we are all liars
in which eijun and kazuya are both in denial and pining like clueless idiots
“You’re one nasty bastard,” Eijun says.
Kazuya takes the insult completely in stride; it isn’t something new coming from Eijun’s mouth after all. He loops an arm around Eijun’s neck and tugs him closer, pulling Eijun flush against the hard lines of his body. A corner of Kazuya’s mouth twitches when Eijun reflexively struggles against his hold -- though it’s obvious he’s not really putting that much gusto to wrestle away from Kazuya. “Who’s the one asking for extra practice today, hm? Learn to be nicer if you want something, brat.”
“I bought you the stupid salmon onigiri you like this afternoon.” Eijun scowls up at him, his fringe parting in the middle of his forehead and revealing annoyed, brown eyes that were previously partially shielded by his hair. “That’s nice enough.”
“What about my coffee and slice of cheesecake?” Kazuya asks, a lofty lilt in his tone. He continues resting his arm on Eijun’s shoulder, who’s by now given up any semblance of resistance as they make their way to the clubroom.
Eijun scrunches his face up in distaste. “I’m not part of your fanclub, Miyuki.”
Kazuya snickers right by Eijun’s ear, and then cleanly dodges a half-hearted swing at his face. “Would have thought you are by now.”
The corners of his mouth twitch as he attempts to smother his rising amusement at Eijun’s expression of disbelief. “You don’t even like cheesecake!”
“Fancy you noticing that,” Kazuya remarks, and he doesn’t bother to veil the surprise in his voice. Eijun has never pointed that out before, and Kazuya has never mentioned it. He’s mildly impressed -- Eijun might have some hope after all. He draws Eijun closer to him and reaches to flick Eijun’s forehead mischievously with his free hand. “There really might be something in there.”
He squeaks, springing away from Kazuya almost immediately, face flushed with indignant anger and one hand clapped over his forehead protectively. Rather absentmindedly, Kazuya thinks Eijun looks rather cute. Like a provoked kitten, maybe, with big round eyes and brown fur standing up on its ends, soft and completely non-threatening.
“Miyuki Kazuya!” Eijun practically hollers, and Kazuya would’ve been embarrassed if it had been any other time probably, with students still streaming in and out of the gates, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. He ignores the giggles and whispers that he can’t make anything of in the background and lets his amusement slant across his mouth. “Wipe that damned smirk off your face!”
Kazuya tries.
And fails.
Not that he really tried that hard, anyway. He feels his lips curving into a grin again, and Eijun closes the distance between them with one big stride to prod Kazuya’s chest with his finger rudely. Kazuya hardly feels anything, and he raises both his brows to drive his point. Eijun bristles, definitely annoyed now. “Treat your underclassman with respect!”
“I can’t if he doesn’t extend the same courtesy to me first,” Kazuya drawls, unperturbed by Eijun’s antics.
“Ugh.” Eijun grabs Kazuya by his elbow and pulls him roughly forward to the direction of the clubroom. “Let’s go.”
Kazuya complies, deciding to take a break from riling Eijun up. He doesn’t want to take it too far, and contrary to popular belief, he does have his limits.
As they approach the door of the clubroom, Kazuya thinks it’s better to let Eijun know what to expect from today instead of hearing him get all excited about the pitches he’s been dying to try in the equipment room later on. He ends up all disappointed and pout-y for the entire afternoon (and night, if Kazuya’s unlucky) if Kazuya shoots his suggestions flat-down and asks for another pitch instead.
It isn’t that Kazuya doesn’t appreciate Eijun’s tendency to explore new possibilities, but they can always do those later and prioritize the things they should work on first.
More importantly, a petulant Sawamura Eijun is a little difficult to deal with. Not that Eijun purposefully shoves it in Kazuya’s face that he feels let-down and all that shit, but because he usually sits near Kazuya (Eijun always accuses him of the same thing, however, and Kazuya oddly can’t tell who’s being truthful here), he can’t help but notice all the little things do when Eijun’s sullen and downtrodden. Like him eating his meal at half his speed and making ugly and hilarious faces when he thinks Kazuya isn’t looking.
“I think we should do number eleven today. It needs a bit more work before we can put it to test in an actual game.”
“That’s what I have in mind too!” Eijun beams at Kazuya, and that abrupt transition in mood takes Kazuya off-guard and his heart seems to beat a little faster. He clears his throat and digs into his bag for the keys while Eijun waits off the side, humming his favorite band tune under his breath.
Kazuya feels oddly at peace.
He finds his keys, maybe just one second slower than he should. Then he feels Eijun tugging on his arm, and when he looks up Eijun is angling his head to the back of the clubroom. Kazuya’s brows knit together in confusion.
“I heard something behind just now,” Eijun explains. “Maybe someone’s waiting for the room to be unlocked too.”
Kazuya shrugs his shoulders as he unlocks the door. “It’s not unusual. Go call whoever’s out there in and I will go unlock the equipment shed.” Eijun agrees readily and is about to turn when Kazuya grabs Eijun’s bag by its straps, causing Eijun to stumble back in surprise. Kazuya snickers and steadies Eijun by his shoulders.
“What?!”
“Pass me your bag, brat,” Kazuya says, rolling his eyes.
"Oh.” Eijun flashes him a bright toothy grin and hands his bag over. “Thanks, Miyuki-senpai!”
Kazuya doesn’t deign him with a response and heads into the room first to place their bags. When he finishes changing, he realizes with a start that it’s far too quiet outside. Frowning, he decides to head for the equipment later and check on Eijun first.
He leaves the room and turns around the corner, expecting to find Eijun there and is mildly perplexed when he doesn’t. Where did that brat go? He walks further back and hears someone talking -- then laughing -- and cocks his head to the side, curiosity piqued. That sounds like Chris.
He nearly bumps into Eijun, who’s standing right at the next turn. “What are you doing?” Kazuya asks, unable to keep his exasperation out of his voice.
“They look good together,” Eijun comments lightly, not looking at Kazuya but at something else straight ahead. There’s something about the way he says it that makes Kazuya stare at Eijun instead.
Kazuya has always been pretty adept at reading people and it’s an ability he prides himself for. Eijun is one of the easiest people to read for Kazuya, and it makes him easy to be around with because he’s so bluntly honest that it’s refreshing. Perhaps even endearing. But this expression now is something Kazuya has never seen on Eijun’s face. It’s carefully shuttered close, completely void of emotion, and it is at this moment that Kazuya realizes that Eijun chooses to wear his heart on his sleeve.
There’s a swell of quiet admiration and something else, something warm and suffocating, and Kazuya chucks it aside. He follows Eijun’s gaze and everything falls into place.
Ah. The first thought that crosses Kazuya’s mind is that Eijun’s probably disappointed that Chris won’t have that much time to mentor him any longer. The second thought is annoying, eats away at Kazuya in all the wrong ways and squeezes around his gut unpleasantly.
“I heard that they are dating.” The information tumbles from his mouth before he even thinks about it, delivered so flatly and coldly that it surprises even Kazuya himself.
Eijun turns to him now, blinks at Kazuya like he has just realized that he’s here. “Oh. I see.”
Kazuya hates the odd queasiness at his stomach and how sick he feels all of a sudden. He holds Eijun’s gaze nonetheless and feigns nonchalance with a shrug of his shoulder.
“It’s just a rumor.” Kazuya manages to push the words out of his throat, feels like he has ruined things somehow and he has to make it right. There, that’s right. “You know how speculations regarding Chris-senpai go out of hand.”
“They often don’t go too off the mark.” Eijun’s gaze strays back to Chris and the girl he’s laughing with, seemingly without thinking. Kazuya’s jaw clenches as he attempts to keep his sudden rising temper in check.
They are both quiet for a moment.
“He looks happy.” Eijun’s voice sounds slightly strangled now when he speaks up this time. “That’s good.”
But you are not.
There’s a stiff smile plastered across Eijun’s lips when he looks at Kazuya like he’s waiting for him to agree with him. Kazuya lets his mouth curve upwards, edges soft and sharp at the same time, and it’s definitely more convincing than Eijun’s.
“You deserve it too,” Kazuya says. Eijun blinks at him owlishly, obviously not expecting that response. Then, realizing that sounds way too weird and disgustingly sappy, Kazuya hastily adds: “Idiot.”
Eijun stares at Kazuya like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle.
Kazuya turns away and searches his pocket for the keys as he leaves. They have wasted enough time. He’s not here to spread rumors or witness someone getting their heart broken. He hears Eijun’s footsteps follow after his. “Hurry and change. I will be at the equipment shed.”
“Okay.” Eijun quickens his pace into a light jog ahead of Kazuya. When Kazuya passes the door of the clubroom, he sees Eijun’s hunched back facing the door, shoulders shaking and arm raised to his face.
His chest tightens unbearably and he wrenches his gaze away. This is a private moment and he’s not anyone to intrude. He hurries over to the equipment shed and there’s a distinct urge to laugh.
God, I’m a surprisingly good upperclassman at times.