Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7800607.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      ダイヤのA_|_Daiya_no_A_|_Ace_of_Diamond
  Relationship:
      Miyuki_Kazuya/Sawamura_Eijun
  Character:
      Miyuki_Kazuya, Sawamura_Eijun, Kuramochi_Youichi, Furuya_Satoru, other
      members_of_the_team
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time, Established_Relationship, first_chapter_is_the_lead_up,
      second_chapter_is_pretty_much_all_smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-08-18 Completed: 2016-08-27 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 12748
****** Cherish ******
by tell_tale_heart
Summary
     After months of dating, Miyuki Kazuya and Sawamura Eijun decide
     they're ready to take things one step further.
Notes
     I wanted to write a quick Miyusawa smutty one-shot, without angst.
     But of courseeeee, this turned out to be two chapters. Because I
     can't help myself. They just write themselves most of the time. First
     chap is some development, second is pretty much all smut.
     Let me know what you think!
     Second chapter will be up on Friday 8/26 or Saturday 8/27. :)
***** Chapter 1 *****
The sounds of grunts and metal on metal filled the training room, as all around
the Seidou starters worked on various pieces of equipment. The scent of sweat
was heavy in the air, present in every corner of the room. Sawamura Eijun was
glad that somebody had thought to crack open a window. The cool fall air was a
slight reprieve on sweaty skin, but not cold enough that it would chill their
bodies while they worked out. He wiped at the congregation of moisture on his
forehead with his still-tan forearm absently, watching as Zono added more
weight to the squat rack. Inside the cage, Shirasu was breathing deeply between
sets, his royal blue shirt drenched in so much sweat that it looked almost
navy.
Sawamura's golden-brown eyes wandered around idly, watching as Toujou and
Kanemaru worked side-by-side at the seated shoulder press, their eyes focused
and faces clenched as they pulled down on the bar. He noticed the amount of
weight stacked up behind them, and thought smugly to himself oh I can
definitely lift more than that! He lifted his chin in playful arrogance, not
seeing that his two teammates added more weight after their first set. Near the
free weight area, both Haruichi and Kawakami were choosing among the dumbbells,
getting ready for their own exercise lineup. He noticed that his pal had
started to tie back some of his bright pink hair so that it didn't stick to his
neck while he worked out.
"Hey! Dummy! Shouldn't you be paying attention?" There was a loud cackle
nearby, and Sawamura would know it anywhere. In their room where he would
receive a surprise attack and then his head would be put into a restraining
headlock, or on the baseball diamond as Sawamura cheered his own successes and
then he'd receive a swift kick to the ass. Instinctively, his roommate's tone
and cackle had him reacting defensively, and his eyes narrowed.
Frowning now, he looked over to his right, and Miyuki and Kuramochi had come to
occupy the bench press next to him. The catcher had taken a seat on the bench,
and for a moment, that's all he could focus on. All of Sawamura's huffiness and
puffiness disappeared in the fraction of a second, eyes widening, a fresh wave
of pink heightening his already flushed face. He felt his fingers unfurling
from the fists that he had had them clenched in, all of his tension
dissipating, joining the sweat-scented air around him. His heart started
pounding earnestly in his chest, and his mouth was suddenly achingly dry.
He was thirsty. So incredibly thirsty.
Miyuki Kazuya was breathing deeply, catching his breath from whatever exercise
he and Kuramochi had just completed. His Seidou team t-shirt, though white, was
clearly saturated with copious amounts of sweat. The fabric clung to his chest
in an appealing way, highlighting his powerfully athletic form underneath.
While seated, his athletic pants squeezed tightly against his well-formed
thighs, a tribute to all of the squats that Miyuki worked through in each of
his workouts. Sawamura's eyes panned up, not missing the catcher's strong
shoulders, or the way his dark brown hair fell slightly over his ears, or how
it hung in sweaty strands on his neck in the back. He watched as Miyuki took a
few much-needed gulps out of his water bottle, his slightly curvy lips
squeezing at the bottle's plastic tip. Miyuki's brown eyes flashed
mischievously and knowingly behind his black, square-framed glasses. He clearly
saw the way Sawamura Eijun responded to him, and he took full advantage of it.
"Did you even hear me? Yo! Sawamura! Wake the hell up!"
Sawamura shook his head, a necessary action to get Miyuki Kazuya out of his
mind. He saw that Kuramochi was glaring at him in exasperation, his hands on
his hips, sneakered foot beating an angry pattern on the floor.
"Do you even know how many reps Furuya's at?"
Oh. Oh shit.
Sawamura looked hastily down at his pitching teammate. Furuya Satoru's face was
almost red and quite sweaty, and he exhaled wearily as he reached the top with
his barbell. Sawamura was supposed to be his spotter, keeping an eye out in
case he couldn't manage to complete his set.
"Furuya, how many are you at?" Sawamura whispered, leaning down over his
teammate.
"17," Furuya grunted, lowering the barbell slowly to his chest.
"You should only be doing 15!"
"Yeah, well, I thought I could do 20."
"You were supposed to be the one keeping track, Sawamura," Kuramochi pointed
out.
"Arghhh." The golden brown-eyed pitcher looked down at Furuya, determined to
try and pay better attention. Sometimes he just couldn't help it, counting reps
got boring very quickly, especially when Furuya usually ignored him when he
tried to joke or complain. And then there was Miyuki Kazuya, walking around
them, nothing but a distraction, looking incredibly sweaty and dear god how he
admired the way it ran down his neck and created this shiny sheen on his face .
. .
"Furuya. Don't go over the rep number again. You don't want to overwork your
muscles. You'll get injured," their captain contributed.  Sawamura helped
Furuya set the barbell on its metal rung, and then he looked back to his
catcher. Miyuki was considering him seriously, too.  Perhaps knowing that
Sawamura would naturally want to lift more than Furuya had.
"Don't try to go over your number, either, Sawamura." Then a sly smirk graced
his features as he lied down on the bench, ready for his own set. Sawamura's
eyes helplessly took in how Miyuki's body stretched along the length of the
bench, legs parted, feet planted firmly on the ground. But Miyuki was still
speaking to him, and he made an effort to listen to his weightlifting advice.
"Unless . . . you plan on tiring yourself out tonight here in the weight room."
Kuramochi snorted loudly, quickly turning attentive as Miyuki lifted the
barbell. So neither of them saw the brunet pitcher turning suddenly self-
conscious at the pointed remark, moving awkwardly to adjust the amount of
weight on the barbell. Beside him, Furuya wiped his face with a towel, his face
slowly going back to its normal creamy hue. He most likely hadn't overheard the
last of what Miyuki said, his cool blue-gray eyes fixed on a certain bubblegum
pink head of hair across the room.
The training room slowly emptied out as the players finished their exercise
menu. Sawamura eventually found himself just standing in place in front of the
showerhead, too tired at the moment to move. The warm water fell onto his
upturned face, cascading down his chest and legs. Almost robotically, he
reached for shampoo, spreading a liberal amount onto his palm and then working
it through his hair. Furuya and Haruichi were somewhere close by, absorbed in
their own cleaning routine, most likely just as tired as he was.
He was just changing into clean clothes when he heard Kuramochi's cackle
announcing his presence before he actually appeared. That meant Miyuki was most
likely nearby, too. Sawamura slipped a blue t-shirt on, no longer tired at all.
A sort of exhilarated anticipation had begun to light up inside of him, like
sparklers against the night sky. And he knew exactly why.
Sawamura headed towards the locker room's entrance, passing first by Zono and
then Kuramochi. The shortstop playfully snapped a towel at him as he passed by,
but missed. Sawamura glared triumphantly at his roommate, trying to think of
new ways to get him back for his antics. Last came Miyuki, sweat still visible
on his body, but eyes bright. At the sight of Sawamura, Miyuki stopped in the
pitcher's path, a warm hand touching his shoulder.
"Hey," he said quietly, brown eyes searching the room around them. They were
alone for the moment, Kuramochi's loud voice carrying over the banks of
lockers, a few rows away now. Seeing that nobody was nearby, Miyuki looked back
to Sawamura and smiled warmly. "Tonight?"
The brunet pitcher nodded, his breathing picking up, fingers tingling with the
want to start now. Sweat or no sweat. Miyuki saw it all over his face, the way
his lips were slightly parted and how he could hear every individual
exhalation, the way those golden-brown eyes fixated on Miyuki's curved lips.
Sawamura took a step closer to his boyfriend, tangling his fingers in Miyuki's
sweat-dampened shirt, moving forward to kiss him softly on the corner of his
mouth. "Yes. Tonight."
The catcher gently loosened Sawamura's hand from his shirt, lacing their
fingers together. "I'll see you soon, then."
Sawamura nodded, swallowing heavily. "Yeah."
 
===============================================================================
 
Kuramochi Youichi, champion extraordinaire (or at least amongst the Seidou
players) of video games, had arranged a video game soiree for Friday night. He
had told their table at lunch about it earlier that day, mentioning that
everyone should bring their Nintendo 3DS and games to exchange and he would
bring his PS4. Maezono had chimed in then, explaining how he was hosting it in
his room ("He's got a huge barrel of cheese balls," Kuramochi had whispered to
Sawamura, eyebrows waggling excitedly). It looked like most of their table was
interested, offering to bring snacks or other games. Even Haruichi had been
excited, his enthusiasm enough to convince a drowsy Furuya to attend.
Sawamura had then looked at Miyuki, seated across the table from him, to find
that the catcher was already looking at him meaningfully, a question apparent
in the way he raised his eyebrows. The pitcher had grinned, answering the
unspoken question. They had been waiting some time for this, an extended amount
of time alone in one of their rooms where they could continue the intimate side
of their relationship.
But now the pitcher watched as Kuramochi dangled his feet off the side of his
top bunk, humming to himself as he fiddled with his phone. The shortstop had
loitered around their room after coming back from his shower, one minute
searching frantically for something in his backpack and the next, throwing
dirty socks in the general direction of his hamper. Sawamura checked the time.
7:58 pm. Miyuki would be here any minute, and he wanted a few minutes alone
before he arrived in order to calm himself. But Kuramochi didn't look like he
was getting ready to leave anytime soon.
"Ummmm, Mochi?" Sawamura began slowly, trying to figure out how to word it
casually and without revealing his true motives, "Aren't you going to Zono's?
For that video game thing?"
Kuramochi's feet stilled against their bed frame. The video he was watching on
his phone was suddenly muted or minimized.
"Whyyyyy?" he asked quietly with a lilt at the end. If Sawamura hadn't been too
focused on watching out for texts from Miyuki or considering what tonight might
bring, then he might've picked up on the dangerous note in Kuramochi's voice.
"Ermmm. Well it starts at 8, right? And I kind of just wanted to relax, so I
don't think I'll be going tonight. Yeah, so. Sorry," he finished lamely, taking
the time to sniff himself. Had he put on deoderant? Yes, he sure had. And then
that made him think of how much he liked Miyuki's natural scent, and how the
catcher's skin tasted under his curious tongue.
Sawamura's phone vibrated then, and he eagerly unlocked it when he saw it was
from Miyuki. So the sudden creaking sound of bedsprings didn't register, nor
did the sound of Kuramochi dropping to the floor near the side of the bunk
beds.
See you in a few.
The brunet felt the stirrings of heat began to pool into his limbs slowly, like
cake batter poured into a waiting pan. He remained gazing at the text on his
phone, Miyuki's words becoming a mantra. See you in a few see you in a few see
you in a few. It was really happening, it was going to happen, soon Miyuki
would be here and he would give Sawamura that look, the one that meant he
wanted to keep kissing and touching and exploring Sawamura further. . . and
Sawamura wanted him to keep going.
Suddenly his ankles were grasped, and the pitcher looked up to see a gleeful
Kuramochi pulling him off the bed by his legs, and he narrowly missed hitting
his head on the wooden frame of his bed.
"What are you up to, eh? I can tell you're plotting something! You can't hide
anything from me!"
"Ahhhhh!" Sawamura yelped as his butt hit the floor. He had plenty of
experience getting in wrestling tussles with Kuramochi, and he knew well and
good what would make his defeat easiest. But he had no intention of letting his
roommate lord another victory over his head. He had tried a few things in the
past, pulling at his own ankles in an attempt to free them, twisting his body
like a snake to try and confuse Mochi. But those proved time and time again to
be futile exercises, only serving to bring a loss sooner rather than later.
So this time, he watched keenly as Kuramochi quickly considered his options,
and the sudden gleam in the shortshop's eye was the only hint that Sawamura had
that he was ready to make his move. Sure enough, Kuramochi suddenly threw his
legs to the side, trying to get Sawamura off balance and onto one side so that
he could gain an opening to eventutally get him on his belly. Then it would be
game over for sure. As the shortstop fell forward, Sawamura darted a hand out,
poking Kuramochi in his side.
A high-pitched noise, sounding suspiciously like a giggle, escaped from
Kuramochi's mouth. He backed up to the side of the bed, eyeing Sawamura warily.
"Hey! You--you cheated!" Kuramochi exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at
Sawamura, as the pitcher scrambled to his feet.
"Oh no I didn't," Sawamura returned indignantly, eyes narrowed like a lioness.
He began to circle Kuramochi, trying to find an opening. "I'm just making use
of my weapons."
"NO! Wait! This isn't fair!" Kuramochi held his hands out in front of him
supplicatingly, trying to deter Sawamura from further action.
The pitcher leaned back his head and laughed evilly. "Not fair? Not FAIR?? How
do you explain the last year and a half of my life? Huh??"
And with that, he darted forward, tickling Kuramochi's side. "Hey! HEHH HEHHH!
Stop! AGHHH! Ok, I'll say it. Sawamura, I give! You win!"
There was rapping at their door, and Miyuki Kazuya entered. He looked first at
Kuramochi, looking terrified, and then to Sawamura, who was smirking at his
prey.
"Am I interrupting something?"
"No! Thank god, Miyuki." With that Kuramochi edged himself away slowly from
Sawmura, and then, once out of striking distance, hurriedly started to grab a
handful of games.
Miyuki watched this in amusement, reaching up to grab Kuramochi's phone from
his bed, and then handing it over to his friend. Now becoming settled and away
from danger, Kuramochi eyed his captain and then turned to glare at Sawamura.
"I get it now. Look. Just don't . . . not on my bed, okay?" And with that, he
was gone.
 
===============================================================================
 
Miyuki remembered fondly how he and Sawamura got together. It was somewhere
near the end of his second year that he really began to notice the energetic
pitcher, coming into his own. He had noticed right away on day one, of course,
that Sawamura was gorgeous. In a blistering, shimmering, heated kind of way.
But Miyuki began to feel a sort of anchoring in the spring, when everything
began to change. Including the way he looked at Sawamura, beginning to see him
in a new light. Admiring him not just for his spirited beauty but also
everything else that made him who he was. Like his fearlessness on the diamond,
and how he would stare down base runners in such a way that they would quake
under his glare. His tenacity at perfecting new pitches. How time after time he
would demand "just ten more pitches!" and Miyuki could see the light of
determination in his eyes despite how tired his body must have been. And the
pitcher seemed to notice his lingering stare in return, eyeing him back just as
intently, eyes like twin flames of heat.
One day in April, after a long and engaging practice match, Miyuki had dropped
heavily into a seat next to Sawamura on their bus. He leaned his head back,
weary from the day's events, but he knew there were several pitching issues
that he had to address with Sawamura. Which he knew he wouldn't want to hear
about. Rotating his head around a few times to relax, he had finally looked
sideways at the pitcher, beginning to speak.
"I wanted--"
But then all he saw was a searing set of golden-brown eyes fixed on his, lips
bearing down on him. And then they were kissing right there on the team bus as
it traveled back towards Seidou. Miyuki was fairly certain that both Haruichi
and Furuya saw this happen, for they were sitting in the seats across the aisle
from them. But Miyuki hadn't cared. Because all of the attraction that had been
building up for a long time now had finally spilled forward, coating them
together in the same vibrant colors. Sawamura was all warmth and want and
intensity, eagerness seen in the way his hand grabbed onto Miyuki's shoulder
and hung on tightly as if he never planned on letting go. His lips moved
against the catcher's as if they had belonged there for ages, pressing hard
against him, urgent and needy. Their teeth knocked together at one point, and
they even awkwardly tried to move their head in the same direction when
switching positions, but it didn't matter. Because Sawamura Eijun had kissed
him. Miyuki caught the faint taste of sour apple gum from Sawamura's mouth, and
from that day on, he would always love that taste.
When they parted some time later, Miyuki had looked at Sawamura in wonder. "I
wasn't sure if you liked guys," he said with a breath of a laugh, still amazed
that this beautiful boy had taken the initiative and had orchestrated their
first kiss.
Sawamura shrugged, his mouth curved in a wide smile, eyes not able to look away
from Miyuki. "I don't really know about that. I just know that I like you. A
lot."
It was so simple, when you analyzed it like that. Sawamura wasn't a mass of
complications. He was never going to be the type for deep self-reflection,
beating himself up repeatedly for something he could have done better. He did
things, and he would work at it until he did it well. And the same held true
with how he regarded Miyuki. There was no second-guessing himself.  And it was
something that Miyuki had come to admire about the young pitcher. His brazen
self-confidence. His inability to hold back when he wanted something. His
sincere honesty.
After months now of dating, Sawamura and Miyuki had talked about sex. They had
done a lot of intimate actions already, hands and mouths fully exploring each
other. Together, the two of them had accumulated hours of tracing the other's
facial structure, kissing trails down their neck, tonguing the inside of a warm
mouth. Sawamura had found out that Miyuki responded to being bitten lightly
pretty much anywhere, and he took full advantage of that. They would be making
out heavily, hands wandering, and then Sawamura would surprise him by starting
a line of slow kisses on his chest, only to feel the sharp edge of the
pitcher's teeth sink into him. Miyuki would begin to writhe a little, groaning
into the space between them.
The catcher, on the other hand, had found out that Sawamura seemed to be into
the idea of restraint. Though Sawamura was not good at holding back himself
when he needed to in mostly any other way, when Miyuki held his boyfriend's
joined wrists on the pillow above his head, Sawamura would start pushing his
hips into Miyuki's with greater fervor, and there was no mistaking his full
arousal then. Or when Miyuki would teasingly hold Sawamura's eager hips down, a
low whine would escape from the pitcher's mouth, but he did nothing to push
Miyuki off of him. So Miyuki would continue to tantalize, taking Sawamura's
hard cock out of his pants and offering up a few light sucks, all the while
holding down those eager hips. He would move on to alternate that with a few
swipes of his tongue to Sawamura's slit--that had gotten the pitcher to pant
heavily, moaning Miyuki's name, hips almost trembling under his firm grasp.
All in all, there had been plenty of touching, licking, grasping, kneading. Yet
it had all been with their clothes on, resorting to pushing up t-shirts and
unbuttoning pants. But now they were at the point where both of them wanted
more, to give themselves up completely to the other. One night, while Kuramochi
snored loudly on his bed above them, they had researched ways and positions for
sex. Sawamura had reddened at a few, even completely exiting out of a few
pages. There were just some positions where he could not picture himself
contouring his body in this way or that. But Miyuki had paid special attention
to the rudimentaries--preparation that he would need to perform, making sure
his partner was comfortable.
They didn't really have a set date for their first time together, their first
time with anyone. But the longer they put it off, the more intense their
touches became. The deeper their kisses got, the more desperately they pushed
up against each other. Even during practice, the air between them seemed
hotter, ripe with desire.
So Sawamura, feeling the potency continue to grow each day, had taken it upon
himself to visit the drugstore the previous weekend. He had pounced
triumphantly onto Miyuki's bed when he returned, removing a smuggled plastic
bag from underneath his hoodie.
"I did it!"
"Did what?" Miyuki smiled at his boyfriend's beaming expression, knowing there
was no coming back from the depth of feelings he felt for the pitcher. He
briefly wondered if it were at all humanly possible for someone to adore
someone more than he did Sawamura Eijun.
Sawamura looked around warily, even though he already knew they were alone in
Miyuki's room. "I got . . . the condoms," he said in a stage whisper, leaning
forward and upending the plastic bag so that his purchase fell onto the cotton
comforter.
Miyuki bit his lip as he saw the box. He would not laugh. Sawamura had tried.

"Eijun."
"Yeah?" Sawamura was now bouncing up and down lightly on the bed, thrilled with
himself.
"I'm not so sure that those will . . . work."
Sawamura frowned. "Why not?"
"Um well . . . uh . . . I'm thinking that 'extra large' is a bit too . . .
large."
"But Miyuki, either way, it'll still fit, right? And besides, I've seen it.
It's pretty large, you know."
The catcher smiled indulgently. He spent a couple minutes explaining just why
those particular condoms would make things difficult. Sawamura's eyes widened
with this new information, his mouth forming an "o" as he thought things over.
"Hmm," Sawamura concluded, shrugging. "Maybe I'll go back in a few days, then,
and buy a different kind."
Miyuki Kazuya loved Sawamura Eijun tremendously. There was never any
complicated back and forth between them, or petty jealousies. Because Sawamura
always said what was on his mind, 100% of the time, not feeling the need to
censor his thoughts. And he never lied. To know someone of such pure spirit was
completely eye-opening for the catcher, having never really encountered someone
like Sawamura before. Because for Miyuki, his position necessitated planning,
strategy, and at times, deception on the field. Being a catcher played to his
natural strengths and abilities. So to see someone like Sawamura who loved him
completely and without reservations was incredibly refreshing. The pitcher
never seemed to stop and consider, "Why do I care for this guy so much?"
Because to Sawamura, it didn't matter.
On some days, he still found it hard to believe that the pitcher could put up
with his witty sarcasm and his predisposition to overthink things. Yet Sawamura
endured, though there were days they would playfully squabble on and off the
field. But maybe, in a case such as this, Miyuki would insist on making the
next purchase at the drugstore. To kind of limit the possibility of things
going awry later on. He had done his own research on what they would need,
including reading reviews on various condoms and lubricants. If he gave in to
Sawamura going back for different products, who knows what he would come back
with. Maybe something flavored this time. Miyuki wasn't quite ready for that.
"It's my turn," Miyuki had said, lacing his fingers through Sawamura's firmly,
"I have to pick up some other things, anyways."
Sawamura had relented, hmming happily as their lips joined together for the
first time of many that particular night. Both of them were content in the
knowledge that soon they would be joined in other ways, as well.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Sawamura and Miyuki have sex.
     :)
Chapter Notes
     SO CHALLENGING TO WRITEEEEEE! I can't look at this anymore!
     But I hope you enjoy it!
     *presses 'post' and runs away*
See the end of the chapter for more notes
After Kuramochi left, silence descended into the room. Sawamura was casually
leaning against the bunk bed frame, his golden-brown eyes fixed thoughtfully on
Miyuki. But the catcher wasn't looking at him, now that they were alone.
Instead, he chose to take his time with locking the door and then removing his
shoes and hoodie. Something seemed to be weighing on his mind. Sawamura saw
this, having learned to read Miyuki by now, the subtleties and nuances of his
mannerisms that revealed the feelings he often tried to keep tucked away.
"Hey," Sawamura said softly, stepping towards Miyuki. "Everything okay?" He
laid a hand on the catcher's shoulder, letting his hand rub gently down the
length of his arm.
Miyuki turned then, a small smile on his face. "Yeah. Yes. I am okay." He
shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Sawamura looked at him
doubtfully, considering.
"Kazuya? Are you having second thoughts? Because you know we don't have to do
this--"
"No! No." Miyuki sighed, now running a hand through his hair. "I definitely
want to do this. I've been thinking about it a lot." He smiled ruefully,
watching as Sawamura's cheeks reddened slightly at the thought of Miyuki's mind
wandering to visions of the two of them kissing and touching. And then moving
beyond that.
"Then what is it?" Sawamura linked their fingers together, taking a step
closer, invading Miyuki's space.
"I just . . . I don't want to hurt you. Or do it wrong. I would absolutely hate
that, and maybe you would never want me to touch you like that again--" the
words came out in a sudden tumble, and Sawamura wondered if Miyuki had been
carrying this weight around with him all week.
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Sawamura leaned in even closer to Miyuki, a tender sort of
protectiveness rising in him at seeing the worry clearly written all over his
boyfriend's face. This was the side of Miyuki that people often didn't get to
see--his vulnerabilities on display. When the catcher felt worries bog him
down, he often internalized the issue, mulling it over in his mind rather than
voice his thoughts to a friend or teammate. Not for the first time, he wished
that Miyuki would tell him sooner and more often when something was bothering
him, so that he could help. Yet it was easier said than done--something that
was effortless to Sawamura was not the same to Miyuki. But Sawamura, with his
bright nature and innate affections, had dug himself a place in Miyuki's heart.
And once comfortably settled, there was no way to force him out. So over time,
Miyuki had come to see this, slowly beginning to share his concerns with the
pitcher, trusting him with what was stressing him.
"First off, you're not going to hurt me."
"How can you be so sure?" Miyuki asked quietly, his voice almost a croak. His
eyes were hidden, head inclined down and the fall of his chestnut hair between
the two of them.
"Because you worry more than anybody I've ever known," Sawamura said firmly,
squeezing his boyfriend's hand. "You can't fall asleep sometimes because you're
too busy thinking of new plays and formations and pitches. And with this, I'm
sure, absolutely sure, you've considered everything. Read up on it. It's going
to be fine."
Miyuki nodded, his light brown eyes now meeting Sawamura's, a cautious hope
brightening them . "And second," Sawamura continued, a playful smile on his
face but voice a little deeper, "there's nothing you can do that would ever
make me not want you to touch me. Nothing."
The catcher breathed out slowly, reassured. It was amazing to him that so many
people, himself included at one point, might simply dismiss Sawamura as being
oblivious to the world around him. Yet here Sawamura was, gently rubbing lotion
on the figurative sunburn that was Miyuki's worries. A soothing presence.
Knowing that something was wrong with him and knowing instinctively how to make
it better. How could he have so completely misjudged him so many, many months
ago?
Sawamura watched as Miyuki breathed out heavily once more. And then he saw it,
the qualities coming out in Miyuki that made him such a wonderful and strong
catcher and captain. He was now gazing at Sawamura differently, eyes focused.
Worries vanishing and gazing straight ahead on to what was important. In this
case, and in a lot of cases, it was Sawamura. As the moment progressed,
Miyuki's eyes changed, going dark. Becoming heated. Like the consistent and
strong heat of a bonfire, drawing in those that coveted its warmth. And then he
was slowly pulling a very willing Sawamura to him firmly by the hips, joining
their lips together.
Kissing Sawamura was always something special to Miyuki, because Sawamura
always put all of his feelings behind it. When he was excited and still feeling
a rush of energy after a game, he would kiss Miyuki back with a spirited
warmth, their lips moving quickly against each other. Not holding back. When
Sawamura came to Miyuki's room after school and they didn't have practice, they
would kiss slow and sweet, relaxation in the way their lower limbs intertwined
together. Fitting perfectly together like two puzzle pieces. When Miyuki
explained to Sawamura why a pitch was too high or too outside and what he could
do to remedy that, Sawamura would hmph and look out the bus window. He would
hear "Miyuki Kazuya" being muttered in an undertone. Then a minute later
Sawamura would turn and peck him softly on the cheek. His own cheeks flushed
with the gesture but still pretending to act stubborn. Because he was not able
to remain upset at Miyuki for longer than the span of a few minutes. Or when
they would return to the dorms after a date, they wouldn't be ready to go their
separate ways, and they would kiss just outside of one of their rooms. And it
would be all heat, their fingers traveling under the other's shirt and grasping
desperately onto the skin there, leaving them both panting against each other's
mouths and wanting more.
Their current kissing was like the last kind, deep and hard. Yet at the same
time it was somewhat different. They didn't have the impending threat of
unwanted spectators suddenly seeing them making out heavily, forcing them to
worry. Or quickly separate at the sound of a nearby door suddenly opening. Like
the time that Okumura had opened his and Miyuki's dorm room door, frowning
unhappily at the sight of Miyuki and Sawamura intensely rubbing up against each
other. Miyuki had wondered after that day . . . if the other catcher harbored
secret feelings for Sawamura.  But then he figured it didn't matter.  Because
Sawamura wanted Miyuki, was the one kissing the captain soundly.  The knowledge
of where they both wanted this to lead made each kiss that much more
meaningful, more intense.
Miyuki's hands were now snaking down Sawamura's back unhurriedly, his fingers
digging into his well-formed posterior. Sometimes Miyuki caught himself
unabashedly staring at Sawamura's ass as the energetic pitcher led the way onto
the field, and it would earn him an elbow and an eye roll from Kuramochi. He
definitely had some sort of . . . thing . . . for Sawamura's ass, not able to
hold back from sliding his palm against it when nobody was looking, earning him
a fiery gaze from his boyfriend.
He alternated between pressing his palms down onto the soft fabric of his
boyfriend's gray lounge pants and applying pressure with his fingertips, just
under the curve of his ass. The force of it brought Sawamura even closer to
Miyuki's body, nothing separating their chests from rubbing against each other
as they kissed passionately. Sawamura responded to this new development with a
small groan, his tongue pressing hard, forcefully, into Miyuki's mouth. When he
found the catcher's tongue, he pushed against it, showing that he too could be
just as demanding with what he liked and wanted. He pulled back a moment after
that, taking Miyuki's bottom lip into his mouth, sucking lightly on it. It did
wonderfully tingly things to Miyuki's body, the way Sawamura was so good with
his tongue, his mouth. And he wanted more.
They continued kissing deeply, lips parting for each other, each making small
noises of contentment. Miyuki decided to move things forward. He inserted a
thigh between both of Sawamura's, feeling the beginning of an arousal there.
When he began to press into his boyfriend, this time Sawamura leaned his head
back, his golden-brown eyes molten as he stared at Miyuki.
Miyuki returned his heated gaze, pressing into him again slowly, exacting more
pressure this time, his hands still pressing into Sawamura's ass. The pitcher
exhaled shakily, his eyes almost closing. But then he suddenly moved forward
with deliberation. One hand was suddenly yanking on Miyuki's brown hair while
Sawamura's teeth sank lightly into the exposed skin at the base of his neck.
This time it was Miyuki groaning, enjoying the sensation of Sawamura latching
on to him and feeling the sharpness of teeth biting into him. He felt his chest
expanding with the force of his pleasure as Sawamura began to suck at his
chosen spot, his beautiful pitching fingers maintaining a good grip in Miyuki's
chestnut hair. Sawamura finally detached himself from Miyuki's neck, licking at
the bruise that was just beginning to bloom under skin that was no longer pale.
As if he were taking in the last remains of cake batter on his tongue, tasting
a delectable sweetness. Feeling Sawamura begin to press his own thigh into him
now in response, Miyuki abruptly lifted him from the back of his thighs,
setting him on a nearby dresser.
Sawamura settled on the edge with a soft "oomph" and then they were reaching
for each other again, the pitcher's thighs widening enough to bring Miyuki
closer. They kissed lightly now, their tempo gradually slowing but needy hands
roaming all over. First on the back of a neck or fingers yanking lightly on the
ends of hair. Heat gathered between them and boiled over, both of them desiring
more.
Sawamura was the first to pull back, tugging on the bottom of Miyuki's t-shirt.
"What is it?" Miyuki asked, kissing Sawamura's forehead lightly, reaching up a
hand to push brown hair away from golden-brown eyes. Goddamn, he's beautiful,
Miyuki thought.
"I want to take this off," Sawamura said staunchly, his statement accentuated
with another tug.
"Okay."
As soon as the word was out of Miyuki's mouth, Sawamura's other hand joined the
first, and then the cottony fabric was rising, exposing Miyuki's abdomen. From
his seated position, Sawamura could not reach all the way up to take off the
shirt, and it got momentarily caught on Miyuki's head, his glasses going askew.
Normally such an event would have Sawamura laughing loudly. A chuckle even rose
in his throat but then abruptly it was gone. Because the pitcher's golden-brown
eyes had gone wide at the sight of a now shirtless Miyuki, breath coming
slightly faster now at the fact that they hadn't quite gone this far yet.
A desk lamp on the dresser was lighting up the room in subdued tones of dull
gold. Almost like the illuminative force of a few gathered candles. But on
Miyuki, the light turned his normally pale chest a warm honey hue, and it
captivated Sawamura Eijun as he gazed upon flawless skin.
Sawamura raised his left hand slowly, placing it flat against the well-defined
plane of Miyuki's abdomen. He held it there for a moment, feeling Miyuki push
into his touch slightly. Wanting Sawamura to explore him just as badly as
Sawamura wanted to touch him. Somewhat unsteadily, but with full resolution,
Sawamura worked his hand slowly up and across Miyuki's chest, feeling the lean
musculature under his palm. He stopped his wandering appendage directly over
Miyuki's right nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. So he took it between
two of his fingers, gently plucking at it. At this gesture, Miyuki pressed the
rest of his body against Sawamura, the catcher's legs coming into contact with
the wooden drawers of the dresser. Sawamura looked up at Miyuki. His normally
brown eyes now looked amber in the light of the room, everything about the
catcher becoming slightly warmer in Sawamura's eyes. As if it were no longer a
cool fall night but a warm summer day.
Sawamura didn't try to rationalize his physiological response to what he was
currently looking at. How he suddenly wanted to slide off the dresser and have
Miyuki hold him close. Because of course he had seen Miyuki shirtless before.
Multiple times the catcher had changed in front of him and others in the locker
room, even with most of the team present. Not to mention the handful of times,
when alone with the catcher, that Sawamura had crawled on top of Miyuki,
pushing his shirt up and eyeballing his lean physique. Leaving traces of saliva
down his body as a result of over-eager kisses.
But this was different. This was Miyuki in the light of the lamp, on full
display in front of him. Incredibly beautiful with the angle of his strong jaw
and the shape of his lips. The cut of his lean musculature, hard under
Sawamura's wandering and rough fingertips. This was Miyuki looking at him with
those eyes again, all heat and desire. Never wavering. Strong with purpose.
There was suddenly a lump in Sawamura's throat, and it seemed hard to breathe
around it. Because the reality of what they were doing, what they were going to
be doing shortly, hit home to him like a Miyuki Kazuya line drive home run to
right-center field. It was almost staggering in its power, how hard it hit
Sawamura then. Because he realized the gravity of the fact that . . .he was
about to have sex with Miyuki Kazuya.
It was with a clear sense of conviction and a coiled heat in his lower abdomen
that Sawamura Eijun reached for Miyuki in that moment. He wanted this, and he
wanted it now. His arms winded around angular hips, face tilting up, reaching
determinedly for Miyuki's smooth lips. The pitcher peppered light kisses along
Miyuki's jaw, trailing down his neck. Pulling Miyuki closer, Sawamura mouthed a
hard nipple, rolling it around with the tip of his tongue.
"You're teasing me," Miyuki whispered, his own hands gripping at Sawamura's
hips. Sawamura hmmed in apparent agreement, taking the hard flesh into his
mouth, sucking at it.
There was the sound of Miyuki exhaling sharply, fingers almost a vise on
Samura's sides.
"Fuck," Miyuki breathed out shakily. He could hear Sawamura's mouth working
eagerly on his chest, an absurdly erotic suckling sound. The catcher felt his
cock press uncomfortably hard against the front of his jeans, Sawamura's
fearless attentions making it so. And he felt an uncontrollable urge to lift
his boyfriend off of the dresser and toss him on his bed, taking his own turn
at pleasuring him.
But Sawamura interrupted that thought as his hands began working at Miyuki's
belt. He made quick work of the black leather and metal buckle, letting both
ends hang freely. Slowly, and with a bite that was almost painful, Sawamura
detached himself from Miyuki's chest. With a question in his eyes, he peered at
Miyuki from behind strands of unruly brown hair.
"Can I?" he asked, hands lightly touching the top of Miyuki's jeans, ready to
work at the button as soon as he was given the go-ahead.
The way they explored each other had often been like this. At first a meeting
of their lips, energy quickly escalating between them like a churning sea,
waves frothy with the force of a storm. But then Sawamura was usually the one
to branch out first, wanting to try something new. Like straddling Miyuki and
working his hips into him. Or kissing Miyuki in a sensitive place, letting his
lips linger over his goosebumped skin. He was always fearless, going after he
wanted. But making sure all the time that Miyuki was comfortable with it.
Though there had never been a time that Miyuki had disliked something Sawamura
had tried, not even close.
But after a while Miyuki would be the one rolling Sawamura on his back, holding
him down by his biceps. Or the one working a hand into Sawamura's boxers to the
hard cock that awaited him there. There was always a natural back and forth
with their physical interaction, a balance of give and receive. So while
Sawamura might be the one initially pushing things forward, Miyuki was sure to
be the one to continue their terminal velocity.
"Yes," Miyuki breathed out, quite eager himself to continue. Sawamura smiled
slowly then, keeping his eyes fixed on Miyuki's face as he unbuttoned the
jeans. With the smallest amount of friction, Sawamura pushed against the
fabric, letting gravity take the jeans to the floor.
They were now wading even farther into unchartered territory, having never
removed a shirt or pants before in front of each other like this. Miyuki knew
it, and Sawamura seemed to know it too, based on the redness gathering on his
cheeks. For a moment, the pitcher kept his gaze steady on Miyuki's face. But
then Sawamura slowly lowered his eyes, rough hands clasped onto Miyuki's hips.
Sawamura Eijun breathed out slowly, heat flowing steadily through his body at
the sight of Miyuki's erection. It protruded outward from Miyuki's groin,
jutting into the wide gap between Sawamura's thighs. Miyuki's dark red boxer
briefs didn't hide the damp spot on the fabric, the beginnings of pre-come
gathering.
With a firm hand, Sawamura placed his palm onto Miyuki's hard cock, pressing it
slightly back towards the catcher's leanly muscles thighs. Miyuki moaned, the
end of which escaped from his mouth like the emission of gas from a volcano.
Just beginning to quake under the surface, signs of an impending eruption.
"Eijun . . . " Miyuki murmured, eyes almost sliding closed. "That feels so . .
. so . . . good. You make me feel good."
Hearing Miyuki's praise, and eager to continue, Sawamura slid his palm up and
down the length of Miyuki's housed erection, touching his lips lightly to
Miyuki's. He felt a deep sense of sensual satisfaction at hearing another soft
moan emanate from the depths of Miyuki's throat, and it made him harder. No
longer could he hide his own arousal from the catcher, nor did he want to. He
slid off of the dresser, Miyuki's hands steadying him.
"I want to see you without these on," Sawamura murmured into Miyuki's ear, now
tugging on his boyfriend's boxer briefs. As always, he spoke forthrightly about
what he wanted, not holding back.
"Take off your shirt, first."
Without a moment's hesitation, Sawamura shed his hot skin of its restrictive t-
shirt, letting it drop carelessly to the floor next to Miyuki's discarded
jeans. Miyuki's amber eyes fixed on Sawamaura's chest, hands curling under his
boyfriend's arms. Having created a hold of sorts, Miyuki's lips dipped down to
the pitcher's pale skin, pressing fleeting kisses against the warm flesh.
"Unghhh, Miyuki . . . " Sawamura moaned, shifting in his arms.
And now it was Miyuki's turn to explore Sawamura's upper body, breath hot on
already heated skin. The catcher pressed himself flush against Sawamura, their
twin hard ons rubbing against each other in a immeasurably pleasing way. He
rained kissed down the length of Sawamura's neck, bringing the skin in gently
between his lips before moving back up. The taste of Sawamura's skin was
somehow unique on his tongue, and he couldn't help but crave more of it.
Their kissing took on a more feverish quality, mouths moving quickly against
each other. They hadn't quite experienced kissing like this before, always
reining it in before it approached this kind of fervor. But now there wasn't
anything to hold them back, so both of their mouths were open as their lips met
again and again, tongues touching. Miyuki relished each of Sawamura's moans,
which seemed to be growing in number and volume. Again, the catcher found
himself appreciating the way that Sawamura never held back who he was,
fearlessly plowing ahead through each of life's challenges . . . and rewards.
Miyuki couldn't help it any longer, finding that his hips, his body, had a mind
of its own. His lower body began moving forward in a slow rhythym into
Sawamura's hand, which still firmly encased his aroused cock. Sawamura, being
the bold and beautiful boy that he always was, slid his hand up and then into
Miyuki's boxer briefs. He firmly gripped Miyuki's cock, beginning to slowly
stroke him up and down, tonguing into his mouth ardently. The sensation of
Sawamura's hand on him was almost too much. Miyuki found his fingers digging
into Sawamura's shoulders without conscious thought.
"Come--come here," Miyuki mumbled, though Sawamura was as close as he possibly
could get. Yet that didn't stop Miyuki from trying to pull him closer. The
catcher's hands fell in front of Sawamura's body, lightly tugging on the
drawstring of his pajama pants. A second was all it took to untie them, and
then he was pulling them down gently. And then both of them were just as
unclothed as the other, only their underwear remaining to be taken off.
Without even saying a word, their lips rejoined, pressing hard against each
other once more. Miyuki felt the warmth of Sawamura's bare chest against his,
their legs intertwined below. He could feel Sawamura's rigid cock against his,
rubbing up against his own as they kissed.
And then Miyuki started rocking his hips into Sawamura's. The dresser behind
the pitcher hit the wall with a scraping cracking noise as the force of his hip
movement pushed Sawamura back against the piece of furniture. They began to rut
into each other in earnest now, breath heavy as they kissed. Moans now littered
the air with each thrust against each other. His blood burning through the
paths that were his veins, Miyuki reached into Sawamura's boxers. He got a good
grip on his hard cock, thumbing at the wet slit. In front of him, Sawamura's
breath stuttered. Miyuki smiled into the next kiss, working his hand in a firm
grip down to the shaft. The insistent movement of his wrist forced the fabric
of the boxers lower on Sawamura's hips. With their legs interwined and bodies
as close as they could get, Miyuki pulled slightly at his own boxer briefs,
baring his hard cock. He wrapped his hand around their erections, slowly
stroking them together. A keening whine escaped from Sawamura's mouth, his
short fingernails raking down Miyuki's bare back.

The all-encompassing feeling of Miyuki stroking both of their cocks together
was slowly unraveling Sawamura's composure. They weren't even kissing anymore,
their open mouths hovering a couple of inches apart. The pitcher began to work
his hips up and into Miyuki's grip, his breath a warm pant on Miyuki's face. It
was no less a momentous feeling for Miyuki who had to lean his forehead against
Sawamura's, feeling his toes curl into the carpet. It felt oh so fucking good.

"Unghh . . . Kazuya . . ." Sawamura mumbled some time later, all ten fingers
finding different places on Miyuki's back to bear down on. He felt Miyuki's
spare arm wind around his back, holding him close. Protective in their intimate
embrace.

"What--what is it, Eijun?"

"I want to . . .I want . . . "

"Hmmm, what is it baby?"

Eijun shivered. Miyuki had never called him that before, and the sound of the
catcher's low voice made him tremble. It was so deep, so primal in its need and
attentiveness that Sawamura forgot what he was trying to ask for a minute.

"Eijun." Miyuki stroked their cocks together in an agonizingly slow rhythym. He
moved his lips to Sawamura's shoulder, pressing down for a brief moment before
speaking. "What is it you want?"

Sawamura had no voice to answer with. So he placed both palms on Miyuki's
chest, pushing against him slightly. Miyuki moved back half a step, hand trying
to maintain its grip on Sawamura's dick, loath to part with it. But then he saw
that Sawamura was kneeling in front of him, his eyes now scorchingly hot. The
pitcher used one hand to pull Miyuki's boxer briefs down, casting them aside
after the catcher stepped out of them. Trying in vain to compose himself,
Sawamura raised himself on his knees slightly to be at eye level with Miyuki's
flushed cock. And then the pitcher realized that Miyuki was completely naked in
front of him for the very first time. The realization hit at him again, how far
they were taking this. He gazed up at Miyuki for a short moment, seeing glowing
amber eyes staring back at him, words insufficient to explain how they were
feeling. And then Sawamura got a full look at Miyuki's body, the way his
muscular shoulders gave way to developed biceps and the outline of muscles in
his strong forearms. The pitcher swallowed heavily, eyes traveling down
Miyuki's defined pectorals to his stomach. Sawamura had tongued the muscles
there before, tracing a pattern around his abs, pausing to blow on the trail of
saliva he had left behind. His golden-brown eyes almost, almost, became bashful
as he considered the "v" shape that was the junction of Miyuki's thighs and
abdomen. But he was beyond that, heated to a rolling boil.

Without any apprehensions, Sawamura slid a warm palm up Miyuki's thigh,
slightly squeezing at the muscle. And then he moved his head slowly forward,
mouth tilting to take in Miyuki's cock between his parted lips. The pitcher
heard a deep groan from above, but he kept his eyes fixed on the task at hand,
wanting nothing more than to please his boyfriend. They had, of course, done
this kind of thing before on a handful of occasions. So Sawamura knew how best
to elicit a reaction from Miyuki. Which he began to do with teasing sucks at
the head of Miyuki's cock. Sawamura felt his own clothed cock rubbing up
against the fabric of his boxers and twitching as he tongued at Miyuki's slit.

"Ah, god, Eijun," Miyuki groaned, a hand sliding through Sawamura's hair,
combing between thick strands of hair. "Fuck."
Sawamura saw Miyuki's thigh muscles flexing involuntarily and it motivated him
even more to pleasure his boyfriend. Pursing his lips, he began to suck at the
head harder now, then pulling lightly back on it eagerly. Miyuki's hand now
clenched in his hair, his breath almost heaving as Sawamura worked on him. So
the pitcher changed angles slightly, Miyuki's hard cock poking into the side of
his mouth, encountering resistance as he worked it back and forth.
"Oh, fuck." Miyuki's hips were now moving the slightest bit back and forth,
fucking into the motion of Sawamura's mouth. He couldn't help it, so good did
Sawamura's tight lips feel against him. Below, the pitcher was working over his
cock like it was a succulent treat, too sweet to part with. And then the
catcher watched wide-eyed as Sawamura worked his mouth deeper onto the length
of his erection, sucking back on it enthusiastically. Fuck. If he didn't put a
halt to it, he would come. And come soon.
"Eijun." Miyuki stroked his boyfriend's flushed cheek, thumb gently sliding
over the side of Sawamura's mouth.
"Hmm?" The vibration worked its way through his cock, into the depths of his
groin. FUCK.

"I want you. On the bed."

Sawamura hmmed again in acknowledgement of what Miyuki had said, but continued
to work at his cock, tongue swirling slowly around the head. Miyuki pressed a
firm hand onto his boyfriend's shoulder, moving back slowly. Sawamura was
becoming too good at sucking his dick. He never thought it would be possible
for him to think that.

"Eijun, come here."

Sawamura wiped at his mouth with the back of his arm, wiping off the saliva
that had gathered during his enthusiastic endeavor. He grabbed onto the hand
that Miyuki offered, rising to his feet. Without another word, the catcher
pushed down on Sawamura's boxers, letting them fall to the ground. And then
they were both fully naked, both sets of eyes considering each other's bare
body, hands freely wandering.

Miyuki wanted to grip at Sawamura's cock again, working him over at a quicker
pace now, matching his own enthusiasm. But no. They had crafted this night
together to move beyond that, in order to explore the depths of their
relationship. So he breathed out slowly once, before tugging onto rough
fingertips, pulling his boyfriend towards his own bed.

The pitcher tumbled onto the top of his comforter, erect cock bobbing in front
of him, striking his abdomen. Miyuki's breath caught for a moment, ready. So
fucking ready. He had never wanted to act in so many different ways at once,
and his thoughts spun around his head at the possibilities. He wanted to rub
their cocks against each other again, wanted to engulf Sawamura's dick in his
mouth and show the pitcher how much he loved giving him head too, wanted to
lick him propietarily all over, fingers beginning to roam freely into his ass.

He quickly retrieved a couple of items from the pockets of his long-discarded
hoodie, setting them beside Sawamura on the bed.

"Come here," Sawamura whined, hands extending out, wanting to reunite his body
with Miyuki's.
Miyuki slowly lowered himself onto Sawamura's bed, his body framing the
pitcher's. Sawamura's breathing was labored, eyes wide as he caught Miyuki's
gaze. Their legs became entangled, Miyuki's upper thigh pressing onto
Sawamura's erection. It was all too much and not enough for both of them at the
same time. Sawamura wrapped his arms around Miyuki with a sudden desperation.
They began kissing again, both of their lower bodies pressing into each other,
hot skin on hot skin. It was as if they knew what was coming, simultaneously
welcoming it and not knowing how to proceed. Their soft moans filled the air
around them once more. And it just wasn't enough.
"Kaz--Kazuya," Sawmura groaned, his fingers pressing into the warm skin of
Miyuki's lower back. "Please. I want you."
Miyuki Kazuya pulled back at that moment, hearing the utter need in his
boyfriend's voice. He felt the heat of arousal pumping through each part of his
body, wanting and demanding more. But then he met Sawamura's gaze, his golden-
brown eyes so warm and loving, full of trust. This boy--this completely
beautiful boy. Sawamura Eijun. Miyuki cherished him, accepting him for any and
all shortcomings he had. He wholeheartedly gave the younger boy his heart.
Miyuki had come to care for Sawamura so much that he felt it deeply within
himself, as if he was a planet orbiting the much brighter sun. So entwined into
who he was that he could fight off the baser instincts of his body, to stop for
a moment and revere each individual and unique aspect of his boyfriend. The
tangible and intangible. He felt himself tremble on top of Sawamura at that
heady rush of admiration and emotion.
Somehow their hands became joined, fingers linked together. Miyuki's breathing
slowed down. He leaned down, kissing Sawamura softly once, twice. And in those
golden-brown eyes opposite him was held immeasurable amounts of intimacy and
affection. It almost overwhelmed him at that moment, seeing how much Sawamura
loved him back, that someone could come to hold him in such high esteem. He had
known, of course, the extent of his own feelings for some time. But it hit home
to him in that very moment just how much Sawamura Eijun had come to love him
right back.
The realization created a constricting sensation in his throat, burning at his
nose. His eyes felt strange then, suddenly heavy and full. And then he realized
that he was overcome for his emotions for Sawamura. What they were about to do
together was momentous. It was not everyday that you gave your heart and body
completely over to somehow else for safekeeping. The feeling knocked him over
like the ocean at full tide.
Sawamura's voice was tentative as he caressed Miyuki's cheek softly. "Kazuya?
What is it? Are you . . . okay?"
Mikyuki turned his head to gently kiss the wandering hand. "I just . . . love
you . . . so much." There was an unusual huskiness to his voice as he said it,
revealing the level of his feelings to Sawamura, how serious he was.
Sawamura's eyes widened, and he touched Miyuki's cheek. "I love you too,
Kazuya. You mean everything to me. You know that." Miyuki nodded, kissing his
palm. He did not quite trust his voice in that moment.
Sawamura was still eyeing him, features soft as he continued to caress Miyuki's
cheek. "Kiss me," he commanded.
Miyuki wanted nothing more than to do just that. So he leaned down again,
touching his lips gently against Sawamura's, his mouth parting against equally
eager lips. He felt his boyfriend deepen the intensity of the kiss, pressing
hard against him and wrapping his arms around his neck. The heat began to grow
between them again, Miyuki pressing his thigh down onto Sawamura's erection.
The low whine that Sawamura let loose had Miyuki's hand reaching blindly around
the bed in search of Sawamura's spare pillow. His hand closed around the end of
the pillowcase, so Miyuki pulled back once again.
"This, um . . ." he was sure he was blushing, "this should go under your hips."
"Alright."
Miyuki watched as Sawamura raised his body, pushing the pillow in place under
his slender hips. The catcher's eyes stared a line down the length of
Sawamura's body, taking note of the way his breath rose and fell steadily under
the arc of his ribcage. Noticing that the pitcher had an "outie" for a
bellybutton and it was entirely too precious to see. Eyes continuing their trek
south, he felt lust for Sawamura flow through him at the sight of his erection,
the tip of his hard cock wet and smeared with pre-come due to Miyuki's previous
attentions. FUCK.
Miyuki now blindly reached for the lubricant that he had already set beside
Sawamura, so turned on by the sight of his fully hard cock that he was unable
to look away. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Sawamura's fingers curling
into his comforter. He breathed out deeply, slowly, flipping open the lid of
the lube. And then he was applying it to his fingers, trying to calm himself
down. He could do this, he would do this right.
Some worry must have been apparent on his face, for Sawamura placed a hand on
Miyuki's knee that was closest to him. "You're not going to hurt me," he
whispered.
Miyuki nodded, moving slightly so that he was now in-between Sawamura's knees.
He gently pushed them further apart with his dry hand, then slowly inserted his
pointer finger into Sawamura's entrance. The catcher felt his partner tense at
the foreign sensation, brows knitting slightly. So Miyuki placed his free palm
onto Sawamura's stomach. Gently, he massaged soothing circles onto his skin.
And then he was pushing in farther, amazed by how tight Sawamura was just
around one of his fingers, the warmth that surrounded his digit. He could only
imagine what it would feel like on his cock.
The catcher worked diligently in Sawamura for a moment, exploring him slowly.
Sawamura moaned slightly on his back, fingers still curled into his comforter,
keeping his warm eyes fixed on Miyuki the entire time. And then he was
inserting a second lubricated finger, scissoring them gently inside. Sawamura
began to pant at the sensation, jaw clenched.
"Does it hurt?" Miyuki asked worriedly.
"No--no. It feels . . . different. In a good way," Sawamura insisted between
breaths. The pitcher placed his now sweaty palm on top of the one that Miyuki
was still using to massage Sawamura's abdomen. "Keep--ah, that, yes that!"
Miyuki had pushed farther into Sawamura, growing more daring at Sawamura's
assurance that he was okay. Clearly, he had reached his boyfriend's prostate.
Evident in the way that Sawamura was now working into his hand, fingernails
curling into Miyuki's skin.
"Hnghhh!" Sawamura's eyes were now closed, mouth gaping wide open as he worked
his hips again and again into Miyuki's wandering fingers. "Kazuya, ahhh, nhhh!"
Sawamura was now groaning heavily, his breath following no particular pattern.
Miyuki had never seen his boyfriend come undone in such a way before, and he
ached to be inside of Sawamura. He was so completely beautiful, the front of
his hair now sweaty and slightly sticking to his forehead. Golden-brown eyes
warm. Face clenched in pleasure. His back arching off the bed as he rutted into
Miyuki's hand. The catcher moved his hand out from underneath Sawamura's,
beginning to stroke at the pitcher's cock, hard in his grip. Slightly slippery
from the amount of pre-come that had long since begun to leak out of the tip.
"You're so beautiful," Miyuki murmured. Sawamura moaned deeply, eyes catching
and holding Miyuki's.
"I--I won't--I'll come soon if you keep doing that," Sawamura huffed out.
"Please now. I want you in me."
This time, Miyuki forced himself to look away. Otherwise, he was sure that he
wouldn't be able to control himself, and just a few pulls on his own cock would
have him coming all over himself and Sawamura. It was the last thing he wanted.
He pulled back his previously occupied fingers, his other hand reaching for the
condom. Digits trembling and still slick with lube, he ripped open the package.
And then the rubber was in-between his fingers. Carefully, he slipped on the
condom, making sure to unroll it all the way down. More lube was squirted onto
his fingers, and he spread it down the length of his covered cock.
"C'mere," Sawamura whispered, reaching for Miyuki impatiently. "Kiss me first."
Miyuki leaned over Sawamura, palms down on the comforter as he joined his lips
to his boyfriend's. Their kiss was achingly slow, lips parting for each other.
He felt his cock brush up against Sawamura's, and he felt himself eager to
continue what they had started. So Miyuki worked his way down, leaving light
kisses on the surface of Sawamura's skin. He was between the pitcher's thighs
again, admiring the leanly muscled legs. Legs that he had seen from almost
every angle possible, legs that he could spend hours massaging, admiring,
worshipping.
Slowly, he guided his cock towards Sawamura's entrance, beginning to push in oh
so carefully. Sawamura tensed up below him momentarily, but then he was
breathing out, relaxing his muscles. The pitcher reached for Miyuki's free
hand, needing the attachment. A familiar and loving gesture in the middle of
something that was wholly unprecedented for either of them. Miyuki pulled out
and then pushed himself further in, his hips repeating the movement until he
was all the way in.
"Eijun . . . " Miyuki said brokenly, trying not to move until Sawamura was
ready. He was trembling again fromt he effort it took to hold back. "Oh god,
you feel so good. I love you, Eijun I love you."
"Kazuya . . .mmmm . . . I love you too," Sawamura said softly, hand gripping
Miyuki's tightly. "Move. You've got to move now."
Miyuki began to rock his hips back and forth steadily, trying his best to gauge
whether or not Sawamura was uncomfortable or not. The pitcher had wrapped his
legs around Miyuki at some point, and he cradled the backs of Sawamura's knees,
now feeling himself come undone. There were so many sensations to feel all at
once, it was almost blinding. There was the sound of their panting in the air
between them as Miyuki continued to thrust into Sawamura. The pitcher's slack
face as he relaxed his lean body, letting Miyuki initially lead the way. The
smell of their sweat, a thin sheen shining on the surface of their skin. The
taste of warm lips against each other. But for Miyuki, the most prevalent
sensation was the feel of his cock buried deep inside of Sawamura, his ass
tight and hot around him.
Sawamura's legs started to slip from around Miyuki's rhythmically thrusting
hips. Both of them were sweaty and their skin slippery from their continued
physical synergy. The first couple of times it happened, Sawamura hoisted his
legs back up onto Miyuki's hips, only to have them fall down shortly
afterwards. It might have been partially due to the fact that his focus wasn't
totally on keeping his legs wound around Miyuki, nor could he really be blamed
for it. With the way the catcher was making him feel as he worked over his
cock, it was no wonder that he had trouble concentrating on his limbs. Yet it
became somewhat of an awkward position for the both of them, as they moved an
arm here or there in order to get more traction or comfort.
"Ka--Kazuya," Sawamura mumbled against Miyuki's lips.
"Yeah baby?"
Sawamura's heart swelled at the term of endearment mentioned again. "Can I . .
. be on top of you?"
Miyuki kissed at his neck, slowing the tempo of his thrusts. "Yes," his voice
quite husky against his skin.
They re-positioned themsleves carefully, Miyuki now the one on his back, eyeing
Sawamura lustfully as the pitcher straddled his lap. Yet there was something
new in the way Sawamura held his body erect on top of him. For maybe the first
time, Miyuki saw Sawamura Eijun nervous, unsure of how to proceed in a given
situation. The expanse of his cheeks was covered in a rosy blush, eyes
purposefully looking anywhere but at Miyuki's face as he took the catcher's
cock in his hand. Miyuki watched Sawamura bite at his lip, his free hand
clenched into a fist.
Miyuki opened his mouth to speak, to offer some calming words. But, as usual,
Sawamura was moving forward without fear. He pushed up on his thighs, moving
Miyuki's cock into position. And then he was carefully shifting down, eyes no
longer avoiding the catcher's. Confident in what he was doing.
Miyuki felt a surge of love for his boyfriend, proud that he knew how best to
guide himself when unsure of which direction to take. But a quick moment later,
all he could think about was how fucking good it felt to be buried back inside
of Sawamura. Engulfed in the heat of him.
Yet it seemed to get even better from there. Because with a low keening whine,
Sawamura used his strong thighs to lift himself up and then back down, creating
an amazing level of friction on his cock. Miyuki watched as the muscles
contracted and then relaxed with the consistent up and down movement, and he
placed his hands lightly onto each leg, feeling them flex under his palm.
Instinctively, he began to work his hips up and into Sawamura when he moved
down, the two of them communicating without words.
His eyes panned up to Sawamura's face, watching as he threw his head back, a
loud groan escaping from his mouth. It all became too much for Miyuki, and he
knew he wasn't going to last much longer. Sawamura felt too good on top of him,
looked incredibly erotic and beautiful perched on his lap. Not to mention how
well he was riding his cock at the moment. He had to do something about that,
and now.
Miyuki grasped onto Sawamura's leaking cock, rotating his wrist as he worked
upwards. He knew, from the many times that he had had his hand on Sawamura's
cock, how best the pitcher liked to be touched. So he began with a steady pace,
slowly increasing the speed at which he stroked him. Sawamura started moaning
incoherent words, some of which sounded very much like Miyuki's name. He
shifted on top of Miyuki on the next pass down, but then something changed.
Miyuki didn't know if it was intentional or not, but suddenly Sawamura was
clenching his muscles on and around Miyuki's cock, and he was done for.
He felt himself come, toes digging into the comforter, fingers digging into
Sawamura's thighs. His breath was a jagged stutter. "Fuck, Eijun," he groaned,
feeling the pulse of his come in Sawamura's ass. The pitcher continued to ride
him, working the rest out of him. It was the most powerfully vibrant orgasm he
had ever had, and it took him a moment to remember his boyfriend.
Quickly he began to stroke Sawamura again, not holding back now. He was
relentless in his rhythm, watching as Sawamura kept his warm golden-brown eyes
on Miyuki's face. A moment later, his hands now digging into Miyuki's shoulders
and knees clenched into his sides, Sawamura came with a series of low cries. It
spread out over Miyuki's abdomen and chest, and then Sawamura flopped
bonelessly on top of him, careless of the fact that he was now soiling his own
skin.
Both of them needed a moment to catch their breath. Sawamura eventually opened
his bright eyes, languidly taking in how Miyuki was looking just as overcome as
he.
"Kazuya," Sawamura whispered. "Jesus. That was---I don't even know. It was
amazing."
Miyuki smiled affectionately, fingers combing through Sawamura's sweaty locks.
"Yes, it sure was."
Eventually, Sawamura pushed up and off of Miyuki, both of the teenagers coated
in equal amounts of Sawamura's come. The pitcher exhaled loudly as he laid on
his back. He watched as Miyuki deposited the used condom into the trash, then
dug into his hoodie pocket for something. Then the catcher was wiping both of
them off with disposable wipes, proceeding to toss those, too, away into the
garbage.
A few moments later, both of them were snuggled comfortably on the top of the
bed once more, clad in their underwear. Sawamura finger-walked up Miyuki's
chest, his face showing an uncharacteristically shy yet happy smile. There was
also the flush of sexual exertion apparent in the rosy blush of his cheeks,
highlighting the overall tone of hs skin. It was surely the most beautiful
sight that Miyuki Kazuya had ever seen, and he couldn't help but clasp his hand
tightly over Sawamura's wandering one.
"I love you, Eijun," Miyuki said throatily. He curved one of his legs over the
top of Sawamura's, trying to get closer.
"Mmmm. I love you too, Kazuya."
Sawamura lifted his chin, clearly demanding a kiss. Which Miyuki provided, so
soft and caring. He didn't ever want this moment to end, didn't ever want
Sawamura to move away from the touch of his skin on his skin. Sleepily, his arm
tightened around Sawamura as the pair fell into sleep, their energy temporarily
spent. The last thing that Miyuki's mind registered was the soft touch of
Sawamura's lips on his collarbone, the soft mumble of his full name.
 
===============================================================================
 
Sawamura Eijun walked with Haruichi the next morning before their scheduled
afternoon practice. He absolutely could not stop smiling. It was kind of eerie,
to be honest. When Haruichi tried to talk to him about the differences in grips
while swinging, Sawamura merely beamed at his friend. Not managing to hit any
of the practice balls that were eventually sent his way.
Kominato Haruichi smiled knowingly. "Eijun," he said, trying to sound off-hand,
"Kuramochi slept in my room last night."
"Oh--oh?" Sawamura asked, putting away their bats after twenty minutes or so of
working out. "Really?"
"Yeah. He snores a lot."
Sawamura rubbed at the hair at his neck. "Yeah, he's the worst."
The two teenagers headed down to an early lunch. A few members of their team
were already present, working on their own breakfast. Soon enough, Zono and
Furuya were joining them. It totally escaped Sawamura's notice how Furuya
seemed to thoughtfully consider Haruichi, cool blue-grey eyes occasionally
gazing at the second baseman. But then Kuramochi and Miyuki were soon joining
their table, the catcher meeting Sawamura's eyes with a tender warmth. Their
eyes held for a moment, Miyuki's expression telling Sawamura everything he
couldn't put into words right now.
At some point early in the morning when it was still dark outside, Miyuki had
kissed Sawamura lightly awake to tell him that he was going back to his room.
And that he loved him. When the pitcher had woken up some hours later to meet
up with Haruichi, his thoughts were consumed with the events of the previous
night. Miyuki kissing him, Miyuki moving on top of him, Miyuki coming inside of
him. There was an extra level of intimacy to their relationship now, binding
them together even closer.
All around was the sound of their teammates engaging in enthusiastic
conversation with their peers. Sawamura felt the edge of something touch the
skin on his hand. He looked over to see Miyuki forking some eggs into his mouth
as if nothing were amiss. But there was a small piece of paper on the tabletop,
curled under Sawamura's palm. The pitcher warily cast his eyes around the
table, but his companions were consumed with discussing whether or not the way
Takashima Rei had casually laid a hand on their coach's upper arm meant the two
were together or not.
Sawamura carefully pivoted his upper body to the side, toward Miyuki. In his
boyfriend's very neat and precise handwriting, one word was written on the
scrap of loose-leaf paper.
Tonight?
And Sawamura Eijun suddenly grinned, feeling his cheeks suddenly darken with
the heat of a blush, how his heart swelled with affection. Realizing how he
cherished Miyuki Kazuya without reservations or limitations. Treasuring how
just through Miyuki's touch, a simple hand hold or the way the catcher was
curling his foot and ankle around Sawamura's instep under the table, Sawamura
felt on top of the world. And the pitcher realized that he couldn't wait to
experience the feeling of intimate attachment again with Miyuki, how their
bodies became joined and they worked in tandem with each other.
Sawamura lowered a hand below, laying it over Miyuki's knee. He squeezed once,
firmly, giving his answer. Yes. He didn't have to look at the catcher to
vocalize his answer, for Miyuki had come to be able to read Sawamura's body
language as well. Yet he still glanced over anways, seeing how Miyuki had
ducked his head, yet not able to hide the color that had risen in his own
cheeks, the tops of his ears.
The two of them were quieter than usual, and Kuramochi seemed to notice it. For
the shortstop suddenly looked over at them, bemused.
"Why do both of you look so . . . creepy?" he asked, kicking at Sawamura under
the table. "You're up to something again."
Sawamura tried, but not really, to hide his happiness through the cover of
taking in a piece of bacon. It didn't work.
"Forget that I asked. You two are . . . just so . . . "
Neither Sawamura nor Miyuki heard the tail end of Kuramochi's statement,
choosing to define for themselves what they were. So both of them continued to
cherish that moment, how the feeling of complete adoration and love for each
other was woven through their consciousness.
And there would be many more "tonight?" notes written to each other in the
future.
 
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     Hoped you liked this smutty chapter! Writing a 'first time' for two
     characters was actually kind of hard.
     By the way--do you guys have any songs that when you listen to it, it
     instantly makes you think of Miyusawa/Misawa? If so, share! I have a
     couple, and I kinda want to make a playlist for myself. So please
     leave any song recs that you have.
     Also, come visit me on tumblr here! I'm thinking of writing some
     Daiya drabbles here and there. If you ever have a request, send it my
     way. :) I'll try my best to write your prompt!
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