’t make it okay. And unsportsmanlike is a generous word for how he behaved. He probably would have gotten himself expelled if Kominato hadn’t hauled him away from the pitcher after his first furious shove. He deserves Sawamura being disappointed in him.
To his surprise, though, he feels something touch his bowed head, and he realizes Sawamura is tousling his hair. He sits up quickly, blushing. “Captain—”
“Don’t ‘captain’ me; it’s too weird,” Sawamura laments. “It still feels like you’re talking about Miyuki-senpai.”
“…Sawamura-senpai,” Okumira corrects.
“You can call me Eijun, you know,” Sawamura says. He looks almost shy. “If you want.”
Okumura swallows. Eijun-senpai, he thinks, but it won’t come out. “Senpai,” he repeats, softly.
Sawamura smiles. “I’m probably supposed to be angry with you, huh?”
“I… yeah,” Okumura says. “I lost my temper. It hurt the team.”
“Hmm. I guess so.” Sawamura shrugs. “I would have done the same thing, though.”
“…Yeah?”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to get my head,” Sawamura says, “but it wasn’t an accident that ball came toward me. If anyone else on the team got hit like that, I’d be furious. Especially if it was you.”
He says that last part without any hesitation. Okumura blinks. “Oh.”
“So, like… If the coach is mad at you, I get it,” Sawamura says. “But I don’t blame you.”
Okumura feels something in his chest unclench, and he sighs. Guilt still prickles at him, though, and he has to ask: “Would you have been mad at me if I’d gotten kicked off the team?”
Sawamura frowns at that. “What, for fighting?”
“For—” For what I wanted to do to him for hurting you, Okumura thinks. It still makes him sick to think about, the rage he felt. Maybe he doesn’t want Sawamura to know about that. “Never mind,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.”
Sawamura is still frowning at him, and Okumura gets the uncomfortable sense that Sawamura is picturing exactly what he would have done if he’d had the chance. Sawamura purses his lips, then looks down at the bed. “I’m glad nothing like that happened,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, you know?”
Okumura’s eyes fill abruptly with tears, and he can only nod. He does know. It’s all he’s been able to think about since he watched Sawamura fall to the ground. “Yeah,” he finally manages. “I’m sorry.”
Sawamura gives him a smile, then holds out his hand. Okumura hesitates, then takes Sawamura’s hand in his own. Sawamura tangles their fingers together, and Okumura blushes.
“It’s really late, huh?” Sawamura says, looking past him.
Okumura looks over his shoulder to the clock on the wall. It was a little before midnight when he came here, but it’s 1:35 now. He must have dozed off for a while.
“I’ll let you sleep,” he says, and starts to stand up. Sawamura squeezes his hand, though, and tugs him back down.
“The school nurse won’t be back until the morning,” he says. “You can stay here, if you want.”
“Huh?”
Sawamura lets go of Okumura’s hand and scoots away from him on the bed. It’s a one-person cot, undoubtedly, but when he moves all the way to the far edge there’s a person-sized gap on the sheets. Okumura stares at it.
“You know,” Sawamura says, “so you don’t wake up your roommates.” Then he smiles. “And to keep me company.”
“…Oh.”
“It’s fine if you don’t want to, though.”
The warm spot next to Sawamura looks incredibly inviting. Okumura wants to; it’s just…
“Isn’t it kind of soon to be sleeping together?” he asks, before he can stop himself. “You haven’t even kissed me yet.” Then he blushes hotly. Maybe Sawamura isn’t planning on kissing him; maybe he’s gotten this whole thing wrong.
Sawamura looks happy as he laughs, though. “Oh,” he says. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
Okumura’s heart trips in his chest. He’s thought about kissing Sawamura so much, but he tries to avoid it when Sawamura is actually around. Thinking about it while staring into his warm eyes; seeing the way his lips thin out when he smiles; smelling the scent of his skin—it’s way, way too much. “Uh-huh,” he manages to rasp.
Sawamura grins. “Okay. Come here, then.”
Okumura climbs onto the bed and clamors toward him. When he’s hovering over Sawamura, both hands braced over his shoulders, he stops and realizes that Sawamura is staring up at him with huge, startled eyes.
“Oh,” Sawamura whispers. He licks his lower lip, and Okumura’s heart hammers in his chest. Sawamura didn’t mean for him to do this, he realizes, too late. He’s about to apologize when Sawamura reaches up, puts a hand on the back of his head, and pulls him down. Their mouths collide clumsily, and a sharp jolt goes down Okumura’s spine. Then Sawamura lets him go, and they stare at each other.
They—really kissed, Okumura thinks, something hot filling his stomach. Sawamura wasn’t joking; they’re together, this is really… “Is this okay?” he blurts. Sawamura is bright red, still staring up at him with a wide-eyed expression Okumura can’t read.
“Uh-huh,” Sawamura says, and then shakes his head. “No, that was—it was great! It was just, um… kind of my first kiss?” He grins shyly. “I know, that’s lame right? I mean, I’m eighteen, I’ve just—been really busy, you know, with baseball… Well—you’re busy too, and you probably have more experience than me, I just—”
Okumura’s heart seizes, and he leans down to kiss Sawamura again. Sawamura makes a soft sound and goes quiet, and Okumura lets his lips linger, lets it slide into a second kiss, and a third. He’s never kissed anyone before, either, but it feels kind of natural. He doesn’t want Sawamura to feel nervous about it.
“I… oh,” Sawamura says quietly, when Okumura lifts his head. Sawamura’s other hand comes up, and he weaves both of them into Okumura’s hair, pulls Okumura down again. His mouth is open, this time, and Okumura takes it as an invitation to push his tongue inside; it meets Sawamura’s, slickly, and Sawamura moans, tightens his hands in Okumura’s hair, his back arching up—
“Oh, god,” Okumura says, and rips away from him. He presses the side of his hand to his mouth and fights an urge to bite down on it. “Senpai, we should not be sharing a bed.”
“Oh,” Sawamura says, and giggles brightly. His face is flushed. “Yeah, maybe not.”
“I mean, I—” want to, he thinks, but if he finishes that thought, he’s not sure he’ll be able to leave. He does want to—he wants to be more than Sawamura’s first kiss; he wants to be his first everything. He’s not sure if that’s what Sawamura wants, though. He realizes now that Sawamura might have been too nervous to kiss him, before. “—I don’t want to get in any more trouble,” he says, instead. “I’m already suspended for a game.”
“Right,” Sawamura says slowly, and nods. “Okay.”
Okumura crawls off him, swinging his legs down onto the floor on the side of the bed Sawamura is clinging to. At least he knows he can touch Sawamura now, he thinks. He reaches down to brush his bangs off his forehead, then traces his fingertips lightly over the developing bruise on his cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks. “Does your head still hurt?”
“It was hurting a little,” Sawamura admits. “I feel better now, though.” He smiles slowly. “Maybe you should kiss me again, just to be safe?”
Okumura’s heart thuds in his chest as he leans down. He kisses Sawamura’s forehead, brushes his lips lightly over the red spot on his cheek, then chastely kisses his lips. “How’s that?”
Sawamura nods. “Uh-huh,” he says. “A lot better.”
Okumura kisses him one more time, then stands up before he can talk himself out of it. “Good night,” he says, and then forces out: “Eijun-senpai.”
Sawamura’s face lights up. “Good night, Koushuu.”
Okumura nods and walks toward the door. “Please get better quickly,” he says, turning back. “The team needs you healthy. And…” He swallows. “I do, too.”
“Okay,” Sawamura says, and smiles at him. “I will.”
Okumura nods, then slides the door open and backs out of it, watching Sawamura’s face until he’s slid it all the way shut. He lets out a breath and presses his forehead to the door frame. There’s no need to rush things, he tells himself.
He’s walking back to the dorms, a minute later, when his phone buzzes in his pocket.
> thanks for checking on me
> and for kissing me
> that was really really good
> i’m gonna be thinking about it a LOT, hahaha
> anyhow
> good night koushuu 😘
Okumura groans out loud and covers his face with his hand. Dating Sawamura is going to kill him.
> im going to think about it too, he admits. Probably as soon as he gets back to his room, honestly.
> get some sleep senpai
He wavers for a second, then flips to the emoji keyboard. He picks one with a set of Zs, to tell Sawamura to go to sleep, and then… a blue heart isn’t too over the top, right? It’s their school color; that makes it normal. He adds it and hits send.
> 😴💙
> ❤️❤️❤️, Sawamura sends back immediately.
Okumura feels his own heart constrict in his chest. It’s going to be really, really hard not to rush things.
But… he takes another peek at his phone screen, the hearts next to Sawamura’s name. Maybe Sawamura already feels the same way. He shivers at the thought of Sawamura not holding back with him at all.
Well, they’ll get there, one way or another. He feels pretty sure of that. He shoves his phone into his pocket, and he smiles all the way back to his room.