Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12420690.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Ookiku_Furikabutte_|_Big_Windup!
  Relationship:
      Abe_Takaya/Mihashi_Ren
  Character:
      Abe_Takaya, Mihashi_Ren
  Additional Tags:
      Phone_Sex, Sexting, dubcon, Masturbation, Mutual_Masturbation, Nipple
      Play, Shower_Sex, Mid-Canon, Top!Mihashi
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-19 Words: 5269
****** Always Text Back ******
by WhiteCabaret
Summary
     Abe told Mihashi to always text back, no matter what.
Mihashi yawned widely as he stepped into a pair of clean boxers and pulled on
one of the many plain t-shirts in which he slept. He closed his bedroom door,
turned off the light, and then picked his cell phone up off his desk. When he
flipped it open, he wasn't too surprised to not see the ritual good night text
from Abe. Mihashi spent most of the afternoon and evening throwing practice
pitches in the side yard, exhausting himself, and was now going to bed a little
earlier than usual. He sat on top of the sheets for a few minutes, debating
with himself on what to do. Abe always sent the text first, so should Mihashi
wait? What if he fell asleep before Abe texted him? Then Mihashi wouldn't be
able to text back and he knew how angry that made Abe. Next time he saw the
catcher, he'd get a real ear-full about it. Suddenly, Mihashi realized he was
sweating and nearly hyperventilating just thinking about it. Better to text
first than not at all, right? Mihashi pursed his lips tightly while his thumb
pushed the keys one at a time and finally pressing Send.
Meanwhile, Abe was still up, sitting in the low chair he'd been confined to
while he healed from his injury. He was getting close to being fully recovered,
but, not wanting to risk anything going wrong, he'd been told to keep sleeping
on the first floor of the house until he was given a completely clean bill of
health to prevent any problems. The TV was on, the only thing he really had to
do down there, and he was leaning his head in his hand, elbow propped up on the
chair's arm. What he didn't expect was for his phone to buzz, and he was even
more surprised when he realized it was Mihashi who texted him first tonight.
Eyebrows rose, but he couldn't help quirking the smallest smile at it. Mihashi
never texted first! Not wanting to keep his pitcher waiting and give him time
to have a heart-attack, Abe typed out his good night response and quickly shot
it off.
Mihashi just laid down and closed his eyes when his phone lit up next to his
pillow. "Ah!" He sat up quickly and opened his phone to see that Abe texted
back. Light brown eyes widened as a blush crept onto his cheeks. Abe texted
back! "O-Oh... wh-wha..." What was he supposed to text now? Abe texted him so
Mihashi had to text back! But what could he say? There was the temptation to
just say good night again, but Abe wouldn't like that. It would be a waste of a
text. Mihashi's hand shook, palm damp, and he gripped the phone a bit tighter.
After swallowing more times than he could count, the pitcher finally texted in
reply Sweet dreams. His mom said that to him and so it was all he could think
of.
Abe barely put the phone down when it lit up again, and he confusedly brought
it back to his lap and read the text. Sweet dreams? That was new, too. Of
course, it wouldn't ever cross his mind that Mihashi was just texting back
because Abe told him to always text back. So he figured maybe Mihashi was
trying to get a conversation going for some reason. He didn't mind—he wouldn't
be going to bed for a while, anyway. So he decided to text back. Sweet dreams?
Like what?
"Ghn!" Oh no, another one! Was this a test? That must be it! Abe was testing
Mihashi's obedience! But... But Abe didn't need to do that. Whether it was on
the phone or on the field, Mihashi would follow Abe without fail. So then
why...? Both hands gripped the phone. Both hands trembling. He took deep
breaths. Sweet dreams... Sweet dreams... Sweet dreams... Nervously, his thumbs
moved across the keypad again. Sweet dreams like... Winning Koshien. Sweet
dreams like pitching to Abe really hard and fast, the way he likes me to pitch.
And then... Abe is happy.
Abe glanced at the text, then back at the TV, before his face lit up bright red
and he hurriedly lifted the phone to his face to re-read the message. He let
out a long breath when he realized that he misread it the first time. He could
have sworn, for a second, that the context of the message was much different.
Unless... was that supposed to be a double entendre? Would Mihashi even do
that? No, definitely not. But if he was... Abe bit his lip and typed out, That
does sound like a good dream. I wouldn't mind a dream like that. He paused and
deliberated sending the text for a minute. Was that too vague? Not vague
enough? Finally, he just decided to send it and see what happened.
"O-Oh!" Mihashi was surprised yet again. This was officially becoming the
longest text message conversation he ever had. With anyone. He read the text,
suddenly sitting up straight and even smiling. Abe thought his dream was good?
That... That was good! In fact, it felt nice getting to share something like
this with Abe. Dreams were one of those intimate things that friends shared and
made their friendship stronger. So then maybe... if they were going to make a
good team... Mihashi should share more? He nodded to himself before leaning
over the phone, typing a bit more eagerly now. I know you want me to learn how
to pitch faster. Sometimes, I dream we're at a big game and my pitches start
slow and controlled, like when we met. But... then my pitches get faster and
faster. I put my whole body into it and pitch so fast to Abe that he grunts
when he catches it. And it makes me feel good because I know Abe likes fast
pitches, but I also have the control that he likes because it means I pitch
right where Abe wants it.
Abe was sure he was misinterpreting these texts now, but he couldn't much bring
himself to care. Flashes of the scene with his misinterpretation layered over
it kept playing in his mind and now a heat was creeping up under his skin. He
rested one hand on his lap, drumming his fingers on his thigh nervously, as he
keyed out another message. That sounds really great, Mihashi, he started,
realizing his palms were sweating and taking a moment to wipe them off on his
chair. Would you pitch with everything you've got, even if it seemed like I
couldn't catch it? If I told you to?
Mihashi's shoulders and back went completely rigid, and his eyes went wide like
a cat's. If Abe couldn't catch one of his pitches? That was crazy! Abe was
amazing and could catch anything Mihashi pitched to him. "Of c-c-c-cou... O-Of
cou-co... coouuuu..." Mihashi stammered and nodded vigorously even as he typed.
I'd do anything you tell me to do, Abe! You're my catcher! I'll pitch as hard
and fast as you want. Even if catching makes you sore from how hard I pitch.
Because then we just get better together. I'd pitch... I'd pitch and pitch
until I was sweating and too out of breath to keep going, but still would if
you told me to!
Crap. Abe couldn't deal with this. He was simultaneously getting hot under the
collar and extremely guilty since he was now sure that Mihashi didn't know what
he was doing. He was palming himself through the cotton of his boxers but he
knew he couldn't go any farther unless he was upfront about it. Mihashi... What
if after the game— God, was he really going to do this? I brought you into the
changing rooms? To the showers? And then what if I kissed you there? He paused,
face red hot, hesitant and not sure if this was the right direction to go with
this. What would you do then?
As one hand gripped his cell phone, the other slapped over Mihashi's mouth
since some kind of alarmed noise tried coming out. Mihashi shook his head and
drew his knees into his chest, toes curling tightly beneath the sheets. Wh-What
was Abe asking him? Why? They were just talking about baseball! A-And why would
Abe want to kiss him? Mihashi wasn't... They weren't... But the others would be
there and see us! Mihashi replied, not grasping the full hypothetical of the
scenario.
Let's say they couldn't see us. Let's say we were playing at one of those
schools with the individual showers. Abe typed quickly, starting to panic a
little that maybe Mihashi wouldn't respond as well as he hoped. But he'd
already started down his road. There wasn't any taking back his last text. So
he might as well go for it. What would you do?
Mihashi read the text and then buried his face in his knees, free hand now
gripping his hair instead of his mouth. Why were they having this conversation?
Mihashi never did anything like this before. It was weird! He didn't know what
to say. He was even tempted to just close his phone, shove it under his pillow,
and force himself to sleep. But as much as Mihashi wanted to do that, he
couldn't. Deep down, he was too afraid of hurting Abe's feelings if he didn't
text back. So, Mihashi lifted his head a little and texted nervously. I guess I
would... Kiss Abe back? It was a question, like he was afraid of saying the
wrong thing. Because Abe could be testing him two ways, and Mihashi had no
earthly idea which was the right way to answer. I would kiss Abe, unless he
told me not to. Then... I would do whatever you said to do instead.
Even at the hesitant nature of the text, Abe couldn't help his heart pounding
in his ears. He knew one wrong word could totally ruin the strange balancing
act he now had going between what he wanted and trying to coax Mihashi into
sharing it with him. I wouldn't tell you not to, he wrote back feverishly. I'd
be happy if you did. Would you want to kiss back? You'd be happy about it?
Abe would be happy? Well then... that was all that mattered. Making Abe happy
was Mihashi's job. And he said as much in his text. If Abe would be happy that
I kissed him, then I would be happy too. Making Abe happy makes me happy.
Mihashi hoped that was the right answer.
Abe let out a small breath, partially annoyed and partially relieved. It wasn't
the most straight-forward answer in the world but it was something. What if
after we kissed for a while, he swallowed thickly, I asked you to pitch to me?
He wrote, putting emphasis on his choice of kanji. Hopefully, Mihashi
understood.
"U-Ummm..." Mihashi's face turned bright red, almost to the point that he could
have steam coming out his ears. Suddenly, things clicked. Now a hundred
questions swarmed inside Mihashi's head, but he didn't have time to ask them.
He couldn't stop their current conversation for his agonizing questions because
then Abe would get mad. Light brown eyes darted around the room, looking for
anyone who could possibly be spying on him and his text messages. Mihashi
crawled beneath the covers and pursed his lips together tightly as he carefully
crafted his next reply. I would be really nervous and really scared, Mihashi
admitted, even if Abe didn't want to hear that part. But... if Abe wanted me to
pitch to him, then I would do my best. I would tell him that... I've never
pitched like that before. I would tell Abe that if he told me what to do, then
I would do it just like that. But I would also ask Abe if... if he'd ever...
caught before.
Abe started to worry a little when it took Mihashi a while to respond to his
text. Maybe he'd gone too far that time. He laid his head back on the headrest
of his chair, letting the hand holding his phone drop into his lap as he let
out a long exhale, trying to come to terms with the fact that he probably
pushed his luck. He jumped when his phone suddenly vibrated, nearly fumbling it
as he brought it back to his face. Now it was his turn to clamp a hand over his
mouth as he read the text. It took him a minute to regain his composure, and
another to hesitantly lean forward and try seeing if anyone else was awake on
the first floor. He couldn't exactly get up and close the sliding doors that
led to the hallway and the kitchen to give himself some privacy. He just had to
pray no one came downstairs. I'd tell you I hadn't, he typed into the phone
once he was sure the coast was clear. But I'd ask you to do it anyway. His free
hand again wandered to the front of his boxers, fingers sliding under his
waistband. And I'd tell you how to pitch. As you did it. I'd tell you how so
that it'd be great for both of us.
That made Mihashi a little nervous. If Abe never caught before, he could get
hurt. And while it wouldn't be a sprained knee or a dislocated shoulder,
Mihashi might do something wrong and hurt Abe enough that he couldn't play
baseball. Even so... Abe was saying that he trusted Mihashi. He trusted Mihashi
as his pitcher, on and off the field. The least Mihashi could do is trust Abe
as his catcher. What would... I have to do first?
Abe was nearly chewing through his bottom lip as he slid his hand inside his
boxers and let it rest at the junction of his thigh, pressing testingly into
the soft skin there. You'd have to slide down my pants and boxers first. Then,
he took a second to compose himself again, you'd have to use your fingers to
get me ready. Like stretching before a game. I'd have lube with me you'd use.
You'd have to do it slowly, one finger at a time, and I'd talk you through it.
Even if... Damn it, it was hard to do this without getting completely
flustered. Even if I'd be moaning a lot from the feeling. I'd still tell you
what to do.
Mihashi gulped loudly. All that? He rubbed the back of his wrist again his
mouth and nose even though there was nothing there. He also nodded even though
Abe couldn't see him. I would turn on the shower, if you didn't mind, so no one
could hear us. When the water got warm, I would... I would push Abe against the
wall. Mihashi gasped and quickly amended, But not roughly! Then I would pull
your pants and boxers down, but just... to your knees, because I don't want Abe
to trip. And then I would... He took a deep breath and swallowed another lump
in his throat. I would slip my fingers inside Abe's sports cup so that I
could... could feel Abe.
Oh god. Abe groaned slightly and let himself take hold of his length, already
hard just from reading Mihashi's texts. He couldn't help it, not with his
normally shy pitcher suddenly saying stuff like that, even if it was just in
text form. Turning on the shower's a good idea, he typed. I wouldn't care about
getting wet by that point, anyway. He didn't want to admit that standing in a
shower in his clothes, just to avoid being caught, and the idea of Mihashi
pushing him up against the wall were both really enticing to him. But still...
I'd be really into that, he chose to write. I'd probably kiss you again, then.
And unbutton your pants, too. So I could get my hand inside your briefs and...
feel you too.
It was getting really hot and hard to breathe under the blankets, but Mihashi
didn't dare emerge from his hiding spot. He was making all sorts of weird, shy,
awkward noises. He pursed his lips together, blew them apart to take a series
of loud breaths, and then pursed them together again. A funny feeling was
forming in the front of his boxers, but Mihashi was too nervous to address it
yet. The important thing here was that Abe liked his ideas. When Abe was...
ready... I would move the cup out of the way too. Next, I would use the lube
you brought. I think... that I'd let Abe choose how much to put on my fingers.
Because I want Abe to feel good when I— Mihashi paused in the middle of his
text. Both eyes squeezed shut and he started shaking his head. What was this?
What was he doing? Was Abe for real right now? If this was a trick and the
whole team was there reading his texts... No! He couldn't think like that. Abe
would never do that to him —slip my first finger inside Abe. Slowly?
"Fuck yes," Abe groaned, rolling his shoulders back and closing his eyes as he
let the imagery wash over him for a moment. Then he was back to furiously
typing. Yes, slowly would feel good, he wrote. It'd have to be slow and
controlled. He took a second to think, and then realized that if there was one
thing Mihashi responded well to, it was praise. So... You don't have any
problem with control. So it'd probably feel really good, and I'd tell you so.
I'd tell you that it felt good and I'd tell you to keep going.
"O-Oh! Well..." Mihashi smiled at the praise before curling his lips together
again. I would keep going, then. I would be glad Abe felt good and I would kiss
you. If that was okay. On your jaw, I think. Where it starts to go under and
down into your neck. If that was okay. My finger would go all the way inside
and I would hope... that Abe doesn't mind my calluses. And when Abe was ready,
I would start using my second finger. Mihashi stopped typing for a minute. He
had to catch his breath. Sometime during the text, Mihashi's actual fingers
slipped under his shirt and started toying with a pert bud. Could I ask... Abe
to do something?
"Shit," Abe hissed as he started to pump his hand, slowly, as his eyes scanned
over the texts Mihashi sent him. He still couldn't believe that this was
actually happening. If he wasn't still injured he would have been tempted to
just leave his house then and go over to Mihashi's house to confirm that it
really was him holding the phone and typing out these messages. When he reached
the end of the message, his eyebrows rose a little. Yeah, what?
I would ask Abe to— Mihashi licked his lips nervously —put his hands under my
jersey and touch my chest. Maybe Abe, you... you could hold my side and pinch
my— His face turned bright red under the blankets while his thumb struggled to
type out the rest of his thoughts. Should he really be asking Abe to do all
this? Somehow, it didn't feel right wanting something that was supposed to be
for his friend. Mihashi shook his head. Pitching was his one job. He should
stick to it. Never mind. I would stretch Abe after that with both my fingers,
like a pair of scissors. I would do it slowly, just a little bit at a time, so
you could get used to it.
Wait, wait, what would you ask me to do? Abe's eyebrows knitted together. What
could it have been that was so embarrassing that he decided against saying it
even after sending the beginning of the request? C'mon, finish your thought. He
realized he probably sounded snippy in those last few texts, so he added, It'd
be just like being a battery. We need to have communication. Right?
It's not important, Mihashi texted back. He wouldn't even look at the phone's
screen, as if Abe's scowling face would suddenly appear there and yell at him.
He had to get them back on track. I would let Abe sit, because we're close to
being ready. I'd keep Abe against the wall, but I would let his legs prop
against me. I would slip my arm under his right leg so that I could kiss his
knee. And then I would ask you if it hurt. Your knee, I mean. When Abe was
comfortable enough, I would use three fingers. If that was okay.
Abe grit his teeth a bit. Mihashi was simultaneously getting him really annoyed
by not finishing his thought and getting him really worked up as he just kept
on going. How did Mihashi even manage to do that? He had to force his hand
still so he didn't get swept up in everything again until he got the answer he
was looking for. Mihashi! Tell me what you'd want me to do to you. If you make
it all about me, I feel like a pervert.
The redhead actually flinched at the text appearing on his phone. He could hear
Abe yelling at him and he could feel Abe's fists grinding against his temples.
It made Mihashi close his eyes and close his phone. He sat there huddled under
the covers while making those anxious, awkward, over-worked panting noises he
was so famous for among his friends. He even came a little close to crying. But
Mihashi couldn't just stop. He couldn't just pitch 80 and then walk off the
mound. Abe would hate him forever if he did. So, Mihashi opened the phone and
accessed Abe's text folder again. With a loud gulp, Mihashi put the phone under
his shirt, pushed the camera button, and added the caption: Like this. The
photo he sent showed his index and middle finger on either side of a flushed,
hardened bud, teasing it with a squeeze.
Abe actually started grinding his fists against his own temples and silently
cursing at himself for getting upset. Was he really that stupid? He managed to
get Mihashi to do something like this and he actually got mad in the middle of
it? He didn't expect the phone to buzz again. He expected Mihashi to completely
withdraw. So when it vibrated again in his lap, he jumped to attention,
flushing furiously and grabbing it back up in his hands. There was a picture.
Oh god, Mihashi actually sent a picture. He had to compose himself with a deep
breath before typing, If that's what you asked for, I'd do it, then. I'd slide
your shirt up and put my hands on your chest and use my fingers while you got
me ready with yours. I'd even use my mouth on them.
"M-M-Mou...Mouth?" Mihashi's chest heaved under his shirt from all the deep,
quick breaths. Like Abe, the fantasy started kicking in. Mihashi closed his
eyes. He could almost feel the hot water splashing down on his head and his wet
clothes weighing on his body. He could hear Abe breathing next to him. He could
feel a warm tongue lap at his chest, and without realizing it, Mihashi's own
mouth fell open with his tongue licking at his bottom lip. I would ask Abe,
finally, if he was ready to catch. I would spread all my fingers one last time
and ask Abe if he was ready for me to pitch to him.
Just imagining Mihashi actually asking him that, without stammering or
hesitation, was enough to get Abe to push his boxers down, letting his achingly
hard length out so he could start jacking off properly. His hand clenched the
tip and he could feel pre-cum leaking between his fingers. He had to stifle a
groan, head swimming with an inability to put together a coherent reply. Words
kept coming to mind and then vanishing just as quickly before he could put them
into a sentence that made any shred of sense. Finally, he decided on, I'd say
fuck yes. Was that too forward? Oh well, he already sent it. I'd say that after
leaving marks on your chest with my mouth. Some hickeys, maybe. And then I'd
lean back and open my legs more so you could, he swallowed thickly, pitch to
me.
Mihashi's body jolted and he pinched himself a little too hard, drawing a yelp
from him. How would he explain hickeys to the rest of the team when he changed
in front of them? But then Mihashi shook his head. No, no, this was only
hypothetical. He didn't have to worry about that kind of stuff. I would pull my
fingers away and kiss Abe's jaw again. Maybe a couple of times. I would keep
holding his right knee up because I don't want him to hurt it again. Then I
would take... myself... and I would put it inside Abe. Inside you. But I
wouldn't do it all at once. I would watch your face and listen to Abe very
carefully so he could tell me just how to do it. I would hold the lower part of
your back and push in only when you said so, until I was all the way in.
Abe couldn't help but get a little annoyed by Mihashi's continuous mentioning
of his knee. He knew the sentiment was sweet, but he wished he could get away
from the injury in a fantasy, at least. He wasn't about to stop things again to
snap about it, though. Things were getting too good to bother. His hand pumped
up and down his length and he tilted his head back, letting out a long,
contented sigh as he read the rest of the text, eyes continuously jumping
around and going back and re-reading the words. I'd tell you to go slowly, at
first, he typed, And once you were all the way in, I'd ask you to pitch... to a
certain spot. His face flushed a little as he admitted, Top, inside corner. And
once you hit it, I'd kiss you again.
"A-Abe..." The name crept out as Mihashi's hand crept inside his pants,
finally. He touched everywhere around his length, imagining it was Abe pawing
at him in the shower. Abe probably had smooth hands from wearing his glove all
the time. The leather and oils probably made his hands soft, but strong too
from swinging a bat. Yeah, Abe's hands were probably just like that. I would
pitch exactly where you want it, Abe. Top, inside corner. Mihashi pictured
himself shifting his weight just enough to hit his catcher's sweet spot. I
would kiss you back. I would even try opening my mouth, if Abe wanted me to.
I'd windup and pitch again. I'd pitch hard enough to make Abe grunt when he
catches it. I like hearing you grunt like that, because you sound sorta deep
and strong. And it would make me feel good.
"Shit, Mihashi," Abe hissed, eyes widening a bit and hand moving a bit faster.
Who would have known that Mihashi had it in him? He closed his eyes and tried
to feel the sensation of Mihashi hitting him in just the right place. If only
he had another free hand... But he didn't, so he just imagined, bucking his
hips a little once the sensation became real in his fantasy. If you started
pitching hard, I'd ask you to go harder. And faster. With your control, it'd be
amazing. I'd buck back into your hips to get you as much inside me as possible.
And then I'd kiss you again, and I'd open my mouth, too. And it'd be deep and
hot like you wouldn't believe.
Harder? Mihashi wasn't so sure about that, but if it was what Abe wanted, then
of course he'd do it. Under the covers, Mihashi was making his weird gasps,
hiccups and squawks. He tried his very best to stay quiet so his parents
wouldn’t come in checking on him. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to make the
skin pinch and turn white in his teeth, but never break skin. Mihashi also took
hold of his dick, albeit shakily, and stroked. I would rub my tongue against
your tongue, if that was okay. I would say Abe's name and wait for him to say
my name. My hand would grip your thigh a little harder and push your leg up a
little more. I would... kiss your neck. I would pitch to you again the very
best that I could and then I would tell Abe that I lo— But Mihashi's thumb
slipped and he hit the Send button before he could finish the text.
Abe read the text hungrily, but then his eyes fell on the last bit of kanji
sent before Mihashi, obviously, shot the text off too early. The kanji was
obviously for 'love', but without the rest of the sentence, he couldn't tell
what it was referring to. Love for what? Loved what they were doing? Loved
pitching? Or... Suddenly an image popped into his head of Mihashi slamming into
him, panting against his neck, and saying, strained, that he loved him. It was
too much. He came, hard, accidentally sending a string of nonsense hiragana
before dropping the phone on the floor next to him and curling into himself as
he rode out his orgasm. His leg ached a little from the sudden, jerky movement,
making him wince and hiss a little as the pleasure subsided, and he laid back,
breathing hard. He sat there contentedly for a minute before realizing with a
start that he'd left Mihashi hanging. And he was probably freaking out. Knowing
he had to send off even a little bit of praise, and quickly, he rooted around
for his phone and quickly typed out, That was perfect, Ren.
Indeed, Mihashi was hyperventilating on his side of the phone. The lines of
garble made him worry that something happened to Abe. His hand froze inside his
boxers while his eyes watched the screen, wide with anticipation. He even
scrolled through the text folder to see if maybe he'd missed one. "A-Abe!"
gasped Mihashi, ready to dial the catcher's phone number, but then a new text
appeared. The redhead let out a loud, relieved breath. Mihashi even slumped
forward with his chin in the mattress and his butt propped up in the air. He
blushed brightly when he actually read the kanji there on the screen. Thank
you, Abe.
Maybe it was the warm feeling spreading all through his body making him dumb,
but he smiled a little and typed back, Call me Takaya. He paused, thinking that
Mihashi probably hadn't gotten the satisfaction he had, and also that he didn't
want his pitcher to think that this was a one-time thing. So he also sent, I'll
make sure to return the favor sometime. Okay?
Takaya? That felt a little forward. Being able to add the affectionate -kun
onto the end of his friend's name had been more than enough for Mihashi, but if
Abe was giving him permission... And now that Abe insisted, he'd probably get
upset if Mihashi didn't call him by his first name. So the redhead nodded as he
typed, I'd like that, Takaya. Thanks... Thank you.
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