chromatic_coma (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chromatic_coma) wrote2016-02-11 09:52 pm
chromatic_coma) wrote2016-02-11 09:52 pm
Entry tags:
daichi/asahi + "kiss on the forehead"
When you're the captain, it's your job to hold the team up; Daichi lives by this simple tenet as readily as he breathes. There is no room in his mind for shades of grey, for second guesses, or for doubts. He knows those are the cracks in through which insecurities start to seep. And he's lucky, to have the determination to back that. Asahi looks at Daichi, who is smaller than he is, and envies his strength nonetheless.
Asahi spends a lot of time looking at Daichi, and not all of it is in comparison to himself. He sees little of himself that's like Daichi, after all, and that's a good thing: the team probably doesn't need two Daichis, and it definitely doesn't need two of him.
That's why he can't help but wish it was him who was hurt against Wakunan. It's a useless thing to wish, because the match is over, and they've won; Daichi isn't even hurt, beyond the missing tooth and the bruise consuming his cheek. And he's so proud of the tooth thing, too, probably, because his smile is wide enough to show off the gap where it used to be. The more Asahi looks, the more he feels like their roles have been swapped. Daichi is the fragile one. He's the one being relied on. (Except not even, because it was Ennoshita who stepped up. He's going to be a good captain, even though he's never going to be Daichi).
Asahi knows better than to voice any of these gut churning thoughts, especially not before their next match, but apparently Daichi also knows better. He punches Asahi solidly in the gut as they're headed down to warm up, letting the rest of the team rush on ahead of them .
“Whatever you're thinking about, it stops now,” he commands, his voice firm and steady. “The team needs you in fighting form, Ace.”
“Maybe,” Asahi agrees reluctantly, his voice trailing off. He doesn't tack on the rest of the thought, 'Not as much as we need you.' “It's just all hitting me now, I guess. During the match I didn't have time to worry, so now...”
His hands start shaking, and it belatedly strikes him how scared he was, watching Daichi go down, his too-big hands entirely powerless.
Daichi's touch is firm on his cheek, but it's heavy with affection. “Asahi, I'm right here,” he reminds him. There's a poorly suppressed laugh in his voice. “Only you would cry over someone after you've seen they're okay.”
'You're not okay,' Asahi thinks, eyeing the mottled skin of his cheek. He hates that Daichi is right about the crying, when he realizes his eyes are burning. With a heavy sigh, Asahi tilts his head down, presses his lips firm to Daichi's forehead. He keeps them there, tastes the salt of Daichi's skin, feels the few small bumps from old acne scars.
Daichi laughs unhindered this time. “Karasuno would lose all respect if the other teams found out our ace was such a marshmallow,” he murmurs, hugging Asahi tightly nonetheless. Asahi pulls away from the kiss before he would have liked to, when the reminder that they were in public makes him feel anxious, but Daichi gives an extra squeeze before letting him go.
“Are you better now?” Daichi asks, and Asahi feels the Earth's axis tip back in the right direction. He is the one being looked after; all things are as they should be. “Ready for the next match?”
“Ready, Captain.”
Asahi spends a lot of time looking at Daichi, and not all of it is in comparison to himself. He sees little of himself that's like Daichi, after all, and that's a good thing: the team probably doesn't need two Daichis, and it definitely doesn't need two of him.
That's why he can't help but wish it was him who was hurt against Wakunan. It's a useless thing to wish, because the match is over, and they've won; Daichi isn't even hurt, beyond the missing tooth and the bruise consuming his cheek. And he's so proud of the tooth thing, too, probably, because his smile is wide enough to show off the gap where it used to be. The more Asahi looks, the more he feels like their roles have been swapped. Daichi is the fragile one. He's the one being relied on. (Except not even, because it was Ennoshita who stepped up. He's going to be a good captain, even though he's never going to be Daichi).
Asahi knows better than to voice any of these gut churning thoughts, especially not before their next match, but apparently Daichi also knows better. He punches Asahi solidly in the gut as they're headed down to warm up, letting the rest of the team rush on ahead of them .
“Whatever you're thinking about, it stops now,” he commands, his voice firm and steady. “The team needs you in fighting form, Ace.”
“Maybe,” Asahi agrees reluctantly, his voice trailing off. He doesn't tack on the rest of the thought, 'Not as much as we need you.' “It's just all hitting me now, I guess. During the match I didn't have time to worry, so now...”
His hands start shaking, and it belatedly strikes him how scared he was, watching Daichi go down, his too-big hands entirely powerless.
Daichi's touch is firm on his cheek, but it's heavy with affection. “Asahi, I'm right here,” he reminds him. There's a poorly suppressed laugh in his voice. “Only you would cry over someone after you've seen they're okay.”
'You're not okay,' Asahi thinks, eyeing the mottled skin of his cheek. He hates that Daichi is right about the crying, when he realizes his eyes are burning. With a heavy sigh, Asahi tilts his head down, presses his lips firm to Daichi's forehead. He keeps them there, tastes the salt of Daichi's skin, feels the few small bumps from old acne scars.
Daichi laughs unhindered this time. “Karasuno would lose all respect if the other teams found out our ace was such a marshmallow,” he murmurs, hugging Asahi tightly nonetheless. Asahi pulls away from the kiss before he would have liked to, when the reminder that they were in public makes him feel anxious, but Daichi gives an extra squeeze before letting him go.
“Are you better now?” Daichi asks, and Asahi feels the Earth's axis tip back in the right direction. He is the one being looked after; all things are as they should be. “Ready for the next match?”
“Ready, Captain.”