Chapter Text
It’s the day after getting a win against Seiho and Eijun should still feel giddy about the game. He should be thinking about his pitching or about his form or about the ace number.
Instead, if he does think about the match, then it’s Okumura’s blue eyes locked on his that come to mind. If he thinks about becoming the ace, he thinks of whether it will get him Miyuki’s acknowledgement or, at the very least, more of his time to catch for Eijun.
What a bother.
Yesterday, after they got Miyuki to stop laughing — Eijun ended up picking him up from the floor and shaking him into it — Okumura reluctantly offered his own feelings, also to both of them, which left Eijun blinking and speechless over the wreckage going on in his head. It is one thing to almost think about this. It’s another to stand there, both catchers looking at him expectantly, and try to comprehend the possibilities laid out in front of his heart.
When he asked how this is supposed to work, Miyuki just shrugged and said that they can figure it out. Okumura, visibly dissatisfied with the answer, still nodded. Eijun watched the matching resolve in their eyes and realized that he doesn’t have it in himself to let this go. The sweet pain in his chest felt like a sign of fate. He said that they could try. Now he sees Miyuki approach his desk, smiling almost shyly, and feels utterly unprepared for what that means. People are staring.
“I thought we could talk, just the two of us.” Eijun ran away, needing to think, right after they all nodded at each other, unsure of what to do next. “If you’d come up on the roof with me?”
Eijun nods, closing the book he was reading without marking the page, and follows him silently. As they exit the classroom, Miyuki reaches for his hand, loosely slots their fingers together. Eijun’s every sense stays focused on that point of contact. Physical touch has always been a thing Miyuki turned to, always preferring actions to words, closeness of bodies instead of minds. It occurs to Eijun that it must be difficult for someone like that to communicate with a pitcher with signs over the expanse of a baseball field.
He barely remembers the hallway and the stairs, people staring, the door opening. The roof, for once, is empty of other people. Miyuki stops right in the middle, then turns to face him, both of them still holding hands.
“You didn’t let me apologize yesterday. So I wanted to do this now.” Eijun watches the serious expression on his pretty face, fails to remember anything but the press of Miyuki’s lips against his. “In the end, you were right, I wasn’t open with you. Not about my feelings nor the little things two people would share with each other when in love.”
He keeps saying that word. Love. Everytime he does, Eijun’s heart skips a beat.
“So I’m sorry. For that and for kissing Okumura back without talking to you first. I promise to share more of myself with you, in whichever way you want: baseball or not. Hopefully I’ll be a better boyfriend than I am a make-out buddy.”
His charming smile, the shape of it. Eijun is weak before it. Would give anything to always have it aimed at him. It’s a sickness. He should check in with Okumura to see if their symptoms match as everything else seems to.
“Did you know that he was… uh. That he had a crush on me?”
“I had a feeling.” Miyuki smiles crookedly, which shouldn’t be this attractive at all. “The way he looks at you sometimes. How close you stand together. It’s surprising I wasn’t jealous, really. I usually am.”
The wind picks up and Eijun shivers. He steps a little closer, looking down at their hands, biting his lip. The thought of Miyuki being jealous, of him taking this thing between them seriously while Eijun tried as hard as he could to be casual, makes it all seem silly.
“I felt left out,” he blurts out finally. “When I heard you two talk. I just couldn’t really explain it to myself. It was very… confusing.”
“Everything about you is confusing, Sawamura.”
Before Eijun can decide whether that was yet another veiled insult, Miyuki leans in and brushes their noses together, as if asking permission. The gesture is so tender, so unlike the usual confidence of his ways. Eijun turns his head and lets their lips brush. It starts off soft, gentle. Then Miyuki reaches for his waist, presses them together, and the kiss turns hungry, making Eijun remember just how long it’s been since the last one. Barely a week, maybe. Still too long.
“I missed you,” he says, right into Miyuki’s mouth. If only this wasn’t the middle of the day and they weren’t at school. If only Okumura— “Is Okumura good at this?”
Miyuki laughs, burying his face in Eijun’s shoulder. His body is warm, solid.
“Eijun, I swear—” Another fit of laughter. His name on Miyuki’s tongue is the rightness of a baseball in his hand, the fittingness of it. “Don’t you want to know it yourself?”
“Answer the question!”
“He’s alright. Less practiced than either of us are.” They kiss again, Eijun brushing his tongue between Miyuki’s lips before pulling away. “Much less.”
“You looked like you enjoyed it though.”
“That was because it was him. More about the guy than his kissing skills.”
Eijun is laughing too now, and the way Miyuki looks at him, it’s like a promise of the summer to come, filled with triumph and happiness. They’ll get to play together and challenge each other and tug Okumura in, entangle him into it until he gives up his frowns and brooding. Now that he thinks about it, Eijun has never heard the sound of his laugh.
They’ll put this wrong to right soon enough.
***
“You’re fucking with me.”
“If there’s anyone being fucked with, Taku, it’s definitely not you.”
They’re sitting on the grass hill, done with the cool-down drills. Dinner is still an hour away but the thought of eating makes Koushuu feel sick. Summer training camp is just around the corner and according to Kanemaru it’s going to be hell on earth. Koushuu isn’t sure he’s going to survive it.
“Well, that’s miles better than what you’ve expected, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s just— that’s insane.” He still can’t wrap his head around the idea of dating two people, let alone the two being Miyuki and Sawamura. It’s complicated enough having crushes on both. It’s a nightmare to like them. It’s exhilarating to have them like him back.
“Life’s insane, Koushuu.” Taku sighs, tilting his head like a mother to her silly naive child. “And I think you’re winning it so far.”
And he’s probably right.
So far it doesn’t feel like anything, though. He and Miyuki have already shared the weird tension before yesterday, so there’s nothing that Koushuu hasn’t been through before. The only new thing was Miyuki brushing their fingers briefly on his way out to practice. And even that might’ve been an accident. As for Sawamura, there wasn’t much time to talk during the team’s morning run. At some point the pitcher turned around, flashing him a bright smile, and Koushuu stumbled almost face planting into the packed earth. Embarrassing but nothing new.
“Just letting you know, if you ever ditch me to hang out with your boyfriends or something, I’ll shave your head in your sleep.” It’s a good thing he always has Taku to bother him out of retreating into his head. Koushuu rolls his eyes.
“Weren’t you the one complaining we spend way too much time together?”
“Yes, but now you’ll spend all your time making heart-eyes at Sawamura-senpai or hate kissing Miyuki-senpai into shutting up.” Koushuu shoves him onto the grass and is about to roll him down the hill with his foot, when someone sneaks up on them.
“Did someone mention kissing me?” Miyuki leans over his shoulder, and Koushuu can smell the fresh scent of deodorant he uses. It’s distracting.
“No.”
“Ah, right. It was hate-kissing, my bad.” He flops down next to them before bumping fists with Taku either in greeting or in solidarity over Koushuu’s annoyance. He should’ve never let them talk to each other. Miyuki ends up sitting too close, his thigh pressed flush against Koushuu’s and arm placed behind his back. “I don’t mind, by the way.”
“You can ask Sawamura-senpai then.”
“Oh, we’re more about passionate making out.” Taku suddenly looks like he’s about to retch. “You’ll learn though.”
Koushuu drops his eyes to Miyuki’s lips, remembering their kiss. Yeah, passionate sounds about right. The thought of getting hands-on experience makes him shiver. The idea of getting to see Sawamura and Miyuki doing the same has Koushuu flushing red. Hormones, all of it is just hormones.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Taku says, standing up and shaking the grass of his uniform. “See you at dinner, guys. Please don’t traumatize anyone in the vicinity.”
Koushuu watches him leave, murder in his eyes. Miyuki leans closer, puts a cheek on his shoulder. The sun is beating down on them and it’s hot, but the gesture sends a different kind of warmth through Koushuu’s chest. This is new, this is… scary. He tries not to move, but then Miyuki pulls away, watching his face.
“Do you actually mind the PDA or is it the way you mind Sawamura’s obnoxious laugh?”
“What’s the difference?” Koushuu gauges the distance between their faces, counts the amount of times Miyuki’s eyes dart to his lips.
“Well, one of those you actually like and the other one you might like if I do it right.”
“Your smirks are obnoxious enough, I think.”
Miyuki laughs and nudges him with his shoulder until he breaks into a smile. And that’s when it does feel like winning, them sitting together in the grass, flirting and almost kissing. Koushuu lets his knuckles brush Miyuki’s knee, remembering Sawamura’s touch on his.
“We should play catch tonight,” Miyuki suggests out of nowhere.
“You mean all three of us?”
“I was actually thinking it might be fun to do it just the two of us and then have someone tell Sawamura, so that he comes over and I get to tease him until he does the shutting up thing Seto mentioned earlier.”
“You two must be the most exhausting people to date each other.” Koushuu shakes his head, finally turning away. The wind picks up, blowing the fringe away from his face. The summer is right around the corner, and they’ll soon be fighting for their place at Koshien. The only thing on his mind should be getting on that roster. Instead, it’s this.
“I mean, it’ll be worse for you.”
From Miyuki this sounds like a promise. A challenge, maybe. Koushuu feels a hunger rise in his heart. There’s a shout, and when they turn to look, Sawamura is waving at them from the field, still half-naked, an ice wrap around his shoulder. He starts jogging toward them, obviously not planning on putting on a shirt. Maybe it’s not a bad idea to annoy him.
Koushuu doesn’t stop to think, just turns back to Miyuki, grabbing his chin, and kisses him full on the mouth. He hears Sawamura exclaim and catches Miyuki’s surprised noise with his tongue. They won’t be the only ones catching him off guard and bringing in chaos. The thought also feels like winning.
***
The practice for the next couple of days is brutal, so playing catch is out of the question. It’s like they are raising the intensity in preparation for the summer already. Kazuya can barely move his limbs. Okumura is almost comatose. So they invite Eijun over, who is, of course, somehow still has energy. Luckily, Kimura is off with his family as Kazuya had used up his monthly privacy favor (they each get one free) for his confession.
Now he lies sprawled on the floor with his head in Okumura’s lap, listening to Eijun talk about that manga he’s reading, the plot of which is even more ridiculous than what the three of them have currently going on. When Kazuya first reached for Okumura’s hand to tug him off his bed, it was like trying to coax a kitten into your lap. If said kitten also growled at you.
“Don’t wanna?” Kazuya asked him innocently, hand on his thigh. Okumura frowned at him but relented. Now he has his fingers in Kazuya’s hair, tugging slightly. Eijun watches them, biting his lip, as if not sure whether he wants to join or not miss the view.
Kazuya enjoys calling him by his first name in his head. He likes the way Eijun blushes, when he says it out loud as well. He wonders if he’ll get to call Okumura by his at some point.
“And then they kiss but it’s, like, in the middle of the goddamn forest, full of hunters!”
“This werewolf seems too stupid to have survived for so long,” Kazuya drawls, catching hold of Okumura’s free hand to play with his fingers. They seem reluctant to cooperate, especially after Kazuya tries to bite at them lightly. It’s a work in progress.
“Which is why he needs her so badly!” Eijun grins triumphantly, as if that’s what he’s been leading up to this whole time. He even claps his hands like a child
“Ah, is that why you need two boyfriends then? To keep you up and about?”
That gets Kazuya a kick to the shin, but also Okumura’s small smirk, so it evens out. They bicker some more until Eijun sits on him either in an attempt to strangle him or as part of foreplay, Kazuya isn’t too sure. He’s having a wonderful time being an asshole to his boyfriend either way.
Okumura visibly checks out of the conversation, so much so that even Eijun notices and starts snapping his fingers in front of the first-year’s face. Kazuya loses hold on Okumura’s hand as it moves to slap away Eijun’s.
“So do they end up dead?”
The question is so sudden Kazuya raises his face to him. Okumura didn’t seem like he cared about the story at all, but the curiosity in his eyes now is quite real. Eijun looks surprised as well, but pleasantly so. There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he shakes his head. Makes Kazuya want to kiss him.
Which is exactly what Okumura does.
With all the jokes Kazuya made to Eijun about kissing practice, it’s embarrassing how it’s neither of them who have initiated anything for the past three days. Well, in truth they haven’t done anything at all, except for having a lunch date once. Kazuya has been going mad over being anywhere near them. Now he watches Okumura move his mouth against Eijun’s and his own lips tingle. Seeing people kiss over your face shouldn’t be this hot. Their joint hands rest on Kazuya’s chest, right over his heart, which races with the realization that this is really happening.
He can’t believe he thought he was happy before this was real.
Now he reaches for the shape of Eijun’s hips over his stomach, runs his hands over the strong thighs. He waits for them to pull away, eyes hazy, half-lidded. Then Kazuya pulls Okumura down by the collar of his t-shirt and licks Eijun’s taste off his lips. Every muscle in his body feels like lead, but right now, with these two on him, it all fades away.
Before this, a year ago or so, when the confessions wouldn’t stop coming, Kazuya briefly entertained the idea of never dating at all. When people keep telling you they like you, hoards of them, you can’t help but feel that maybe something’s wrong with you if you can’t like any of them back and you’re also really bad at offering any consolation about it. Back then, love felt like a thing he would watch from the outside.
When Eijun first kissed him, it was a possibility.
Now, it feels like a goal.
“Will you tell me what's with you and Fujihara-san now?” Okumura asks out of nowhere. Kazuya, whose world is still spinning from the kiss, comes back to reality and realizes the question wasn't for him, but for Eijun.
“Are you jealous, Wolfboy?”
“Yes.” The answer is immediate, like the information is inconsequential, and Okumura just wants to get to the point.
“First of all, wow,” Kazuya says to him, raising up on his elbows. “Please tell me when it's me you're jealous about, this looks like fun. Second of all,” he turns away from the eyeroll to Eijun, “what's that about you and the girl who confessed to me less than three weeks ago?.”
“It's nothing.”
“Oh, I'm sure Okumura wouldn't make a big deal out of it if it was.”
“I felt guilty because I thought you rejected her for me.” Eijun doesn't look at him, but somewhere on the floor. “And then I just— I couldn't stop thinking about how we're not even dating and if I told you I liked you, you'd just—”
“Wait, you like me?”
“No. That was a hypothetical.”
Kazuya tugs him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, smiling his stupidest, sappiest grin. Okumura, watching them, looks as if he’s stunned, either by their casual intimacy or by Eijun’s answer. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks. Finally, he opens his mouth:
“So you really were just being a good friend.”
“Exactly! But it’s cute that you were jealous. Just never assume I’m fooling around with Furuya, please. That’s just gross.”
Kazuya rolls his eyes, arm sliding around Eijun’s hips again, and then catches Okumura’s gaze. He sees a familiar feeling in them, the fond exasperation of liking someone at once ridiculous but also wonderful. For Kazuya, this is what it’s been like for the past god-knows-how-long. Now he shares this with someone equally weirded out by their feelings. It’s gratifying.
“—and if there’s someone to keep an eye on, it’s the pretty boy catcher over here.”
“Sure. Just don’t forget to blink.”
When Eijun tackles him this time, Okumura can’t avoid being tugged into it as well. Kazuya hears him let out a soft laugh once he’s cuddled between the two of them, their arms and legs tangled. The sound of it is like a breath of relief he takes after finally getting a hit.
Something in Kazuya’s chest expands, his heart probably, to include this new reality into his world. He’ll have to figure it out as he goes. But then again, everyone does.