[ With a little puff of satisfaction, now that Haruichi has been sufficiently swaddled in layers so that he won't get sick or go cold for the rest of the day, Furuya tugs his sleeves down a little on his sweater. It's a lot easier than looking at his friend in his coat, anyways, especially after the lingering touch. ] It won't be for very long, so it should be okay.
[ He curls his fingers over the cuffs of his sleeves, circling his thumb absently against the side of his index as they resume their little walk. It's not that his hands are cold, although he probably should have brought gloves himself. At least the chill doesn't bother him the same way it does Haruichi, and that's what matters. His hands are ever covered, now, by the kittenpaws the coat's given him.
But then attention is brought to his own bare hands, and Furuya blinks down at him. ] I'll be all right, Kominato - [ oh, okay, they're holding hands now ] - kun.
[ ... they're holding hands now.
He ducks his head a little and looks off to the side, picking at his sweater with his free hand. But after a beat, he shifts and adjusts how their hands are pressed together, threading their fingers together. ] ... thank you. This is. Much better.
[ sometimes with furuya, haruichi thinks he can actually see the cogs turning in his head. it's a form of his friend's social awkwardness--like he just doesn't know how to converse with people because he's never had to really do it before. the thought breaks haruichi's heart a little--it's easy enough to put together what kind of things must have happened before furuya satoru became furuya satoru the monster pitcher at seidou high. but here, he has friends and that's good--here, his social awkwardness is a point to tease and move on from. in all honesty, haruichi finds it endearing. his friend's habit of falling asleep in random places, of (literally) ignoring eijun and miyuki when they tell him things he doesn't want to hear--it's all just another part of furuya.
he rarely ignores haruichi, which makes him feel all kinds of warm inside.
the two of them get along really well. haruichi gets along great with most of the team--eijun, especially, could be considered his best friend, and his loving nickname of 'kominato jr.' guarantees his acceptance into the fold of first string players. he hasn't had trouble bonding with people since ryousuke used to beat up his bullies, and though he's always been shy and quiet, he's friendly. and maybe those two things (haruichi's inablity to take praise without getting horrifically embarrassed and the smile he always has for his teammates, for his brother, for his friends) are what made his and furuya's bond as strong as it was. he isn't loud or brash like eijun, doesn't tease or needle like miyuki. he just enjoys spending time with furuya in his own, quiet way, and he thinks that maybe furuya enjoys spending time with him too.
especially after that reaction. talk about cogs turning--haruichi almost watches the process as he realizes that he is, in fact, holding his hand. though his own face is burning red, enough that he can feel it in his ears, haruichi can't help but smile in spite of himself. his hand is big compared to haruichi's, fingers long where his are short and delicate, but their callouses match, and the warmth he's feeling isn't just coming from the peacot wrapped around him.
as their fingers thread together, haruichi ends up ducking his nose further into the big scarf. he hasn't really addressed these feelings yet, just knows that they happened and that they're there, and maybe, just maybe, they're returned. he gives his hand a squeeze, and his tone is nothing but warm. ]
[ As someone who spent much of his childhood shy and quiet, and then further withdrew when his teammates in junior high deemed him a monster impossible to play with, Furuya has no idea how to interact with people. He's only recently come to terms with the fact that he has people at his back, now, but it's still relatively difficult for him to talk to them. Most of the time he thinks of what he could say and it cycles through his head, turning those gears in his brain like clockwork. Socially awkward, quiet, and used to being on his own, some people are harder to socialize with than others.
Eijun is loud, and while they enable one another at times and their rivalry fuels their friendship, he always finds himself tired after some one-on-one time with the other pitcher. He admires Miyuki, even if he finds him to be frustrating when he grins that self-satisfied grin of his, gets irritated with his teasing. Both of them are easy to ignore, when they're doing or saying something he doesn't want to deal with.
But the one person that he truly admires is Haruichi. People underestimate him constantly because of his size, because of how he looks, but if anyone on this team is a prodigy it's him. Pitching is all he ever wants to do, is the thing that satisfies him most, challenges him most, but there's always a sort of thrill when he and Harucchi practice together. There's a brilliant mind hidden behind all that cotton candy-colored hair, and he can feel the hard work he puts into everything he does by the press of their hands together, matching callouses.
Most of all, though, being with him is nice. They don't have to talk - although it's easiest, out of everyone on the team, for him to talk to Haruichi, because he's patient as he thinks of how to string his responses together - and there's no pressure. A little teasing, but lighthearted rather than that familiar needling. Haruichi is gentle and welcoming, but that doesn't change the fact he's power, a storm, neatly packed away in porcelain.
So while he doesn't know what to do, Furuya does know what this feeling is. And if they're holding hands... ]
[ furuya's hand feels really, really nice in his. that's the first thing that comes to mind as haruichi gets used to the feeling. his hands are really warm despite the cold--probably because he just isn't feeling it--and his callouses are rough on his own, fingers so big they almost wrap over the top of his hand. these are hands that pitch. hands that handle a baseball every single day. the hands of a monster pitcher, as some people have called him, who can throw a fastball so awe-inspiring that even haruichi has trouble hitting it. he's hit furuya's pitches a few times in practice, but he can't control them like he wants to, like he can with almost every other pitch, because furuya's pitches are so strong. he could see why he did so badly with other people: people were scared of him.
but haruichi's not scared of him at all. he finds furuya hopelessly endearing most of the time--even when he's scolding him for falling asleep in practice because it's hot, even when he's ignoring eijun or miyuki. he's never found him difficult to understand, or even scary, mostly because he was quick to figure out that his friend just didn't know how to do a lot of things socially, and if anyone could emphasize with that, it was haruichi. he knows what it's like to be picked on (what quiet and shy kid with pink hair wouldn't?) and he knows, if he hadn't had his big brother? he probably would have turned out much the same as furuya.
so it's easy for him to be quiet with him. it's easy for their silences to lapse into companionable, easy for him to communicate with him with just a look from behind his fringe. and it's easy to talk too, because haruichi will always be patient. he knows it's there, and he knows what's there is worth it.
as he speaks, haruichi looks up at him. his cheeks are still pink, half from the cold and half from holding furuya's hand, but he tilts his head to the side a little. ] Yes, Furuya-kun?
[ Almost absently, Furuya rubs his thumb along Haruichi's, eyes down as he tries to figure out how exactly he wants to say this. Putting effort into picking the right words, instead of just saying the first thing that his mind churns out. It's hard, a lot of the time, but he wants to do this for Haruichi, to make sure that he tells him what he's thinking before it has a chance to slip away.
Not that Haruichi himself is going anywhere, considering the fact that their fingers are tangled together and their palms pressed close. He can feel where some of their callouses match, from handling a ball so often, but there are still differences. A pitcher and an infielder, and all their hard work is written on their hands. But that's not all that's there, in his delicate touch, because he's seen him practicing with that wooden bat of his late into the day, time and time again. And he has to wonder, what would happen if he used a metal bat, if he could send the ball flying further after all that time with the wooden one, after all the strength he's put into the wooden one. But there's something strangely satisfying, for someone who doesn't want their pitches to be hit, in hearing the crack of the ball meeting wood on the occasion that Satoru throws for Haruichi.
He wants to keep that. He wants to keep this companionship, and Haruichi's patience and cleverness, the easy way that they mesh. There's no stress or exhaustion, even when he's being scolded for falling asleep or pretending to eat so he can go practice faster. It's not often he wants things beyond his norm, but he figures - in a very simple way, really - that he can try. ]
Has this been a date? [ Do his cheeks flush with more color? A little, maybe. ]
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[ He curls his fingers over the cuffs of his sleeves, circling his thumb absently against the side of his index as they resume their little walk. It's not that his hands are cold, although he probably should have brought gloves himself. At least the chill doesn't bother him the same way it does Haruichi, and that's what matters. His hands are ever covered, now, by the kittenpaws the coat's given him.
But then attention is brought to his own bare hands, and Furuya blinks down at him. ] I'll be all right, Kominato - [ oh, okay, they're holding hands now ] - kun.
[ ... they're holding hands now.
He ducks his head a little and looks off to the side, picking at his sweater with his free hand. But after a beat, he shifts and adjusts how their hands are pressed together, threading their fingers together. ] ... thank you. This is. Much better.
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he rarely ignores haruichi, which makes him feel all kinds of warm inside.
the two of them get along really well. haruichi gets along great with most of the team--eijun, especially, could be considered his best friend, and his loving nickname of 'kominato jr.' guarantees his acceptance into the fold of first string players. he hasn't had trouble bonding with people since ryousuke used to beat up his bullies, and though he's always been shy and quiet, he's friendly. and maybe those two things (haruichi's inablity to take praise without getting horrifically embarrassed and the smile he always has for his teammates, for his brother, for his friends) are what made his and furuya's bond as strong as it was. he isn't loud or brash like eijun, doesn't tease or needle like miyuki. he just enjoys spending time with furuya in his own, quiet way, and he thinks that maybe furuya enjoys spending time with him too.
especially after that reaction. talk about cogs turning--haruichi almost watches the process as he realizes that he is, in fact, holding his hand. though his own face is burning red, enough that he can feel it in his ears, haruichi can't help but smile in spite of himself. his hand is big compared to haruichi's, fingers long where his are short and delicate, but their callouses match, and the warmth he's feeling isn't just coming from the peacot wrapped around him.
as their fingers thread together, haruichi ends up ducking his nose further into the big scarf. he hasn't really addressed these feelings yet, just knows that they happened and that they're there, and maybe, just maybe, they're returned. he gives his hand a squeeze, and his tone is nothing but warm. ]
I think so too.
no subject
Eijun is loud, and while they enable one another at times and their rivalry fuels their friendship, he always finds himself tired after some one-on-one time with the other pitcher. He admires Miyuki, even if he finds him to be frustrating when he grins that self-satisfied grin of his, gets irritated with his teasing. Both of them are easy to ignore, when they're doing or saying something he doesn't want to deal with.
But the one person that he truly admires is Haruichi. People underestimate him constantly because of his size, because of how he looks, but if anyone on this team is a prodigy it's him. Pitching is all he ever wants to do, is the thing that satisfies him most, challenges him most, but there's always a sort of thrill when he and Harucchi practice together. There's a brilliant mind hidden behind all that cotton candy-colored hair, and he can feel the hard work he puts into everything he does by the press of their hands together, matching callouses.
Most of all, though, being with him is nice. They don't have to talk - although it's easiest, out of everyone on the team, for him to talk to Haruichi, because he's patient as he thinks of how to string his responses together - and there's no pressure. A little teasing, but lighthearted rather than that familiar needling. Haruichi is gentle and welcoming, but that doesn't change the fact he's power, a storm, neatly packed away in porcelain.
So while he doesn't know what to do, Furuya does know what this feeling is. And if they're holding hands... ]
Kominato-kun?
no subject
but haruichi's not scared of him at all. he finds furuya hopelessly endearing most of the time--even when he's scolding him for falling asleep in practice because it's hot, even when he's ignoring eijun or miyuki. he's never found him difficult to understand, or even scary, mostly because he was quick to figure out that his friend just didn't know how to do a lot of things socially, and if anyone could emphasize with that, it was haruichi. he knows what it's like to be picked on (what quiet and shy kid with pink hair wouldn't?) and he knows, if he hadn't had his big brother? he probably would have turned out much the same as furuya.
so it's easy for him to be quiet with him. it's easy for their silences to lapse into companionable, easy for him to communicate with him with just a look from behind his fringe. and it's easy to talk too, because haruichi will always be patient. he knows it's there, and he knows what's there is worth it.
as he speaks, haruichi looks up at him. his cheeks are still pink, half from the cold and half from holding furuya's hand, but he tilts his head to the side a little. ] Yes, Furuya-kun?
no subject
Not that Haruichi himself is going anywhere, considering the fact that their fingers are tangled together and their palms pressed close. He can feel where some of their callouses match, from handling a ball so often, but there are still differences. A pitcher and an infielder, and all their hard work is written on their hands. But that's not all that's there, in his delicate touch, because he's seen him practicing with that wooden bat of his late into the day, time and time again. And he has to wonder, what would happen if he used a metal bat, if he could send the ball flying further after all that time with the wooden one, after all the strength he's put into the wooden one. But there's something strangely satisfying, for someone who doesn't want their pitches to be hit, in hearing the crack of the ball meeting wood on the occasion that Satoru throws for Haruichi.
He wants to keep that. He wants to keep this companionship, and Haruichi's patience and cleverness, the easy way that they mesh. There's no stress or exhaustion, even when he's being scolded for falling asleep or pretending to eat so he can go practice faster. It's not often he wants things beyond his norm, but he figures - in a very simple way, really - that he can try. ]
Has this been a date? [ Do his cheeks flush with more color? A little, maybe. ]