A/N: SO I'M EATING A POPSICLE WHILE POSTING THIS. You'll see how this is ironic later. So I'm back with another oneshot, this time feat. Mihashi and Tajima! Really, how many ?/Mihashi fics will I write? Who knows. And I am very disappointed with the lack of love for this pairing. Just like I was with the lack of KanouMiha fics. Everything's either AbeMiha or TajiHanai! Not that they're bad, but... Okay, let's just get on with this before I rant your faces off.
So I'm back with another oneshot, this time feat. Mihashi and Tajima! Really, how many ?/Mihashi fics will I write? Who knows. And I am very disappointed with the lack of love for this pairing. Just like I was with the lack of KanouMiha fics. Everything's either AbeMiha or TajiHanai! Not that they're bad, but... Okay, let's just get on with this before I rant your faces off.DISCLAIMER: Do I own Ookiku Furikabutte/Big Windup? Of course I don't.
Mihashi pulled his shirt over his head. Practice that day hadn't seemed so bad, not compared to most days where he'd stumble into the locker room completely exhausted and ready to fall flat on his face and sleep on the floor. It was probably just him actually getting into shape for once, but it sure felt nice to have at least some energy left at the end of the day.
"Mihashi, don't forget to drink lots of water," a gruff voice behind him chided. The sandy brunette instantly recognized it as Abe, his extremely over-protective catcher. "You may not feel like you need it, but you do. So drink."
Mihashi nodded several times, rummaging around in his bag for the water bottle he kept in there. To anyone else Abe's constant nagging might've seemed like an annoyance or unnecessary, but honestly, Mihashi didn't mind. It was the guy's way of showing he actually cared, even if it didn't seem that way.
"I'm sure Mihashi knows that, Abe," another voice, Hanai, called from the other side of the room. "I don't think he needs another mom."
"Was I talking to you? And what the hell, comparing me to a mom. I'd obviously be a dad!"
"Dads don't nag like you do."
With how far Abe had walked away toward the captain and how everyone who had heard couldn't help but burst out laughing, Mihashi didn't get to hear the short-tempered boy's reply. It was kind of fitting, though; their team had gotten close over the past few months, like a second family, complete with the occasional argument or soft moment, too.
He tilted his head back and put the bottle to his mouth, letting the cool clear liquid inside it run freely into his mouth and swallowing repeatedly to get it down his throat. Water was very refreshing, especially after a long day's practice. It was almost as good as taking a shower, and was enough to hold one over until they had an opportunity to.
Wiping his mouth after he was finished, he let his eyes wander over to where Abe was now. He and Hanai were still talking, though it seemed to be about something at least semi-serious, as Abe didn't look irritated anymore and the smile on Hanai's face was gone. This wasn't what Mihashi focused on, though.
What he focused on, even if it was subconsciously, was the shorter boy between them that currently went through his locker, presumably looking for something. Tajima was currently shirtless, so every move his arms made had his back muscles shifting slightly, hypnotizing the sandy brunette. Oh, what a nice back he had. ...wait, what? The cleanup hitter must've had something to add to Abe and Hanai's conversation, for he turned just enough for Mihashi to see his bright, freckled face and said something in Abe's direction. It was probably something risqué, because while Tajima laughed at himself, Abe looked annoyed and Hanai seemed uncomfortable and turned away. Again though, Mihashi merely stared at Tajima, admiring how his face contorted when he laughed. He has such a nice smile. Woah, woah. Nice smile? Sure, the short boy did have a nice smile, but why was that the only thing he can think about right now?
After a moment Tajima is facing away from him again, giving him another nice view of his back, but before Mihashi can enjoy it, he finally locates his shirt and pulls it on, straightening it a little before he puts things back in his bag. The sandy brunette feels disappointed. I wonder what that skin would feel like... Okay, stop right there. Just stop. What are you doing, thinking about your teammate, your best friend, your male best friend like that?
Honestly, Mihashi didn't know. He knew he'd been thinking about Tajima more and more lately, but just as a friend...or so he'd thought. His friend was undeniably attractive, so much so that when a day went by with no girl coming up to him to try and flirt was an oddity. But Mihashi couldn't help but feel like a stalker of some kind, watching as the dark-haired boy slung his bag over his shoulder and closed his locker, having no idea he's being watched so closely. So Mihashi looks away, though he doesn't really want to, and closes his own locker, picking up his bag and starting toward the door.
He doesn't have to sneak any looks afterwards, though, because he and Tajima along with Abe always rode home together. Still, it felt weird, having just realized that he kind of, sort of, maybe liked Tajima, to talk to him so freely, so he was quiet most of the way, only speaking when addressed. Soon, though, Abe heads one way while the other two go another, so he knows he'll have to talk eventually.
Strangely, though, Tajima is silent for the rest of the way, up until he has to turn away and leave the sandy brunette. When they get to this point, he stops abruptly, causing Mihashi to quickly halt also and look back at him questioningly. Tajima looks at him. "Is everything okay?"
Mihashi was taken aback. "H-huh?"
Tajima looked down slightly. "You know, are you okay? I don't know, you just seemed kind of quiet all that time...well, more quiet than usual, which is pretty quiet..." he trailed off, suddenly laughing and shaking his head, his face looking apologetic for even bringing it up. "You know what, nevermind. Just thinking out loud."
Mihashi's heart fell. Here Tajima was, being nice and trying to ask what's wrong, and all he does is discourage him! Now he feels really guilty, on top of all his staring at him earlier. Even though he can't tell him what's wrong, he can still nice about it. "Oh, I-I'm fine! Really! Just a little w-worn out, that's all," he said quickly, not able to help the stutter that always seems to worm it's way into his mouth.
Tajima just nods. One could tell that Tajima didn't quite buy that, and Mihashi felt horrible for being the reason his face looked like that, so somber and faraway. But as soon as it's there, it's gone, replaced by a serious face. "But you know you can always talk to me, right? Tell me about anything that's bothering you?"
Again, Mihashi's surprised, but oddly touched at the same time, and his mouth flaps open and closed as he tries and fails to think of something to say. Finally he just nods his head with a shaky smile.
Tajima walks with his bike closer to him, so close that they nearly touch and Mihashi's heart starts to beat ten times faster because just a few centimeters more and he'll actually be touching Tajima, when the cleanup hitter hooks and arm around his shoulders. "Good," he says, a smile breaking across his features. "'Cause that's what friends are for!" he laughs, and Mihashi can't help but laugh with him despite how knotted up his insides feel from the contact. He wishes that it would last forever, because just being this close and laughing together is more than enough, but every moment comes and goes. Tajima pulls away and gives the sandy brunette a small wave. "See ya tomorrow, then."
As Tajima turns away and heads off, Mihashi finally regains enough motor skill to return the farewell. "Y-yeah, see you," he says as he re-mounts his bike and rides off towards his own home a few blocks down.
When he arrives at his house, his mother asks why he had such a goofy smile on his face, did something good happen at practice today? Again he shies away from the subject, playing it off as 'just a good mood', which Mrs. Mihashi seems to accept as she starts dinner. He can't seem to get that smile or that laugh out of his head as he sits there, and he knows that his fascination with the other boy might be borderline unhealthy.
But the sandy brunette can't bring himself to care.
Mihashi's mouth was dry.
There they all sat; him, Hamada, Izumi and Tajima, with the desks congregated into a solid mass of four and each of them eating their lunch and/or chatting the hour away. Tajima had already eaten all his lunch earlier, Izumi merely had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and Hamada claimed that he wasn't hungry. That left Mihashi as the only one with an actual lunch. Well, almost. Along with the bento his mother had made him, he had forgotten to take something to drink with him, and he was parched at the moment. But he didn't want to go get a drink from the water fountain, as he was having a good time just sitting and laughing along with his friends, trying to make his Tajima-staring as discreet as possible.
"Mihashi~" Tajima cooed, leaning forward to smile at him sweetly. "You should let me have a bite of that. Or three."
Oh God, please don't let him blush. Please. The sandy brunette stammered a bit, preparing to answer him with a yes, of course you can, T-Tajima, when Izumi smacked him on the head. The taller boy looked at Tajima with disapproval. "Dude, let him eat. Do you know how mad Abe'd get if he heard you ate some of his lunch?" All four of them cringed; the last time Tajima had done so, Hanai and Sakaeguchi had to literally pry Abe's hands from the cleanup hitter's neck. "Besides, you already ate, remember?"
Tajima groaned, laying his head on the desk so he faced Izumi with a pitiful expression. "But I'm still hungry," he whined, resulting in a simultaneous eyeroll from both Izumi and Hamada.
"So you guys have practice today?" Hamada asked, absently sewing on the large piece of fabric he always seemed to have with him. After people had seen the banner he'd made for the team not too long ago, some clubs had asked him if he could do the same for them, and he accepted quite a few requests, with the offered compensation turned down, of course.
"Was that even a serious question?" Izumi glanced at him, his cheek resting in his palm as he tapped his fingers on the desk idly. "Of course we do."
Hamada bit off the thread he was using with his teeth. "Well, I was just wondering," he said defensively. "You have a game tomorrow, after all."
Izumi snorts. "Like that would be any reason not to. Momokan works us day and night, rain or shine, no matter what." He pauses, closing his eyes completely. "That's why we're all improving so quickly."
Hamada nods absently. "That's true."
Mihashi was almost finished with his bento around this time, and his mouth was even worse off than it was, but he wasn't bothered by it much if he distracted himself. He was busy half-smiling at the way Tajima acted so childishly when he was hungry. The way his cheek pressed against the table was somehow cute, too.
As if on cue, the dark haired boy groaned again. "I'm hungry!"
Izumi sighed, just narrowing his eyes at the boy next to him. Hamada, however, paused his sewing to reach into his pocket and pull out a couple of bills. He held them out to Tajima, who did a double-take and looked at him like he was surprised. "If you shut up, I'll give you these."
Tajima's eyes were sparkly, like a little kid inside a candy store having just been told to pick out five different sweets. He shot out of his seat and leaned toward Hamada eagerly. "Of course! I'll be so quiet you'll forget I'm even here!" he declares, holding his right hand up in the air.
Hamada raises an eyebrow and inspects him for a moment before relenting and handing the bills over. Tajima practically jumps for joy, holding the bills in the air triumphantly.
Mihashi lets out a cough and pats his chest, trying to get his swallow down his throat successfully. His mouth is so dry it's starting to affect his eating too; he thinks it's best if he stops for now. The sound attracts the attention of all three, but it's Tajima's eyes he meets. The cleanup hitter looks at him with an expression Mihashi can't figure out before he gives him a toothy grin that the sandy brunette finds incredibly attractive.
"Okay, be right back!" he said as he dashed off, no doubt thinking about what he'd purchase when he got to the cafeteria. Izumi and Hamada's gazes still lingered on him, though, and he returned their looks for a moment.
"You okay?" Hamada spoke first, looking genuinely concerned. "Sounded like you were choking."
Mihashi swallowed again and shook his head. "Oh, no. It just went d-down the wrong pipe, that's all."
"Oh." The topic having been dropped, he went back to work on his sewing. Izumi had taken a piece of paper out of his bag and started to write, saying something about an essay he needed to start before he forgot about it. With nothing better to do, Mihashi was thinking about going to get that drink from the fountain now, but decided against it; he just didn't feel like getting up. So he settled with watching Hamada sew his banner. After about a minute he had to ask. "What's the banner for?" he asked, unable to read it because of the way he held it.
Hamada didn't falter. "It's for the soccer team," he said, smiling at him. "They need it for the tournament they're going to play in next week. Just putting the finishing touches on it right now, should be done by tomorrow."
Mihashi smiled back at him. Other than cheerleading and basketball, sewing was a favorite hobby of Hamada's, and no matter how many people made fun of him for it being 'girly' or whatnot, he was always proud of himself for the way his banners turned out. It awed Mihashi how calmly and intricately and tenderly he could do these things, while on the basketball court he was always fired up and moving around and loud. Like two sides of the same coin.
His train of thought was completely shattered when he heard running footsteps coming from down the hall. He looked up at the doorway, and who else would it be but Tajima, carrying something each hand. He approached them triumphantly, holding his treats up for all to see, again reminding Mihashi of a little kid. In one hand was a long, narrow package of something, and in the other hand was a can of soda. As soon as he sits down, he holds the can out to Mihashi. "For you," he says with a wink.
Now, anyone else would take the can with a small utterance of thanks and think nothing much of it. But this is Mihashi. His eyes widen, he gasps and he thinks his heart might have skipped a beat or six. How is it that Tajima knew? Could he read minds? Did he read that much into Mihashi's cough and realize that he was thirsty? Either way, it touched Mihashi to no end, and all he could do was reach out and take it while he made a fool out of himself stuttering and trying to get a coherent thanks out.
"What, you got Mihashi something and not me?" Hamada mock-whined. "I'm the one who gave you the money!"
Tajima just laughed as he opened his package. "Well you weren't about to choke on your food 'cause you didn't have a drink, were you?"
Mihashi didn't hear the reply that Hamada gave, or the snide comment Izumi muttered. At first it was because he was too busy happily slurping down his soda, his throat welcoming the soothing liquid. But when he set the can down on his desk and caught sight of what exactly Tajima had bought to munch on, his throat went even drier than ever. Heck, he could barely even swallow anymore.
Of course Tajima had chosen a Popsicle above all else.
The poor sandy brunette couldn't take his eyes of the freckled boy as he swiftly popped the frozen treat into his mouth and started to suck. He did so quickly and efficiently. He seems practiced... No! No! Stop. Every so often Tajima's eyes would flicker over to Mihashi and catch him staring, but he didn't seem to know what he was doing (or if he did, he didn't mind, Mihashi thinks) and looked away a moment later. While he consumed his Popsicle, the dark-haired boy switched between watching Izumi write things down on his paper and Hamada finishing up his sewing. No one was currently talking, making the situation even more awkward for the sandy brunette. And as if watching Tajima suck a Popsicle off noisily wasn't enough, he started slowly moving it up and down in his mouth, even taking his mouth of it completely to lick his way up its entirety every once in a while. Mihashi had to bite his tongue to keep from moaning of gasping at the sight. It's like he doesn't even know what he's doing! Why do I have to find this so erotic...? He wanted to melt into a puddle of goo and disappear when he realized that he was enjoying this way more than he should've, so much so that there was a sizable bulge in his pants.
Izumi sighed as Tajima made a particularly noisy sucking sound. "Dude, I thought you said you were going to be quiet," he snapped, looking at him with a frown.
Tajima pulled the Popsicle out to answer. "You can only eat a Popsicle so quietly. And who does work during the lunch hour, anyway?" he retorted, his ever-present smile wide.
Mihashi just hoped that no one looked at him or spoke to him or anything. He knew his face was red and he knew that he wouldn't be able to speak if he needed to. He needed to calm down, or just survive until Tajima finished his treat. He was about halfway done with it; Mihashi was unsure if he could make it.
But he was doing really good, doing his best to ignore Tajima while he watched Hamada intently and twiddled his thumbs. However, for some reason, Mihashi couldn't help but sneak a peek at the shorter boy for just a second. When he did, he was shocked to find Tajima staring at him, and as soon as Tajima met his eyes, he smirked and slowly, so slowly, licked his way up the Popsicle, flicking his tongue at the top rather suggestively, and finally biting the tip of it clean off.
Mihashi let out a strangled sound somewhere between a cough and a gasp and shot out of his seat, unable to take it anymore. Then, remembering he had an easily noticeable 'problem' down below, he practically flew out of the classroom, leaving his friends with only a shaky, "B-bathroom!"
He didn't even slow down until he reached the bathroom down the hall. Locking himself in a stall, he struggled to remember how to breathe. That last bit Tajima had done, that could not have been innocent. Was that just a joke? Or, worse, did he know? Did he realize what Mihashi had been doing for the past few days? He had no idea how he'd be able to face him now, or ever again. But he would have to at some point for sure.
The sandy brunette let out a shaky breath. That could wait. For now, he had to relieve himself of his shameful problem.
Mihashi struggled to hold the bats in his arms as he carried a bucket of balls back to the equipment room. Because he and Abe had stayed out to practice for a few extra minutes, Momokan had insisted that they put all the equipment away for her, since Shinooka was at home sick and she supposedly had a date (when she had told them that, Abe and Mihashi both had to use all their self-control to not stare at her outlandishly). So by the time the both of them had dressed back in and came back out to put the things away, everyone else was already loitering outside, getting ready to leave.
Abe was in front of him, sort of showing the sandy brunette the way since he'd never had to put the equipment away before. He held two bats and two buckets of balls, and was just as quiet as the pitcher was. Normally he would be talking to Mihashi about something, more than most often about his pitching, but since Mihashi had done so well during practice he had nothing much to say.
But it wasn't quiet, which Mihashi found weird. Actually, it was the sound of running water, which was really weird, since everyone mutually agreed that they'd just rather shower at home; it was more comfortable. They just so happened to pass the shower area on their way to the storage room, and while Abe really couldn't have cared less, Mihashi was curious as to who it was, so he took a sideways glance inside as they passed.
Oh. My. God.
His skin glistened as the water cascaded down his body and washed all the soap and shampoo and whatnot away. His hands mussed up his hair, making sure everything was nice and washed out as well as making his back shine in the direct light coming from overhead. And, God help him and his pubescent teenage mind, Mihashi couldn't help it, he really couldn't, the way his eyes trailed down, taking it all in hungrily, down to his butt, which was very nice, small but plump. Mihashi guiltily wondered how good it would feel to squeeze it. As much as he liked the cleanup hitter, he never in his wildest fantasies (okay, that might be a lie) thought that he would be blessed enough to see him stark-naked, taking a shower.
But after allowing him to see something so amazing, the powers that be had to entertain themselves somehow. So, they made Tajima turn around and look at him, catching the mind-blown sandy brunette redhanded and still staring at his ass.
And like that, Mihashi was gone. He was down the hall and out on the field again, letting all the equipment in his hands clatter to the ground, racing toward his bike in a panicked rush before Tajima could do so much as open his mouth. He passed by his teammates just as fast, not noticing Sakaeguchi question his sudden departure or Abe yell at him to slow down lest he run into something or fall and injure himself somehow. He was on his bike in record time, pedaling as fast as his thin legs would and speeding down the street with blatant disregard for any and all pedestrians. He was truly sick, enjoying that peepshow so much. Mihashi wanted to crawl into a small, cramped little hole and die so he would never have to meet Tajima's bright brown eyes ever again. How in the world was he going to explain that?
He deemed it okay to stop, since in a matter of a couple of minutes he had made it as far as just a block away from his house. He skidded to a halt, panting and wheezing as he leaned it against a tree nearby and sat on the curb, his head in his hands. His lungs were on fire and he didn't know how he would be able to face Tajima, or even the team again, because who wouldn't warn everyone else about some creepy guy stalking you in the shower? And if that wasn't just dandy on its own, the sandy brunette just realized that he had been in such a hurry that he'd completely forgotten his school bag at the field, meaning another 'F' for not doing his Classical Lit. homework. Perfect.
He just sat there for a while, letting his lungs and heart rate rest and go back to normal. He idly wondered what time it was; he had no way to check the time since his cellphone had been in his bag. He couldn't have been out sitting there for more than ten minutes. His mom would probably ask where he'd been. Or maybe she wouldn't notice, because she'd be on the phone with Hanai's mom, chatting the night away. In either case, he was kind of hungry.
But before he could make any move to get up, he heard the sounds of tires heading his way. Out of habit he looked up to see who it was, even though it wouldn't have anything to do with him, and nearly had a heart attack when he saw who it was. Tajima rode toward him, fully clothed, a smile on his face, and two school bags on his shoulder.
Mihashi seriously contemplated quickly jumping on his bike and riding away, avoiding Tajima altogether, but what the hell. The cleanup hitter was smiling, for goodness' sakes, he couldn't be that mad or annoyed. Plus he had his bag. He kind of needed that.
Tajima braked a few feet away from him. Kicking the kickstand down and parking the bike, he approached the sandy brunette. "Hey, Mihashi," he said casually, as if nothing was awry.
Mihashi couldn't get himself to speak.
Tajima had paused, expecting a response of some sort, but when he realized that none was coming, he continued forward until he was about an arm's length away. He held out one of the bags. "Did you forget something?" he grinned.
Mihashi looked up at him incredulously before he took it gingerly from his hands, his own shaking a little. How can he be so nonchalant? Did he forget what had happened? Or maybe he doesn't realize it? He struggled to find words to thank the freckled boy, but a different set of words leapt from his throat first. "I-I'm sorry!"
Tajima jumped a little at the sudden reaction, but the smile never left his face. "What for?"
Mihashi looked down guiltily, his body nearly in the fetal position. "W-well, y'know, for s-s-staring...at you..." he trailed off, reluctant to even say it out loud.
Here, Tajima's face lost it's smile. He took it upon himself to sit down next to the sandy brunette on the curb, who was shocked by the action but made no move to shy away. "You know, I don't think you did that on purpose. You're not the kind of person who goes around spying on people when they're in the bathroom or something like that. I saw you, you had equipment in your hands and you were going to put them away. Just got a little distracted, that's all," he chuckled.
Mihashi looked at Tajima hard. "So...y-you're not mad?"
Now Tajima laughed. "Of course not. In fact..." he paused, looking at Mihashi out of the corner of his eyes. "I'm kinda happy."
The taller boy spluttered. "Wh-wh-what?" he gasped, his eyes widening.
Tajima chuckled again. "Mihashi, let me tell you something. I love you."
What followed was stunned silence on the sandy brunette's part. "Wha, wha, wha, wh-wha...?" he butchered his question, almost positive that he had heard wrong. Did Tajima just say he loved him? No. No, that had to be his imagination.
Tajima smiled, and this wasn't one of those regular, hyperactive smiles that he wore all the time. This one was soft, kind, and genuine, an expression one never would have thought Tajima could make. It looked surprisingly good on him. "Maybe that was a little sudden, but it's true. I love you, Mihashi." His voice was so gentle and meaningful that Mihashi could have cried.
His head swam, trying to register that information. I love you. That little clip kept playing in his head over and over, burning itself into his mind. Was this some kind of dream or hallucination? If it was, he never wanted to wake up. Ever. But it was just so...unbelievable. How does someone so attractive and skilled and funny and confident fall for someone as lame as Mihashi? "...Wh-why?" he managed to ask simply, his voice tiny and still conveying his apparent shock.
The shorter boy laughed. "Why? I don't know. You can't really help who you fall in love with. But let's see..." he thought, putting his chin in his hands. "You're cute. You're funny. You're honest. You're cute. You're a hard worker. You care about others. You're cute. You're stubborn. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for." He grinned. "Did I mention that you're cute?"
Mihashi's face was red. Did he really think all that stuff? About him? "I-I...no, n-no way, I..." he mumbled, not knowing what to say.
"You are. See, right now, the way you're all red and blushing. You're so adorable."
Mihashi was quiet for a moment. All the compliments were going to his head, and reality was finally sinking in. Tajima liked him. Tajima liked him. Tajima loved him. If he was alone he would probably be jumping around like an idiot. So he settled for grinning like a fool. "Y-y'know, I...I really...F-for a-a while now, I-I've...I've liked you, t-too."
Tajima merely closed his eyes and grinned. "I kinda had a feeling."
Mihashi turned to him, eyes wide. "W-was I that obvious?" he cried, feeling like a total loser.
Tajima winked at him. "Kinda."
Mihashi groaned, mentally facepalming.
And when the sandy brunette turned toward him again, Tajima leaned in and pressed his lips against Mihashi's. Mihashi froze, surprised by the sudden move but not at all disappointed by it. It was innocent and soft, just like Mihashi had envisioned it to be. He relaxed into it and pressed back, clumsily but with feeling. All too soon, though, Tajima pulled away, beaming. Mihashi made a sound of disappointment but smiled too, elated to have actually kissed him.
"Hate to stop now, but my mom'll freak if I'm not home for dinner soon," he said, standing up. "We can pick up where we left off tomorrow morning before practice, maybe," he smirked, walking over to his bike once more.
Mihashi stood up as well. "T-that sounds nice," he agreed, picking up his bag and grabbing his bike too.
Tajima walked his bike over to where Mihashi was. "One thing, though," he said, his smile noticeably absent. "Is it okay if I call you Ren? Feel free to call me Yuuichirou, but Tajima's a little easier on the tongue."
And for the first time that evening, Mihashi broke into a fit of giggles. "Of course y-you can," he answered as soon as he could talk again. "As long as I can call you Ch-Chiro."
Tajima smiled his normal bright smile again. "Then it's a deal!" he exclaimed, and stole another, quick kiss from the unsuspecting boy in front of him. Before Mihashi's face could redden again, Tajima mounted his bike. "See you tomorrow, Ren!" he called out behind him as he rode away.
Mihashi grinned. "'Night, Chiro!"
And when he arrived home that evening, Mihashi's mother was on the phone, laughing and gossiping with Mrs. Hanai. Even though dinner wouldn't be ready for a while yet, Mihashi climbed up the stairs to his room in a kind of dazed stupor. The good kind. He flopped onto his bed and couldn't hide his good mood as he giggled like a lovesick girl into his pillow, not caring about a thing in the world.
Tomorrow was going to be a good day.
A/N: This fic is dedicated to my dear buddy Haylee, whom supports this pairing even more than I do. HBD, girl. TajiHanai and AbeMiha fans gon' hate, but this is probably my favorite pairing. But I have like twelve favorite pairings, so this means nothing. Reviews are always nice-click the button below and leave me one, telling me whatcha liked, didn't like, if you want a sequel, etc. etc. Ciao!
TajiHanai and AbeMiha fans gon' hate, but this is probably my favorite pairing. But I have like twelve favorite pairings, so this means nothing. Reviews are always nice-click the button below and leave me one, telling me whatcha liked, didn't like, if you want a sequel, etc. etc.