Cherry wine
When he remembered that winter, Kunigami Rensuke tasted cherries.
Bright and floral as spring, bittersweet and fleeting as summer. The unmistakable, incongruous flavor of Chigiri Hyoma’s attention.
He landed in Munich the day after Manshine’s season ended, his pink hair half-up and his carry-on packed within an inch of its life. It hit the floor when Chigiri fell into Kunigami’s arms, was ignored as its owner buried his face in the crook of Kunigami’s neck.
“I missed you so much,” he breathed into Kunigami’s ear.
“I missed you too.”
—-----------------------------------------
Hyoma had never been in Kunigami’s home in Germany. Blue Lock and Wild Card left Kunigami hollow and struggling to connect with anyone, let alone the boy who spent the entirety of the first and second selections hunting for places they could be alone together. When they’d gone off with their respective teams, Kunigami assumed their relationship was over.
Until he got a birthday card, care of the Bastard Munchen front office.
Happy birthday, Hero. Call me? Followed by a phone number.
Had he gotten that card three weeks earlier, he would’ve thrown it in the trash. He was still haunted by the look on Chigiri’s face when they parted for the last time. Chigiri tried to hug him, but Kunigami stepped back, left Chigiri to shove his hands in his pockets.
“Bye, Hero,” Chigiri had muttered. His eyes were the only hint that he was wounded by the rejection.
“Bye, Chigiri.” Not Princess, as Chigiri’s friends affectionately called him. Not Hyoma, as he’d been in Kunigami’s arms. Chigiri. Formal, cold.
Final.
But Kunigami’s arrival in Germany – and his merciful separation from Ego – felt like a new chapter. As he learned to navigate Munich and got roped into outings with teammates, Kunigami noticed flashes of his old self. He blushed when a teammate complimented a pass he made; he remembered to ask about Noa’s sick mother.
And then his older sister started calling him. She didn’t seem to care that Kunigami barely responded to her, let alone ask her anything. Instead, she called every few days and talked at him about their younger sister, their parents, the neighbor’s new dog, her graduate program. He surprised himself by not hanging up, surprised himself even more by calling her first after two weeks.
So, when he flopped onto his bed the night after receiving Chigiri’s note, it felt reasonable to dial the number provided.
“Kunigami?”
Chigiri’s voice broke something loose in Kunigami’s chest. He cleared his throat in a vain attempt to mask his emotions.
“Thank you for the card.”
There was a pause. “You’re welcome. I hope you enjoyed your birthday.”
The cool formality made Kunigami feel worse. “I wasn’t expecting you to reach out. After…everything.”
“I missed you.”
Chigiri said it like he was discussing the weather. Tears Kunigami couldn’t account for rolled down his cheeks, quiet sobs filling the silence between them.
“Are you crying? Kunigami, I’m sorry, if I’d thought it would upset you I wouldn’t have sent the card –”
“I missed you too,” Kunigami choked out. “I’m so sorry for the way I treated you, Chigiri. You didn’t deserve that. I – Wild Card was a mistake. I shouldn’t have stayed there, not if it hurt you –”
“What happened, Kunigami? What did they do to you?”
Kunigami sighed and began from the moment Chigiri was stolen by Isagi’s team in the second selection. When the sun rose the next morning, Kunigami woke up to find that they’d never hung up. Chigiri’s soft snores were audible through the phone; when Kunigami ended the call his chest ached with a longing he no longer had words to describe.
The calls became nightly occurrences without discussion; texts throughout the day became constant. Kunigami felt his phone buzz in his pocket and knew immediately who it was, smiled preemptively.
Bzzt. This you? [1 attachment: photo of a golden retriever]
Bzzt. I swear if Nagi falls asleep on my gym bag one more time I will strangle him
Bzzt. Can we eat dinner on video call tonight? I’m lonely.
They never openly flirted, never hinted that they were interested in anything beyond romance. Not that Kunigami wasn’t interested – Chigiri made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t since he was eliminated from Blue Lock. He admired Chigiri’s constant reading and his nuanced thoughts on the books he finished, even if Kunigami never had much to contribute to those conversations. He loved Chigiri’s ability to make anything into an amusing story, his beautiful laugh and the way his nose wrinkled when he smiled.
No, Kunigami wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t recognize his crush on Chigiri. But reading others’ feelings was still difficult for him. He only hoped he wasn’t pushing Chigiri away.
And then Bastard Munchen and Manshine City played each other in the UCL.
Kunigami and Chigiri were both starters for the game, and it took everything Kunigami had not to stop and watch Chigiri run. He was more beautiful than Kunigami remembered, a pink blur against the walls of the pitch. Kunigami wanted nothing more than to fall into step with him, to guard him so he could run forever.
When Kunigami got to the locker room after the game, there was already a text from Chigiri waiting on his phone.
“Dinner?”
If asked, Kunigami wouldn’t be able to recall a single detail from the meal. They went somewhere one of Chigiri’s teammates suggested; they talked too much to eat more than a few bites of their food. Kunigami paid the check; Chigiri led the way back to his hotel room.
They didn’t hold hands as they walked. Kunigami desperately wanted to, longed to feel Chigiri’s delicate fingers laced with his own, but the idea of Chigiri pulling away hurt worse than the wanting. The hotel room had a couch, and they sat at opposite ends, the conversation from dinner ongoing.
At some point they moved to sit next to each other. Testing the waters, Kunigami rested his arm over the back of the couch and felt the purest relief of his life when Chigiri cuddled into his side.
When morning came, Kunigami woke up on the couch with Chigiri asleep on his chest. They kissed when they parted. For the rest of the day, Kunigami searched for the taste of Chigiri on his lips.
Their texts and calls became more explicitly romantic after that, but even so Kunigami couldn’t bring himself to ask how Chigiri understood their relationship. But when the season came to a close and Chigiri floated the idea of visiting him in Germany, Kunigami said yes without a second thought.
If he’d set up the guest room, just in case, that was no one’s business but his own.
—----------------------------------------------------
They spent the first evening in Kunigami’s kitchen, cooking and standing closer to one another than strictly necessary. The overstuffed carry-on remained near the front door, nagging that they hadn’t discussed where Chigiri would sleep.
“Kunigami,” Chigiri said when they finally settled in to watch a movie, half-cuddled together under a blanket. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Did I scare you that morning after the tournament? With the kiss?”
Kunigami blinked. “What do you mean?”
“You practically ran away. I know you had to leave, but –”
“I have thought about that kiss every day.”
Chigiri leaned away for a moment, considered Kunigami. Tentatively, he pushed the blanket off his legs and brought his hand to Kunigami’s cheek.
The kiss was better than the one in the hotel, better than any they’d shared at Blue Lock. Chigiri was warm and smelled like home. The soft touch of his lips broke something in Kunigami; in a moment his arms were around the smaller man’s body, his fingers tangled in pink hair, his tongue in Chigiri’s mouth. Chigiri moaned into the kiss and climbed into Kunigami’s lap.
“Should we go to the bedroom?” Chigiri panted after a moment. He was a vision, his lips kiss-red and hair tousled, his eyes hooded and shiny.
In reply, Kunigami stood, his hands under Chigiri’s thighs, and carried him down the hall.
—-----------------------------------------------
They slept late into the morning, tangled up in the sheets. Kunigami woke first, Chigiri’s hair in his mouth. He removed it and rolled over to spoon his lover.
“Morning, Hero,” Chigiri said, his voice still thick with sleep.
“Morning, Hyoma.”