[ This, of course, is another case of Mihashi practically sparkling at him. Abe doesn't ever know what to do when he looks at him like that, so bright and happy and wide-eyed in a way that doesn't result in him shaking out of his shoes. It makes him want to squirm, makes him the fidgety one. But instead of focusing on that, he looks to the future. Because they have the fall tournament ahead of them.
That's his immediate goal right now. He needs to be up and walking on his own by then. He needs to be able to crouch and hold his weight by then. He needs to be able to run, to slide, to score his team points. To be there for his pitcher.
Tajima is good, as a substitute, but he's meant to be standing at a different base than home plate. That, that's his spot, where he can meet Mihashi's eyes and hold his mitt in anticipation for a reliable pitch.
Nodding a much more subdued nod, satisfied, Abe leans over him that little bit more and presses his lips to his forehead. Good, he thinks, determined. Remember that. ]
[ mihashi's eyes flutter shut immediately at the kiss to his forehead, mouth falling open just a little bit as he wrinkles his nose with it as well, feeling all warm and nice and squirmy inside. mihashi's felt like that around abe a lot more often than he did at first now (he used to be terrified of abe all the time, and now it's only half that, maybe. seventy five percent.) abe trusts him and cares for him--in fact, abe cares for him more than anybody. mihashi knows this, and mihashi definitely cares for and trusts and loves abe more than anybody too.
(though, abe is a good player and a good person and mihashi is mostly his tagalong, being led by the hand into something great; he'll never believe he's great, and so he'll never quite believe that he's the best thing for abe, but. maybe that will come in time.)
it's not quite enough though, he thinks, and mihashi's eyes flicker open for a second, darting across before they settle on abe again, wide and golden and focused like a pitcher.
maybe... if i just...
his small hands come up to cup abe's cheeks, and it's mihashi who lifts himself up a little off the bed to press a small, sweet kiss to his mouth. ]
[ There's something so easy about this, now. Abe has to wonder if all that physical contact before, as just teammates, made it that way. But he likes to touch Mihashi, likes holding his hand for reasons that aren't just support or checking to see if he's okay. He likes to curl up with him in a nest of blankets. He most of all likes kissing him. Forehead, cheek, mouth. He likes it as much as he likes Mihashi, which is saying something. (Again, he went from being not a fan to being the biggest fan, so it's a bit drastic. But here they are, and he loves Mihashi so much that it's overwhelming sometimes.)
Bracing his weight on his arms, so that he doesn't get any weight on his knee, Abe ducks down a little into Mihashi's touch. Because encouraging him is important, when he does something right, when it's good. And this, this is right. This is the greatest good that there is. Abe knows this for a fact, even if Mihashi doesn't believe it himself, and there are two places where this is the most obvious to him - when they mirror each other at the mound and on home plate, and when they're like this.
So he kisses him back, even if he feels the burn of a blush all the way to his ears. Eventually he won't turn red, but this is still so new and delicate that he can't help it. There's plenty of time ahead of them for more baseball, more practice and games, and more of this. More of them. It makes him feel warm all the way down to his core, makes him calm. Which is a surprising thing all of its own, too. ]
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That's his immediate goal right now. He needs to be up and walking on his own by then. He needs to be able to crouch and hold his weight by then. He needs to be able to run, to slide, to score his team points. To be there for his pitcher.
Tajima is good, as a substitute, but he's meant to be standing at a different base than home plate. That, that's his spot, where he can meet Mihashi's eyes and hold his mitt in anticipation for a reliable pitch.
Nodding a much more subdued nod, satisfied, Abe leans over him that little bit more and presses his lips to his forehead. Good, he thinks, determined. Remember that. ]
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(though, abe is a good player and a good person and mihashi is mostly his tagalong, being led by the hand into something great; he'll never believe he's great, and so he'll never quite believe that he's the best thing for abe, but. maybe that will come in time.)
it's not quite enough though, he thinks, and mihashi's eyes flicker open for a second, darting across before they settle on abe again, wide and golden and focused like a pitcher.
maybe... if i just...
his small hands come up to cup abe's cheeks, and it's mihashi who lifts himself up a little off the bed to press a small, sweet kiss to his mouth. ]
no subject
Bracing his weight on his arms, so that he doesn't get any weight on his knee, Abe ducks down a little into Mihashi's touch. Because encouraging him is important, when he does something right, when it's good. And this, this is right. This is the greatest good that there is. Abe knows this for a fact, even if Mihashi doesn't believe it himself, and there are two places where this is the most obvious to him - when they mirror each other at the mound and on home plate, and when they're like this.
So he kisses him back, even if he feels the burn of a blush all the way to his ears. Eventually he won't turn red, but this is still so new and delicate that he can't help it. There's plenty of time ahead of them for more baseball, more practice and games, and more of this. More of them. It makes him feel warm all the way down to his core, makes him calm. Which is a surprising thing all of its own, too. ]