Mihashi and Abe's ENTIRE FAMILY have an awkward time of it.

[no_hiding_place]

Who: Abe Takaya, Mihashi Ren, Abe Shun, with NPC appearances by Abe Misae & Abe Takashi
What: Mihashi visits the Abe household to confirm that Takaya is not, in fact, going to jump off of any bridges after accidentally posting this publicly instead of privately.
Where & When: Immediately after the above link was posted, at Abe’s house.
Warnings: Totally gay bro-hugs, interrupted ~moments~, misunderstandings, broken teacups, and parental talks. The stammer-speak also appears to be spreading. Via hand-holding. It’s an epidemic.



Mihashi had been waiting to see what Abe would say, hoping that a response would come since Abe had made his comment. The longer he’d waited, the more nervous about it he’d gotten, until there was a sort of sinking knot in his stomach while he checked and re-checked his friends list. When the post appeared, Mihashi’d taken one look at the subject line and skipped to the very end. Then he read the whole thing through at a breakneck speed, his brow creasing with worry and his breath getting short the more he read.

Abe-kun felt like this?

Always sensitive, Mihashi had thought of himself as someone who could guess a person’s emotions, who could usually tell what they were feeling under what circumstances, but this sudden revelation of Abe’s insecurity and, well, what read like a very familiar sort of self-loathing made Mihashi’s chest go tight and his fists clench. He typed a reply too quickly, bolted down the stairs, wrote a note for his mother saying he was going to Abe-kun’s and he might miss dinner, and then he was out the door like a shot.

He didn’t realize that he’d forgotten his coat until he was knocking on the door of Abe’s house, flushed and breathless and wind-ruffled from running. Mihashi decided he had to make sure that Abe understood what he’d been trying to say, no matter how hard it was to say out loud. Abe-kun probably needed all those things on that list, too. He had written earlier than an ace had to believe, and he believed that he and Abe weren’t such different personality types that building a partnership between them would be hopeless. Impatient, Mihashi knocked again, hopping from foot to foot in anticipation.

Misae cleaned her hands of the last little bits of the onion she’d been chopping, set the dish towel to the side and hurried to to open the door. “A-ah! Mihashi-kun! It’s good to see you.” She smiled and stepped back to let him into the house. “Taka’s upstairs in his room, but he won’t let anyone else in. He’s been locked in there all night, and won’t even come down for a snack.”

“I’m,” Mihashi said, nodding as he stumbled out of his shoes, “g-going up!” He gave Abe’s mom a quick bow, but scampered for the stairs without waiting for permission or the drink he knew she was likely to offer at any minute. Abe was upset, and that meant Abe needed someone he could rely on. Mihashi really, really wanted to be the person Abe could trust - as much as Abe wanted to be someone Mihashi could trust, it felt like.

At the top of the stairs, Mihashi tried the door to Abe’s bedroom, turning the knob a little too forcefully in his haste.

The force was enough to jar the lock, and the it flew into Abe’s room, with Mihashi attached to the doorknob, stumbling to regain his footing.

“That’s great,” Abe mumbled from under his covers, which were wrapped on top of him like a cocoon. Mihashi’s stumble was unmistakable. “Just what I need,” he added, finishing Mihashi to see me wrapped up like a child waiting out a thunderstorm in his head.

Abe pushed back his comforter and looked up to confirm his fears. Sure enough, there he was, staring wide eyed. Out of breath. Flushed-

“Did you come all the way over here without a jacket!?” he shouted.

Mihashi cringed from the boom in Abe’s voice but planted his heels and squared his shoulders. “G-getting here,” he blurted, “was more important!”

Mihashi closed the door behind him with smooth, deliberate movements. He took a deep breath. He crossed Abe’s room to the bed, and sat down on the edge of it carefully. He twisted, leaning his weight on his left hand (which pressed a dip into the mattress), and tipped his head so that he could look at Abe through that little window of blanket.

“I, I didn’t want you to, to, to be upset.” With a soft, frustrated sigh, Mihashi stole the edge of Abe’s comforter, wrestling with it until he could get it around his shoulders, too. Nevermind that this was Abe’s room, and that Abe probably wanted to be left alone. Mihashi wasn’t going to just let him be lonely and isolated. That was miserable, and Mihashi knew it was miserable, to think that you needed to be by yourself because you weren’t good enough to be with the people you wanted to please so badly. “So, -- t-talking, is, is, is why I came.”

Abe crawled out of his cocoon and sat next to Mihashi with his feet on the floor. “I’m surprised you even want to see me, let alone talk to me, after all that stupid stuff I wrote. You... weren’t supposed to see that.” Abe paused to frown - because Mihashi was shivering a little and his arms were still pink - then huffed and grabbed the comforter to wrap more tightly around his pitcher. “What are you gonna do if you catch a cold?” he mumbled, looking up occasionally to try and read Mihashi’s face. It was disappointingly unreadable, though Mihashi’s cheeks were getting pink around the edges. Abe figured it was because Mihashi was just warming up. He gave the blankets another yank and Mihashi was wrapped tight.

“I’m sorry you had to see... read that. I should have been more careful.”

Wriggling where he sat, Mihashi burrowed into his bundle of comforter and inched a little closer to Abe. Contact always helped, always made him feel more at ease and more connected to Abe, even when they were having trouble talking. Mihashi hunched up his shoulders and leaned in a little, bumping Abe’s shoulder with his own. It was a little affectionate nudge, that was all, and then Mihashi was sitting up straight again.

“I’m,” he started, frowning at a frayed bit of blanket where a little piece of down was threatening to get loose, “not.”

“Sorry, I mean. I’m not sorry.” Mihashi’s cheeks flared a little redder at the edges and he gave Abe another little shoulder-nudge. “I-if, if you hadn’t.. sent it, I, I, I wouldn’t know.” Quickly Mihashi glanced from the blanket up to Abe’s face, his expression sad and apologetic. I think we should explain to each other, he wanted to say, even though he couldn’t get his mouth to make the words.

“You’re not -- “ Mihashi’s voice wavered from his nerves, but he was determined. “-- not a f, f-failure at all.”

“You never reprimanded me,” Abe said. “You never...” Abe’s voice caught in his throat, suddenly mixing up all the things he wanted to say in his head. “I told you not to shake your head at me. I bullied you. I was trying to control you. It’s... not the same as the bullying from Hatake-kun. But-” Abe’s eyes lowered, and his hand drifted to Mihashi’s leg, where he let the back of his hand rest against his friend’s thigh, inconspicuously. His hand was searching for a source of warmth without him realizing it. “You never even mentioned how horrible it was of me. “Never even looked a little disappointed in me. All you did was...blame yourself. All you did, all you still do, is talk about how you...need to be better.”

Abe’s knuckles were brushing Mihashi’s leg as Abe got lost in his speech. “I’m waiting... for they day when you realize... what kind of person I am. I’m...”

Abe noticed his hand suddenly, and yanked it back into the safety of his own lap. “What if I can never learn to trust you?”

“I won’t, won’t let that happen,” Mihashi breathed. It was quiet and carefully said, as Mihashi struggled to keep his stammer out of his voice. “A-and, Abe-kun, you’re not... when I say, I mean, I’ve -- I did.”

Running his pitching hand through his hair, Mihashi looked from Abe’s hand to his face to his knee. “Those things, that I wrote -- were, we’re working on them, but -- we still,” he shrugged. “Aren’t there yet. But!” Mihashi clenched his jaw and swallowed hard, reaching over to take Abe’s hand like he’d done on the roof at lunch. Both of their hands were cold and a little clammy. “I believe in us, Abe-kun.”

Mihashi squeezed Abe’s hand, and his grip was strong even though his voice was weak. “We’ll, we’ll f-figure each -- other. Out.” Support was this part, where they could just be close to each other and share the same space and breathe in a steady matching rhythm. Mihashi didn’t let go of Abe’s hand, even though his own was starting to warm up.

“I...” Abe began, squeezing Mihashi’s hand tight for courage, “admire you. So much.” Abe ventured a glance directly at Mihashi’s face, which was faced back at him, intense and concentrating. “I’m embarrassed. That you saw me so weak and stupid, but. I’ll do my best to...”

Abe’s words drifted off for a moment, letting it sink in just how much their roles were reversed. Abe was so accustomed to being on guard for Mihashi’s breakdowns, and being available for damage control, and constantly reassuring him- why was it like this now? Ever since the injury, since his conversation with Haruna, since Mihashi started being focused on himself, training himself- since Abe had lost control of Mihashi.

He was feeling what it was like to not be in control.

It wasn’t like it was with Haruna. With Haruna, the tighter Abe held on, the more his pitcher slipped away from him. But with Mihashi, Abe had finally come to let his grip relax - probably when Mihashi said “I’ll get two more outs. Then I’ll be back.”

When the world decided to teach Abe he couldn’t be in control, the hard way.

Losing control had been hard for Abe. But this, he finally realized, was what it was about. When you can’t control everything yourself, you have to delegate it to others.

And trust them to be able to handle it accordingly.

“...be... the person you think I am.”

Mihashi was perfect. He was perfect, perfect, and it was all Abe could feel. Sure he ran around in the cold without his jacket, couldn’t put on weight when he needed to, overworked himself, only barely passed his tests-

-but Abe loved all that too. He quickly rubbed tears from the corner of his eyes. It felt like the day of the Mihoshi practice match all over again. Mihashi always shattering his guard to pieces. Always Mihashi.

“A-Abe-kun,” Mihashi said, worry on his face as he watched Abe wind up his own emotions like that. “Abe-kun, you’re not those things.” Weak, or miserable or pathetic or anything else Mihashi knew somebody might think when they were feeling like they’d let someone important to them down. Mihashi remembered the weight of Abe’s arm around his shoulders after the Bijou game, and how even though it hadn’t changed anything it had helped. Drawing in a trembling, nervous breath Mihashi shifted his weight where he was sitting next to Abe so that he could get one hand - the one that wasn’t holding Abe’s - around Abe’s shoulder. The span of Abe’s back was wide, and Mihashi was in a weird position to hold his hand and hug at the same time from beside him like that, but he bent his head down and touched his forehead to the line of Abe’s arm.

“I, I might not nn... know you well enough to, to say this, yet.” He squeezed Abe’s shoulder again, but didn’t lift his face up to look him in the eyes again just then. “But, I think, I think you work hard, a-and you’re really smart. Even though I’m irritating, you saw -- un, underneath. We, we have a lot to work on, but...”

“-- but we’ll learn! Each other,” Mihashi explained. “I didn’t, didn’t know you felt so much like me. So, so now that I know, it’ll be, r-really different.”

Mihashi sighed, just breathing, nuzzling his face against Abe’s shoulder and trying to figure out how he could say this, and how Abe could believe him if he did manage to get it out of his mouth in the first place. “I don’t -- want to be a, a, a battery with anybody else. I want to work with, with you, even if it’s -- it’s frustrating, and tough, I want to, with you.” Mihashi let go of Abe’s hand then, dropping his shoulder on that side. He turned, swinging his body around so he was facing the back wall and rose up onto his knees. Kneeling there, next to Abe, Mihashi leaned across and wrapped his arms around Abe’s neck again, so that he could give Abe a real, proper, full-on hug.

“I want what, what I wrote about, and -- to be friends, too. And, s-since I didn’t know how you, you felt before, I didn’t think it was... n-no, I didn’t think we had that much in com-- mon, but, we do.” Holding onto Abe helped. It made the words come more easily, even though they were strange things to say and maybe it wasn’t quite normal to say them like this, holding onto each other, but Mihashi knew he needed to say this, and that Abe needed to hear it. “When I -- can’t talk to you, wh-when it’s hard, it’s because I, I thought for sure, you’d, you’d, you’d realize what I was like and you’d h-hate me. But, I didn’t think you might, might be worrying about something like th-that, from me.”

Abe had flushed the moment Mihashi’s other hand had touched his shoulder. But now Mihashi was hugging him, really hugging him. He had held Mihashi’s hand, thrown an arm around his shoulder, and made contact briefly and in many places on Mihashi, but this-

This was special. Different. It was not something he did with other teammates. Heck, something he barely did with his mom. And when he did, it certainly didn’t...feel... anything like this. Abe wrapped his arms around Mihashi’s back, and suddenly felt a heaviness lift off of him. A weight that-

-was physical, it turned out, as Mihashi’s balance gave out, pushing Abe on his back on the bed. Abe felt Mihashi tense up on top of him, around him, but he didn’t let go. He squeezed Mihashi tighter.

“We’re both idiots,” Abe whispered, a grin on his face. “We can be idiots together.”

Abe’s hand suddenly grew tense, and he slid his hand up to the back of Mihashi’s neck.
“You’re hot!” Abe said, his usual...passion...back in his voice. “Did you really get sick already!?”

Mihashi gave a little warbling cry of surprise and scrunched up his nose. Abe’s hand on his neck was cool, and made his skin prickle with goosebumps all the way along his arms. “N-not sick!”

Arching his back, Mihashi stretched in the hug, rolling his shoulders and pointing his toes without trying to get away. The goosebumps wouldn’t go down, but to have a moment of calm, simple understanding together with Abe was soothing enough that Mihashi really didn’t have anything to complain about. “I just, ran really f-fast,” Mihashi admitted, glancing away from Abe’s face and then back to it. His smile was tiny and awkward and just a little lopsided, leaning more heavily to the left than the right side of his face. “I was, w-worried. About bridges!”

Mihashi settled back against Abe, then, the tension going out of him as he let himself just sort of enjoy this closeness. “S, Support,” he said. “This kind, is the, the, the best for me, I think. A-and we -- we’ve got it. So, less to, to be idiots about.”

More than just support, they were talking, and their breathing was even and in a similar rhythm. Rapport was getting easier. Even if Mihashi still didn’t have permission to shake his head, he was sure he’d get that - and he’d learn more about how Abe made the lead, so he wouldn’t have to feel like he was alone again. Mihashi gave Abe another squeeze, just to drive that thought home. Definitely not alone.

Abe had always thought that he was the only one who wanted things like this from his pitchers. Physical affection like this, it really was soothing. Made him remember what Shiga had said, back when they first met, about being one mind, one body. Abe felt a little wellspring of emotion rise up in his chest, and took it out on Mihashi’s hair.

“You-” he said, squeezing his eyes shut, scrubbing the back of Mihashi’s head with his hand, pressing Mihashi’s forehead to his own. “I like this kind of support too! I thought it was only... me.” Abe was feeling invigorated, and peaceful, and warm. And happy. “Thank you. Mihashi.”

Ooh, unlocked! Shun thought as he tried the knob of his older brother’s door. He’d been sent up with a tray of drinks for Takaya and Mihashi-san. If it was only Takaya he would have protested this chore more, but since Mihashi-san was here too Shun was glad to do it. Gingerly, he turned the knob and opened the door, careful not to spill anything.

“Takaya, Mihashi-san! Mom made tea for--” His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he took in the scene on Takaya’s bed, where Mihashi-san was… Mihashi-san was… on top of… and Takaya was… and they were both lying there on the bed! “S-sorry! I… I’ll just go!”

In his haste to leave, Shun pulled the door shut on the drinks in his other hand, spilling hot tea on himself and the floor as one cup and then the other crashed to the ground. Oh crap, oh crap; Takaya was really going to kill him now!

“Shun!” Abe shouted, shoving Mihashi up by his shoulder, suddenly red-faced. “It’s not-” It would have been easier if Shun was able to make the clean escape he’d wanted, but instead, Abe had a pitcher half-lying on top of him and a broken cup on the floor and a possibly scalded little brother. “Mi-Mihashi!” Abe said, urging his pitcher to move.

“O--touto-kun!” Mihashi stammered, awkwardly flailing for a bit before he managed to get untangled from Abe’s limbs and the blanket. “A- Are you, okay?” He was asking, but the surprise of having someone walk in on the hug and then hearing a mug break and knowing that tea was spilled, well, Mihashi’s question wasn’t really comprehensible considering the uneven tone and pitch of his voice as he went towards the doorway.

Mihashi crouched down automatically, picking up pieces of broken ceramic delicately, completely forgetting about the fact that he probably shouldn’t touch something broken or sharp without something covering his hands while Abe was around to watch. If Mihashi’d had his jacket, he probably would’ve used it to sop up the tea, he was so flustered from the quick upheaval of the atmosphere in the room.

Abe, though thoroughly startled, knelt down and put his hand on Mihashi’s shoulder, firm and warm. “Be careful,” he said, before looking up at his brother, and saying, in an entirely different tone of voice, “Go run cold water on your arm or something!”

For a long moment Shun couldn’t even move from the doorway, eyes darting from Takaya to Mihashi-san to the mess on the floor while his face turned as red as his scalded arm was going. He’d barely even registered the pain yet. But that unmistakable brusque tone in his brother’s voice jolted him out of it, making him cringe.

“Y-yes!” he shouted, voice too loud, before bolting down the hall toward the bathroom.

As Shun’s frantic footsteps faded down the hall, Abe grabbed his waste bin and dragged it over next to Mihashi. “Don’t put the pieces in your hand, put them here.”

Abe’s heart was beating so hard, he felt like Mihashi could have heard it if he held still for a moment. The shock of being discovered, the look on Shun’s face, it was all still fresh. And it was a battle for Abe to keep his hand steady as he helped put the last shard that was large enough to pick up in the trash.

Mihashi was trembling as he dropped the shards he’d collected into the wastebin, careful to shake his hands over it rather than brush them off, for fear of getting a scratch on his palm or his fingers. “Y-your,” he said, “your brother -- o, okay?”

It worried Mihashi, not that Shun had seen anything because they’d just been reassuring each other (Mihashi hadn’t really thought through how it must have looked yet), but that Abe hadn’t run after Shun to make sure his arm would be all right. Shun admired Tajima-kun, so he probably wanted to be cleanup, and if his arm had been hurt it could be a real problem for him. “Ch-check!”

Mihashi’s voice was urgent, as he looked up at Abe, a little bewildered. Abe was more worried about Mihashi’s hands, more worried about that than his brother, and it made Mihashi feel both suddenly too warm and guilty. He was taking so much of Abe’s attention, and he still didn’t feel like he’d given him enough in return. “I’ll -- find a, a, to clean this, so -- you should, should, s-should,” Mihashi made a sudden frustrated sound, upset that the surprise was making it harder to talk. He’d been doing so much better before, when it was just the two of them, and they’d been connecting physically, too.

“Taka!” Misae dashed up the stairs at the sound of crashing dishes. The puddle of tea was obvious, and she frowned at Mihashi and Abe, and then down the hall at the closed bathroom door. “What happened here?” She pulled her best ‘serious mother’ face, staring down at her eldest son.

“Shun!” Abe said, half-yelped because of his mother’s glare, which, despite his posturing, he was not impervious to. “Shun dropped the tea.”

“He’s,” Mihashi blurted, pointing down the hall, “water, over it!” Whether or not Misae’s maternal instincts would be enough to decipher Mihashi’s babbling wasn’t entirely clear, but Mihashi couldn’t think of anything else to say. He gestured a little awkwardly at the floor, miming pushing a vacuum or maybe sopping up the tea with a towel, or maybe both at once. He looked from Abe to Abe’s mother, to the bathroom door down the way, his expression one of distress.

Misae took a moment to glance around, getting her bearings. She sighed softly and beckoned to Mihashi. “Mihashi-kun, would you please go to the kitchen and get me a dish towel? And, Takaya, why aren’t you in the bathroom, making sure your little brother is alright? I didn’t expect you to be so cruel.” Again that maternal glare that Takaya was probably never going to entirely get used to. “Go. Now.”

“Tsch,” Abe bit out, earning a more pointed glare from his mother. That look ran in the family, after all. He gave Mihashi a quick, unclear look, and shuffled down the hall to check on his brother, as ordered.

Mihashi was already scrambling down the stairs, wasting a lot of energy in the way he took the corner into the kitchen. It took him longer than it should have to find and pick a towel (or three), and by the time he returned Abe was already down the hall and out of sight. “S-sorry,” he said to Abe’s mother, dropping to his knees in the doorway and starting to sop up the tea that had spilled.

The look she gave him was nowhere near as pointed or irritated as the one she’d been in the process of giving her son’s back. Misae knelt too, taking one of the extra towels and carefully sweeping up the last tiny shards of shattered porcelain, along with the warm tea. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Mihashi-kun.”

Down the hall, Abe was knocking on the washroom door, a little harder than he should.
“Oi, Shun. Let me in.”

Shun stared at his terrified reflection in the bathroom mirror, heart in his throat as his brother demanded to be let in. The last thing he wanted was to face Takaya after walking in on something so private.

“I… I’m fine!” he called through the door, shutting off the water long enough for Takaya to be able to hear him. In a small voice, he added, “So you can go away now, please.”

Takaya scoffed, pushing the door open anyway.
“Don’t be a brat, and let me see your arm.” Abe waltzed in with no consideration for Shun at all, and grabbed his little brother’s wrist. Shun winced when Takaya yanked his arm, but Takaya just sighed, relieved. “It’s fine,” he said. The skin on the inside of his forearm was red, but not very raised, and so he recognized that it wasn’t very serious. “Run it under cold water for ten more minutes, then put an ice pack on it and raise it.” He looked Shun in the face. “Do you feel okay, then?”

“I said I was fine!” Shun repeated, though the slight tremor in his voice said otherwise. It wasn’t the burn that was making him feel weird though; it was more the shock of seeing his brother and Mihashi-san in such a private moment. He tried to meet Takaya’s eyes, but it was so hard. “W-what about you?” Deflecting the question seemed like the best way to take Takaya’s attention off him.

Takaya blinked. “What about me?” He frowned, and let go of his brother’s hand. “I’m fine, what exactly did you think was wrong with me?” He wasn’t the one who’d gotten burned, after all. What exactly was Shun thinking?

“Nothing! I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being gay! I mean! I’m not like the bullies at school, so-I won’t tell or tease you or anything! Promise!” Shun’s voice was getting louder and louder as he talked and by the time he ran out of steam he was bracing for the worst; the more he talked the bigger the hole he was digging himself into.

Together, Mihashi and Misae made relatively quick work of the mess. Mihashi helped carry the towels to the laundry room, where together they shook the little shards of porcelain out of the fabric and into another wastebin before dropping the towels into the wash. Mihashi wondered how Shun and Abe were doing, and if Shun’s arm would be okay, but rather than worry Abe’s mother about it, he just told her a little awkwardly that if she needed any more help with anything, she should just call. It came out, “If -- h-help, I’ll, I’ll, un!”

With that, Mihashi nodded and bolted back up the stairs to Abe’s room, risking a glance toward the bathroom on his way.

“WHA-” Takaya managed to yelp out, before clamping a hand on Shun’s mouth. His heart rate rose dramatically, terrified at his little brothers utterly ridiculous implications. “Don’t...don’t shout things like that!” He lowered his voice instantly, taking his own advice. “Someone could hear! And besides...No! That’s not...what you saw! That’s ridiculous!” Abe’s face was bright red now, furious and embarrassed. “I can’t believe you’d think-” though, now that he replayed the moment in his head, he actually did.

“Anyway... no. I’m not. That. Okay? So...stop thinking...that.” Takaya gave Shun, who was nodding furiously, one firm glare, though it wasn’t as firm as he’s like it to have been, and stormed out of the bathroom.

He came out red-faced, but determined to get back in his room and away from Shun and his...implications. As he passed his mother in the hall, he mumbled “‘e’s fine,” and made for the doorknob of his room. But he turned, then, and called after her, “Mom, can Mihashi and I have our dinner in my room, please?” He paused. “So we can talk. About baseball.” Leaving out also so Shun doesn’t stare at us all meal.

His mother stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide what he was really asking, and then just shrugged. “Of course. I’ll have your father bring it up to you when it’s ready.”

Abe let out a sigh and opened the door, finding Mihashi perched carefully and seiza-style on his bed. He ran his hand through his hair, and, closing the door behind him, said, “Shun’s okay. His arm’s a little red, but it’s not scalded or anything.” He sat next to Mihashi and leaned back on his arms, glancing at Mihashi for conversational direction as the silence went on a touch too long.

“I’m,” Mihashi started, taking a deep breath, “I’m glad. He’s, he’s okay, but also --!”

Mihashi’s wobbly almost-smile returned, and he looked from where his fists were on top of his knees up to Abe’s face. “That you’re, okay. That it, it, it helped. Because, we should -- “ Mihashi’s voice faltered there, and he shifted his shoulders. One shoulder crept up, and then the other, and then they were down again before they started the creeping over again. Mihashi was still a little nervous, still flustered from the incident with the tea, but while Abe and Shun were talking he’d had some time to build up his resolve. “T-talk about, the, the batt...ery.”

“I think,” he added, just to be sure he wasn’t too forceful.

“S...sure,” Abe said. “We should... I should respond to your post properly, I guess.” He saw Mihashi fidgeting, and reached over to put a hand on one of his pitcher’s fists. “It’s easier for you to talk if I do this,” he clarified what this was with a squeeze, “right?”

Mihashi turned his fist over under Abe’s hand, unclenching it so he could return the squeeze with one of his own. He nodded. “Y-yeah!”

“But, be, before you... I want to make sure you, you got... what I was trying to say,” Mihashi said, keeping his hold firm on Abe’s hand. He took a few moments, just breathing and collecting his thoughts, and wondering how much it was okay for him to talk about the post he wasn’t supposed to even see. “I, tried to tell you what.. we need to work on, but, I know you’re, you’re, you’re already working hard on those things. So, you should know that, that I -- I know you’re trying! That’s why, I --”

Mihashi sighed. “I wanted to say, to say good things, mostly.”

Abe found his cheeks warming, and he nodded. “I understand,” he said. “I was... I think I was comparing myself to Haruna. In... bad ways, and...that’s why that entry was so...unreasonable. That’s why I wished you hadn’t seen it. But. “ Abe’s breathing had grown coarse, and he wondered if the room was getting too hot. “I guess it was okay, because now I understand properly.”

Abe inhaled loudly, and rubbed his thumb over one of Mihashi's knuckles.

"So," he began, hand shaking a little, suddenly. "Trust." He looked up into Mihashi’s eyes. “You know... that I know it was wrong. For me to tell you not to shake your head. And now...you should. I’ll listen to you. T...trust you. I didn’t... realize you would trust me. Because Haruna wouldn’t... didn’t try-”

Abe paused, frowning at himself when he realized how much he was comparing Mihashi to Haruna. And how totally unfair it was, because Mihashi was totally different. But he didn’t know that, at first. He had only come to learn it later.

“- You’re not like Haruna! Mihashi.” Abe tensed up, remembering now that Mihashi actually liked Haruna, and maybe he should pick his words more carefully. “I mean, you trusted me from the beginning. And I didn’t see that. But... I know that I... can trust you to contribute to the pitch calls. You...have to. So. Please. Shake your head at me...”

He steeled himself for what he was about to say, “both...on the mound. And off.

“I’ll work hard...to listen patiently, and understand why. If you do.”

A visible shiver of surprise and delight raced up Mihashi’s spine. He nodded vigorously, which probably was the wrong response to being told he ought to shake his head, but he wasn’t thinking about that just yet. “B-but, I -- trust you a lot, so, only when I’m not, not sure,” Mihashi said. “H-Hatake-kun never, with signs, so I know that on, on my own, I’m not, not any good … with it.”

Mihashi squeezed Abe’s hand again lightly, enjoying the reassuring friction of Abe’s thumb over his knuckles. “S-so, I want... to, to learn more. About how.” Mihashi’s shoulders fell a little, and he glanced off to one side - to where the teacup had shattered earlier. “Because, your lead is, is, is really amazing. I, I want to un, under -- stand it.”

“Th-that’s trust, and, and talking, too!” Rapport was going to be the hardest, Mihashi knew, and he thought it was all his fault. He had to trust Abe not to get angry. Abe as listening now, and holding his hand, and promising to keep listening, so if Mihashi could just manage to talk, they’d probably be able to manage. So long as Mihashi could talk.

“You’ll understand!” Abe said, leaning forward. “I’ll make sure of it. We can meet together and I’ll teach you. I’ll... be patient. When you’re trying to understand. I’ll explain it as many times as you need me to. If you’re going to try. I’ll try too.” Abe was concerned that Mihashi’s gaze had drifted, so he leaned forward, a little awkwardly, to try and catch it.

Mihashi jolted a little when Abe leaned forward, eyes darting back to him. “I’ll study, the -- data, too, so,” he paused for a moment, struck by the intent look on Abe’s face. “So, you can rely on me, more.”

Mihashi nodded again, more to himself than to Abe, and that big, warm smile of his blossomed across his face. “But, I’ll, support you like, like this, too,” he said, flaring his fingers out against Abe’s hand. “Even, if we -- we have trouble, with, talking, we can... I mean, I think we... understand, this part. So, it helps. Is that... right?”

Abe blushed, hand feeling hot and heavy against Mihashi’s. This part. Abe had been trying to shut out the weird thoughts since Shun he accosted Shun, but Mihashi was being really insistent about the... touching. And Abe was starting to become very conscious of it. Mihashi was smiling. He was smiling that nice smile.

The one Abe wasn’t admitting that he hoped was just for him.

This was...support, right? Mihashi had mentioned it in his post, but. This suggestion that they should talk with their bodies when words were failing... it seemed a little...

...romantic?

Abe’s face got redder. This was ridiculous.

“Right,” he said, voice a note higher than usual.

“I, I mean,” Mihashi struggled to find the right words, sensing the changing tension in the air. “We both, we both want to work hard for each other, so, even, even if we c-can’t say the right thing, we know that’s -- that, that’s the reason!”

Mihashi could feel that Abe’s hand was starting to sweat, and wondered if he wasn’t being too needy. His fingers curled automatically around Abe’s palm at the thought, but then Mihashi forced himself to let go and rubbed the back of his neck, self-conscious. “I’ll try to be, to be strong anyway. So you don’t have to be, em-- barrassed. About it. I’ll try to be, to be clear so you don’t... have to.”

Mihashi shrugged up one shoulder again. “What, what can I do to … to do better, too?”

“You...” Abe said, throat suddenly dry. He really did like holding Mihashi’s hand, even if it was weird. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone was there to judge them!

Like his stupid, misunderstanding brother.

But what made Mihashi change his mind, and take his hand away? Maybe he was wondering the same thing Shun had.

No. Mihashi said he wanted to be touched. And Abe was going to trust him. Abe reached over and grabbed Mihashi’s arm, pulling him toward his body. After an ungraceful disentanglement of his own limbs, Mihashi found himself with his hand in Abe’s again, and his body pressed against Abe’s arm.

“...you already know what you need to do!” Abe said, face burning. “But...be...honest. And tell me... when I’m being cruel. When I’m doing something wrong.” His hand tightened around Mihashi’s. “Rapport means... two people communicating...harmoniously. So... you have to criticize me...when I deserve it.” He inhaled. “If you don’t...I won’t know when I’m hurting you! So don’t be afraid. Of me. And... I’ll do my best to...not make you afraid.”

Mihashi yelped in surprise when Abe grabbed him and tugged him in close, but he settled quickly, relaxing at the warm, reassuring solidity of Abe against his side. To hear Abe talk so slowly, like he wasn’t quite sure of where he was going made Mihashi feel less awkward. He wasn’t the only one who worried about what to say, or how to say it.

“I’ll tell you,” Mihashi said, in a soft low voice like some kind of secret promise. “Even, e-even if I’m -- n-no, because you won’t... you won’t hate me, right?” Mihashi looked up at Abe with disarming uncertainty in his eyes, his face getting red just from having to ask the question. “The, the thing I”m al, always afraid of, is that... I’ll say something and, and it’ll make you hate me.”

It was a miserable thing to admit to, and Mihashi was ashamed of it. He wanted to believe that he and Abe were going to be good friends, because they’d both said more than once it was what they wanted. He was going to work hard to trust that no matter what he said, Abe wouldn’t just suddenly hate him, or stop giving him signs, or decide he wasn’t worth the trouble as a pitcher and get rid of him. “Being, being scared of that makes me... stupid,” Mihashi confessed. “I can’t talk or think, or, or anything.”

Abe’s heart began to beat faster again when he detected Mihashi sinking into the memories of what it was like to be abandoned by his catcher. And he wasn’t going to let him go under. He pulled Mihashi around and wrapped his arms around Mihashi’s shoulders. It was not...the best hug. Abe wasn’t doing it quite right, but then again, it’s not like he’d had much practice.

“I’m not Hatake,” Abe whispered into Mihashi’s ear. “I won’t ever hate you. Sometimes you’re irritating, and sometimes you’re hard to understand, but you’re still a... great guy. Okay? And you’re not stupid. You’re not stupid for being afraid. I wish I could make you not...think I would do that. But...” Abe shifted his arms so they went under Mihashi’s, properly, and wrapped them around his back. “...it happened to you before. You-”

Abe grit he teeth and shut his eyes hard. It always worked him up to think of how much loneliness Mihashi had endured. He didn’t even realize how he was rubbing his face into Mihashi’s shoulder. “I’ll work hard to make you not afraid of me leaving anymore, okay!

“I’ll make sure... you know. That you believe it. That you believe me.”

“Abe-kun,” Mihashi sighed, tentatively wrapping his arms around Abe’s neck, “isn’t like, Hatake-kun at all.” When he was at Mihoshi, it wasn’t like Mihashi hadn’t spent a lot of time relatively close to Hatake. Hatake had towered over him, had backed him up against walls and lockers, had gotten into his personal space in order to intimidate him. Hatake had done those things because Mihashi had made Hatake hate him, but there’s always been something a little intimidating about him. Abe, though, Abe had always tried to be gentle from the start, even when he got frustrated and irritable. Even Abe’s noogies weren’t intimidating, and they sort of made Mihashi feel like Abe was frustrated but still cared about him. Affectionate noogies, if that made any sense.

Mihashi relaxed in the hug, even though he knew that Abe must not really be comfortable with it, from Shun’s reaction earlier, and the look on his face, and the way Abe had come back to the room all red and sort of awkward. Mihashi couldn’t help feeling better when they were holding onto each other, though. Being this close made it almost impossible for Mihashi to build up his walls of insecurity to hide behind. “I, I know that. I’ll try not to, to make you angry, or to say confusing things.”

Mihashi was mumbling against Abe’s hair, enjoying the feel of Abe’s breath against his ear and the warmth of Abe’s arms around him. This was comfortable. Was it too comfortable? Was it really okay to be getting so, well, dependent on each other for this kind of close reassurance? Mihashi wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t pull away, even if he’d wanted to. “I’m, I’m happy,” Mihashi said. “To learn about, about your lead. Can, can you maybe show me some, tonight? I want to, to see how much I’ve gotta learn, and -- and understand how much work... I’ve been, making you do a-- alone.”

Abe shivered. Suddenly, the line had been crossed. All at once, verything was electric. And dangerous. Crossed from plausible deniability into stuff the paparazzi take pictures of for tabloid covers.

Abe’s lips were this close to Mihashi’s ear, and Mihashi’s face was in his hair. Mihashi was limp and yielding and happy. If they were a boy and girl, well...this wasn’t...

...okay.

And what....what did Mihashi just say? Out of context, it actually sounded like...like...
...seduction?

Instead of jerking away, Abe’s arms contracted around Mihashi’s body a little. What if Shun was right? It wasn’t like he didn’t like this. He did. And...probably too much. But Mihashi had no idea. He couldn’t. Seductive was definitely not part of the Mihashi Ren repertoire. Sweet, gentle, innocent, determined... those were. But Mihashi was just...melting into him. Abe’s face was burning. He knew if they didn’t draw the line somewhere... he might end up doing something he’d regret.

He was a teenager, after all.

“Mi....hashi,” Abe said carefully. “I don’t think... maybe not...tonight.” He leaned back and looked Mihashi in the eyes. Their faces were still too close, arms still wrapped around one another. But Abe could still draw the line. For tonight. “We’ve done a lot, right? We talked a lot. And it’s getting late. We can work on learning about the lead tomorrow.” The uncertain look on Mihashi’s face gave him pause.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be okay now. I won’t jump off any bridges. I promise.” He punctuated it with a little grin, just to prove his sincerity. And a brush of his hand through Mihashi’s bangs.

For good measure.

Mihashi had been so excited to learn more that he’d sort of forgotten himself. Abe’s hesitation reminding him that he was, well, just visiting Abe’s place because he’d been worried. This hadn’t been planned, and obviously Abe had other things to do, and he felt kind of dumb and selfish again, for demanding Abe teach him such a big important thing all at once. He’d been about the apologize, but then Abe was smiling and his hand was in Mihashi’s hair. Getting his bangs ruffled made Mihashi’s shoulders hitch up and his nose crinkle. He laughed, bright and easy, and squeezed his eyes closed, pulling his hands back from around Abe’s neck to hide behind them.

It made him feel like a little kid again, which was happy and comfortable, but he knew it’d make his face go all red, and the giggling sound he’d been unable to keep from making was embarrassing. “Abe-kun!” he managed, peeking out, “If you jump of a bridge, I won’t -- I won’t for-give, you.”

Mihashi jolted bolt upright, then, visibly remembering something. “We should -- tell your mom, I won’t be staying for, for dinner! After all!” He flopped off of Abe’s bed and onto the floor before getting his feet under him. He didn’t want to impose any more, making her cook too much … even if it could be used in bento for the next day.

Abe stood up after Mihashi. “Don’t worry, you’ll have lots of opportunities to try mom’s dinners,” he said, getting a little excited himself at what their friendship had progressed to. Mihashi would have to come back. They had strategy to discuss. Abe guided his pitcher out of the room with his hand on his back, and as they headed down the stairs, Abe remembered something. “Hey. You’re not going to walk home, are you? Without a jacket?”

Mihashi’s immediate instinct was to deny it, even though it was obviously stupid and impossible for him to get home without walking and he hadn’t brought a jacket in the first place. He looked suspicious and guilty, fidgeting and wringing his hands together, until he finally choked out, “... Y...es? I-- for, forgot it, so, I... have to?”

He looked with stricken anxiety up at Abe. He’d told the truth, because he was trusting Abe not to get mad, and that was a step forward, right? But he also knew he’d given the wrong answer, and that Abe wouldn’t be happy with that, either. Mihashi’s life was full of complicated decisions like this. “I’ll take a, a hot bath when I get home? So, I won’t be cold?”

It was a ridiculous solution. Other options included borrowing Abe’s jacket (but then Abe wouldn’t have one in the morning, and it would probably be too big anyway, and Abe probably didn’t want to loan out his jacket) or bothering Abe’s parents for a ride, which seemed like way too much of an imposition for Mihashi to even really think of them.

“That’s ridiculous,” Abe said, opening the door to the kitchen. “I’ll ask- Dad!” he called, turning in to see his father sitting at the table, not with a beer in his hand yet, thank God, “can I ask you a favor, please?”

Takashi had been just about to go get a beer! But he looked up pleasantly from his baseball game to look his son up and down. “What favor?”

“Can you drive Mihashi home? He went and walked over here without a coat.”

Takashi lifted an eyebrow, managing to convey ‘you let him do that?’, amusement at Takaya’s pitcher-troubles and vague disdain for Takaya’s ability to get his pitcher to do anything, all at once. “Sure. But you shouldn’t let Mihashi do things like that. You’re too selfish, Taka.”

“I-” Takaya started. “Me?” He squared his shoulders. “Let?” He almost got up the nerve to say something like it’s not like I’m his mother or something!, but a quick recollection make him realize even he couldn’t actually tell the difference sometimes.

“A-Abe-kun!” Mihashi blurted out, suddenly distressed, “Scolded me, for, for forgetting it!” Okay, so maybe after complaining about not being Mihashi’s mother, using a word like ‘scolding’ wasn’t a good choice, but Mihashi was doing his best to defend his catcher’s diligent care. “It was, was my fault, so, don’t -- p-please don’t give him a hard time?”

It was the most Mihashi had managed to say to Abe’s father ever in his life, and immediately made Mihashi feel overwhelmed and sheepish. He couldn’t look at Abe or his dad, so he glanced around, anxiously, looking for Abe’s mother so that he could apologize for, well, anything. Everything, more likely.

Takashi let out a sigh and stood, stretching. “You shouldn’t get yourself so worked up over him, Mihashi-kun. He can sulk a little longer while you get your jacket next time.” He dropped a big hand on Mihashi’s shoulder, and began guiding him back towards the door. “Taka, in that case, help your mother by setting the table while I’m gone.”

Abe took a deep breath, tempted to be indignant, but aware that his father was doing him a favor, veiled in antagonism as it was. “Yeah,” he settled on, moving toward the cabinet. “Mihashi, get some rest when you get home,” he added.

“A-all right!” Mihashi felt like the weight of Abe’s father’s hand was anchoring him to the floor, so even though he wanted to go apologize to Misae for leaving earlier and foiling her probable dinner plans, he didn’t budge. He looked up at Takashi with wide, uncertain eyes and for all the world gave the impression of someone who was being thoroughly, mercilessly bullied. “Th-thanks,” he said, voice getting all soft and warbly, “for the, the, the ride? A-and, I’m -- sorry -- the jacket, and, a-and dinner, and -- teacup!”

“Eh? Oh, that. Don’t worry about it! We have plenty of teacups.” If Takashi noticed that Mihashi was getting even more shy than usual, he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. He moved Mihashi with the guiding hand around Takaya and towards the outside. “Taka,” he called over his shoulder, “apologize to your mother for causing her so much trouble. And apologize to your pitcher tomorrow.” As though Mihashi wasn’t even there!

This time, Abe did not make an attempt to hide his indignancy. “Tsch,” he bit out. Which, obvious to everyone but Mihashi, meant yes, father. He gave Mihashi a small wave and finally turned his back to the other men in the room, grabbing a stack of plates from the cabinet.

Mihashi looked, somewhat bewildered, from Abe to Abe’s father, until Abe half-waved and turned around. “Aah,” Mihashi said, realizing his time to actually say goodbye had gone, and that it would be totally awkward if he tried to say anything now, and Abe’s father was already herding him toward the door, anyway. Mihashi half-stumbled, getting into his shoes, but managed to right himself through an impressive series of wiggly movements, and made another little strangled sound before getting pushed right out the door. “You, uhm -- I --”

Mihashi had considered for a brief moment, once the cool evening air hit him, telling Takashi that it was really fine if he walked home and he didn’t want to cause any trouble. That suggestion died in his throat the moment that he turned around and actually saw Takashi on the doorstep, looking huuuuuuuuuugeeeeee as ever.

If Takashi had any inkling as to how Mihashi saw him, he clearly didn’t care. He slipped his shoes on and strode over to the car, expecting Mihashi to follow. “You should forgive Taka, Mihashi-kun. He’s terrible with friends. And worse with his pitchers! Haruna-kun was a good guy, and Taka never even tried. I’m glad he’s at least trying with you.”

Mihashi jolted at the mention of Haruna, and carefully considered what kind of response he should give as he followed Takashi to the car. He climbed in, awkwardly folding his legs into the front seat in a way that made him manage to look gangly and uncomfortable even though there was really plenty of leg-room. “A-Abe-kun... works, really hard,” he said, not quite managing to sound like he was protesting. He clutched his hands up in the front of his shirt, looking down at them and completely forgetting that maybe, possibly, Abe’s father might need directions to know where he was supposed to be taking Mihashi. “He’s, he’s trying, and -- so am I!”

Takashi made a mostly non-committal sound, watching Mihashi out of the corner of his eye. “You really like Taka, do you, Mihashi-kun?”

For once, Mihashi knew the answer. He nodded, furiously. It made his hair flap in weird directions, and the seatbelt caught against his chest like it thought he was going to nod his way straight through the wind-shield.

After a moment, Takashi nodded, satisfied and slapped Mihashi’s back lightly. Well, lightly for him. “Good. Don’t give up on him. He’s too stupid to know what’s good for him. Now, how do I get to your house?”

The slap on the back forced a strangled “gu!” out of Mihashi’s throat, and he sank back into the car seat, glancing around nervously before he pointed down the road toward the direction of his house. “A-and then,” Mihashi said as he wiggled his hand in a way that indicated left, and then right, and then straight on a ways further. “A-about fifteen minutes! Walking,” he explained. “Not far!”

Well, far if he’d been walking it without a jacket at night, but not in a car. Which was heated.

“I’ll have you home in no time!” Takashi nodded once and took off in the direction indicated. He, unlike his son, clearly understood when Mihashi said things. “It’s too bad you couldn’t stay for dinner. Misae was going to make something truly delicious for you! I don’t think Taka’s feeding you enough.”

“I, I eat!” Mihashi could feel himself getting warm on the back of his neck, embarrassed to have Abe’s dad ripping on Abe and the way he took care of him. Mihashi already felt like he asked for too much from Abe, so to have Takashi imply that Abe wasn’t doing enough felt weird. “He’s always, always making sure I get extra onigiri and, and I just, I don’t -- gain weight, easily.” Mihashi shrugged, squirming in his chair and watching out the passenger-side window to see the houses go by, anxious. Abe’s family seemed really nice, but they were also sort of intimidating. Mihashi really wanted them all to like him, because he wanted to be Abe’s pitcher for a long time, so he hoped they didn’t think he was weird, or dumb, or a bad pitcher.

“I’m try.. ing, to eat more, but -- even when I, a lot of -- I don’t get bigger.” Mihashi glanced over at Takashi’s belly. Maybe this wasn’t something he could imagine.

“Tch.” Pitchers were always smaller, but still. Takashi shrugged slightly. “Still. He should take care of you, or you’ll collapse during a game. And it will be his fault. But I just want you to forgive him if he’s not so good at taking care of you yet. His hearts in the right place, but he’s a little dumb.” Takashi turned down Mihashi’s street, going a little too fast to stop that the proper house. mostly because he didn’t know which was the proper house.

“H-house!” Mihashi yelped, startled when he saw the yard pass a little too quickly. He hadn’t been paying close enough attention. “I’ll, I’ll walk back!” he said, fumbling to get his seatbelt un-buckled in a way that screamed, danger, finger-jam imminent. Somehow, though, Mihashi and his flexible fingers managed to unlatch the seat-belt and get out of the car without injury. “Th-thanks, for the ride!”

Bowing to Takashi from the side of the car, Mihashi slammed the door, turned on his heel, and dashed for the familiar safety of his own house. He felt... better. Less nervous about Abe, and about what he’d said to him, more confident that they’d be able to reach their goals as a battery, and completely relieved to have made it through alone-time with Abe-papa without making a complete fool of himself. Probably without making a complete fool of himself, that is.