Chapter Text
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When Todoroki Raizō told them he would be their new coach, nobody believed in him. Who would be desperate enough to accept a job coaching their lousy baseball team? He was just some old guy in need for money, someone who accepted the first offer without thinking too much of it. And the first time they saw him, with his tattered clothes, the stubble on his jaw and slippers instead of actual footwear… well, their first impression wasn’t the best. That is, until he appeared, and then Coach Todoroki’s methods started to make sense.
Raichi was something new, something different. He was so shy without a bat on his hands but so powerful with it on them. The first time he tried to speak to him, Raichi blushed, babbled and finally closed his mouth, looking at the ground and using his cap to cover his eyes from Shunpei’s. It was endearing and oh, so funny to watch. The same guy that could lift a bat heavier than the usual with the same facility one could lift a feather was afraid to talk –and even look– at him.
From then on, every time the Coach Todoroki brought his son with him, Shunpei would spend most of the time trying to rile him up enough to talk to him or even just look at him for more than a few seconds. His plans failed for weeks, but in the end, Shunpei got him with the easiest way to a teenage boy’s heart: food.
Since that moment, Raichi slowly started to open to him, smiling and sharing stories (most of them, related to baseball, of course) with childish expressions and sounds, using his body to support what his words couldn’t communicate. They weren’t a battery, weren’t even in the same school at the time, but Raichi was like the first light of the day: bright, almost blinding, full of dreams and a promise of good times.
And now that he has the boy within reach, he finally realises that the fascination he felt back then had nothing to do with childlike curiosity. Or maybe it was at first, but at some point something changed and it wasn’t Raichi ‘the batter who catched his attention as a pitcher’ but Raichi ‘the boy who catched his attention as a teenage, hormonal boy’, instead. It was hard to accept at first: Raichi is not only naïve and innocent, he’s also his friend, his kōhai and, of course, his coach’s son. So yeah, it’s a bad idea to fall for him, whichever way you look at it. But the more time they spend together, the more infatuated he’s with the boy.
Shunpei sighs, tuning out the sound of his teacher’s voice and looking out the window to the football field. Raichi’s class is enjoying the sunny day and using the field instead of the gym, so it’s easy to point him out. He’s the only one alone, playing with his hands as if he didn’t know what to do with them without a bat. It’s a shame that Mishima and Akiba are not in the same class as him, it would make thinks a lot easier for Raichi. He’s been alone for so long, being pitied by so many people and having a life style different from the rest of the kids, centred on baseball and nothing else, that he has closed himself to others. And the fact that he’s only outstanding in baseball and not very good in other sports doesn’t help to his inclusion into the group.
He sees a group of boys laugh while pointing at him, and Shunpei’s blood boils in his veins. The pencil he had been using snaps in half with the force he needs to release in order to not storm out of the class and go punch their faces. He knows Raichi doesn’t care, doesn’t pay attention to it. He’s too much of an idiot to notice, but that makes it even worse, and the whole team would fight those assholes if it weren’t for the possibility of being kicked out of the team (not a very realistic scenario because the coach needs all of them to win, but the school isn’t as permissive with the baseball team as other schools, like Seido).
The bad mood doesn’t leave and stays with him all day, making him moody, a ticking time bomb. His irritation grows exponentially during baseball practice, releasing all his frustration with his pitches, yelling at every teammate that fails to bat his balls (even when he knows, deeply inside, that he’s being awfully unfair, throwing balls that not many people would be able to hit). He growls at the coach and argues with him, something very unusual. He’s been teasing his son as always, the two of them exchanging pitiful insults, but today that’s everything it takes for Shunpei to bite.
He’s ready to start cutting heads right now, right there, but Raichi is in front of him before he even knows it, both hands tightly wrapped around his bat. He’s not afraid of his rage, but Shunpei can tell he’s nervous about the situation, lost because he doesn’t understand why he’s behaving like that when they could be training instead of fighting.
Shunpei looks at his face and turns on his heels. He walks to the locker room without stopping to hear what his teammates and coach try to tell him, focusing only in the beat of his heart and the pace of his steps. One thing is to have a crush on someone and care for them and the other is to go berserker in front of them because you can’t control your feelings. So he’s going to go home and think about everything with calm, far away from everyone else.
And tomorrow he’s going to act like nothing had happened, to keep avoiding acknowledging that his crush is more than that and to be a nice ace for the team.
Of course, the next morning doesn’t go as planned.
Raichi is there before anyone else, sweat already running down his back and making his shirt cling uncomfortably to his body. He’s been waiting for Sanada for at least an hour, but it’s worth it just to see the surprise in the older boy’s face. He knew Sanada was going to arrive early, it’s something he does when he’s had a bad practice the day before or when he really wants to practice something new without interruption. Raichi feels a little bad because of that, but yesterday he couldn’t sleep thinking about how weird he was behaving and he needed to catch him alone. Raichi’s more confortable if it’s only the two of them, after all, so it’s a way to make it easier for him too.
“Sanada-senpai!”
“What are you doing here so early? Did you eat before coming?”
Raichi avoids his gaze, looking at the ground. “No… not really.”
“What have I told you about that? You can’t come to school without something in your stomach, you’re in a baseball team now.”
“Yes, Sanada-senpai. Sorry.”
Raichi hears him click his tongue, but before he can open his mouth again, something rectangular is put on his hand. Raichi looks up, surprised. Sanada smiles warmly at him, zipping his bag closed. Raichi lifts his hand, where now there’s a sandwich of banana bread with a filling of banana cream. It’s obviously handmade, big and heavy and still hot, and it vanishes in a few minutes. Sanada laughs at his antics, but Raichi accepts his shame and smiles at him. It’s nice, being able to see Sanada like that again.
“Thank you, ‘Nada-senpai.”
“Are you kidding? You’re the best food critic I know.”
“You can count on me, ‘Nada-senpai! I love your foo–.”
He feels the fingers on his upper lip before he actually realises what is happening. Sanada swipes his finger across his lip and the corner of his mouth, cleaning some of the banana cream. Raichi blushes like crazy and avoids his gaze, taking a step back and trying to shrink in himself.
Suddenly, a hand grabs his chin. Long, cold fingers press gently on it, prompting him to lift his face. He resists a little, stubbornly looking at his feet, but those same fingers start tapping his chin and he can’t avoid it anymore. He lifts his face and looks straight at Sanada’s eyes, glowing under the fist lights of the day. He’s handsome, everyone can see that just looking at him, but right now, with tousled hair because of the wind and the shadows that the trees around them provide, he looks wild, hungry, full of unburned energy and adrenalin.
Sanada opens his mouth, ready to say something, but instead of words what comes out of it is a deep sigh that Raichi can feel against his nose. It is only then that he realizes how close they are and he’s never been more aware of the ten centimetres of height difference between them as in that moment. He doesn’t think about how they have gotten to that situation, why does Sanada have a hand on his chin while the other hand is firmly placed on his forearm, or why he doesn’t mind that closeness. Raichi just accepts everything as it is, and lets himself to get lost in Sanada’s eyes, closer and closer with each passing second.
The hand on his chin tilts his head slightly to the side, with tenderness and affection, unhurriedly. Raichi understands that Sanada is giving him time to move, to stop everything in that moment, to turn around and forget everything... but he can’t. He doesn’t want to run away.
In the end, it’s Raichi himself who entangles his fingers behind Sanada’s neck and makes their lips collide painfully.
"Raichi!"
"Sorry! I miscalculated the distance!”
"And I was trying to be romantic..." Sanada smiles, warm and sweet, and Raichi can feel his cheeks turning red.
The pitcher leans towards him again and this time Raichi meets him in the middle, his hands trembling on Sanada’s neck.
This time the kiss turns out much better, which is not difficult compared with their first try. The kisses that follow the first one are simple closed-mouthed clashes of lips, teasing, toying with the patience of the other, some of them lasting more an others lasting less. But Sanada has been waiting for that moment more than he would like to admit and Raichi, once he tries something and likes it, goes into it with the force of a thousand suns, so in a mater of a few minutes the atmosphere changes. The kisses are no longer innocent and playful but fighting teeth and tongues, both seeking all possible contact both between their mouths and their bodies.
Sanada’s hands run over Raichi’s back, his ribs, his abs and all the skin his long arms and his deft fingers can reach. Raichi is content with scratching Sanada’s shoulders through his t-shirt and tangling his fingers in his hair, too out of place to do anything else. He feels like floating adrift, the strong winds and the huge waves making everything unsteady, with only Sanada’s body to stay standing.
Time goes by and kisses become longer and deeper, but always slow.
Sanada is the first to break away, leaving Raichi with his mouth still open and his eyes closed. It’s totally different from the Raichi that stands on the field with his bat, the Raichi that sits quietly in class and the Raichi that laughs with his friends. This Raichi is a masterpiece created by his lips and his hands. He looks amazing like that, an image of the boy that nobody else has seen –and hopefully, if everything goes like he wants, nobody else will.
When he finally realises that there’s nothing but air against his lips, Raichi opens his eyes, glazy and uncertain. Sanada can’t do anything but hug him, smiling sweetly against the younger boy’s hair. But the same hands that not even minutes ago where running through his hair break the moment immediately, pushing him.
Sanada takes a step back, surprised. Raichi is looking at him with wide scared eyes, and the colour of his face is gone. Now that he looks at the boy, he can see he’s trembling and fidgeting, moving backwards slowly and putting as much space as he can between them. Sanada raises a hand to calm him, assure him that nothing’s wrong and there’s nothing to be afraid or nervous about, but the movement of his hand triggers something on the other boy and freezes for milliseconds before turning and running away.
“Raichi!” The boy continues running and before Sanada can even think about following him, Raichi is out of sight. “Fuck.” He throws his head back and closes his eyes, his hands closing in fists at his sides. “Fuck.”
**