A/N: Thank you to 0blue-bird0, for unknowingly tickling my creativity. She posted the OTP headcanons with answers for ShinSena and I thought... I wanna give it a try, but with CHAPTERS! *w*
Headcanons: How was their first meeting? Who kissed who first? Who made the first move?
Riku was getting further and further away. Just a little bit more,a little bit more, and he'd catch up. Instead of feeling desperate, or like giving up, Sena felt a burst of anticipation, of adrenaline. His blood was surging, his heart was pumping, and he had a friend who was looking back and cheering him on. He was in charge of his body, of the direction and the speed—he was no one's gopher for this moment. He was learning to be strong.
Another boy, serious and stern-faced but only a few centimeters taller, came jogging up. So focused on Riku-kun ahead of him, Sena almost didn't see him. But he felt him. He could sense the narrowing of his running path, an unseen sudden obstacle to avoid. Shifting to the side on instinct so that, instead of shoulders bumping, their shoulders just brushed. Cloth on cloth. Dark eyes just missed meeting and- for a split second- a shiver of awareness ran down his spine.
But Riku was ahead, grinning, and Sena kept going without looking back. He didn't notice the obstacle-boy solemnly looking after his retreating back, frowning in thought.
Sena woke with a start, panting and fists gripping his sheets. In just a few short days, he'd be leaving for America. He'd be able to see Panther once more, play against him even, and become Eyeshield 21 in every way. Was it that excitement, bleeding even in to his subconscious, that had him dreaming of his greatest rival?
His brown eyes fell to his bedsheets and he had to actively loosen his tense muscles. Finger by finger, he released the twisted, slightly sweaty fabric and smoothed his trembling palms over the wrinkled surface.
Or maybe it was the unfinished business? The unspoken words he could never truly form inside the safety of his own mind, let alone out loud. Where they could be smashed, broken, and shattered.
"Rivals…" Sena whispered softly. Almost three years and still that was the closest he could come to defining his… relatio- association with Ojou's ace player. Not friends, nor confidants really. Rivals, pushing each other to greater heights and achievements.
Sena fell back to his bed with a flop, arms crossed behind his head, dark eyes glued to the plan, white ceiling. With each passing year, each game and shared practice, with each new hurdle surpassed, together, rivals didn't seem enough anymore. But… anything else…
It was just scary…
Right?
Sena had grown a little taller, he'd grown braver, more confident, busier, so much busier, but he was still, down to his core, always, a little bit timid. And matters of introspection were terrifying. There were so many things that could go wrong. So many dangers and pitfalls for the feelings building up in his head, in his chest, in the pit of his stomach.
So many ways he could get hurt.
Bruises and fractures, fatigue and aches, bloody scrapes and noses—he could handle that pain these days. His opponents would always be bigger and stronger and sturdier and the ground would always be the ground when tackled to it. But his heart? He'd never really put it out there to be trampled like his body.
Scenario #1: "You're giving me this?" Shin takes the pitifully pounding heart Sena is handing him. Within seconds it's torn apart and Shin is staring at it like it's the pieces of a camera. "I think there's something wrong with it."
"Yeah, I could definitely see that happening," Sena muttered under his breath wryly. Then a worse scene popped into his head.
Scenario #2: "Why would I want that? It's useless and weak." With blank-faced callousness, Shin crushes the pitiful, ridiculous offering in his fist. "When you leave for America, don't bother coming back."
His teeth clenched and his eyes shook, tight at the corners and pupils dilated.
Scenario #3: "Kekekekeke, another thing for the book…"
Sena flailed his arms in the air, face red and brown eyes panicked, dispelling the image of Himura's evil grin and his Threat Book. Sena sat up quickly, slapped his hands to both cheeks like Monta, and exhaled harshly. Hiruma was all the way at Saikyoudai (across town…) and he hadn't seen the evil Commander of Hell for a several months now. If he were going to do something before he left for USA, Sena would definitely have to do it before the good-bye party all his amefuto friends were throwing him in just two more days. His blanket and sheet went finally into the air, and he was speeding through his morning routine.
Today. It would have to be today.
He was out the door just as his father's first alarm rang.
As usual, he had his set running route firmly in mind. His breath clouded the air in front of his mouth, warming his chapped and chilly mouth. It had snowed just the night before, so fresh snow lay in glittering pristine heaps all around him and crunched under his well-worn-in sneakers. Just like his dream, his blood was already pumping and his heart beating as his inward glee skyrocketed. Nothing was better than running. Whether it was wending his way past hulking footballers, pushing his still rather tiny boy to its limits, or just like this—on an open stretch of unobstructed road, nothing made him freer, or more powerful, than the feeling of his feet pounding on the ground and sweat beading his skin. He kept his pace easy and steady, his explosive dash barely restrained.
Up ahead, like clockwork, a figure was running just as swiftly and steadily down the perpendicular block. They'd meet where their roads converged, at precisely the same moment, feet striking in pace. The smile was already curving his lips by the time the much taller, blue-clad, hoodie-wearing nineteen-year-old met his eyes. The brief moment of silent acknowledgement, a firm nod on one side and a correspondingly-widening smile on the other, and the two fastest runners in Japan were side by side.
I'll miss this, Sena thought wistfully, as he'd thought every morning since he'd gotten the email from Clifford-san and decided to accept. He could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks, eyes sliding to the side to glance at Shin's profile.
Cut as if from stone, thin blade of a nose, sharply drawn eyebrows, a down-turned curve of a mouth—Suzuna had once joked that Shin's 'resting bitch face' was also number 1 in Japan. Sena couldn't see that. Instead, he just saw the determination to succeed in the darkness of Shin's black eyes, the solid strength he'd come to depend on in every line of his sharp features. And instead of a frown, Sena couldn't help but remember those few and far between moments when Shin's mouth would soften into something impressed and almost excited—a smile he shared with Sena and very few others. That more than anything was Sena's proof that he was still the ace, still worthy of being called Eyeshield 21. That almost-smile at the end of a game, no matter who won or lost, and the brief, resounding clap of their palms together.
Two and a half years and that's the closest Sena had ever come to holding Shin's hand- or anyone's hand, to be fair.
Also as usual, their fast-paced jogging slowed at a small park a good four miles away from where they'd met up. In spring and summer, they stopped at an embankment near the river, enjoying the breeze coming off the water and the lack of what few children or people might be out in a park during those warmer seasons. At barely 5:30 am just a few days after Christmas? Yeah, the park was emptier than a graveyard, but with much better atmosphere. Plus, there was a bunch of equipment they could use to stretch—and Shin could use for a lot of unnecessarily-gravity-defying exercises. Sena huffed a laugh the moment Shin grabbed ahold of the monkey bars and began doing one-armed lifts.
"Hey, Shin-san, could we take a breather for a minute? Before heading back?" Sena asked without thinking. He immediately froze, eyes widening and spine ramrod-straight even as his knees began to quake. Luckily, Shin was still doing reps as he grunted an affirmative-sounding grunt.
Sena carefully went through his usual stretches to accommodate for the extra trembling in his limbs. Usually he was barely warmed up by the end of his morning run, but today shaking like his first-year inexperienced self. Get yourself together, Sena!
The exercises and stretches came to an end, as they always did, but Sena was no closer to feeling brave enough to blurt out the rest. The two of them sat in their usual spot, a merry-go-round, the metal of which was so cold it burned even through Sena's rather thick winter track suit. Shin gulped down his specially-bought sports drink, none of that fake overly-sugared crap, before handing it over to Sena. Like he always did. No big deal. Not like it was an indirect kiss or something, right? Sena fumbled the bottle a moment, liquid splashing over his gloves and pants before he managed to get a good grip.
Another thousandth or so indirect kiss down, and Sena was wiping his mouth with the back of his glove and gasping aloud. He had no idea how dry his throat and mouth had become until that first (figuratively)sweet sip. When he handed the bottle back, Shin's hand wrapped around his, holding him in place. Sena glanced up in shock.
"Something's wrong," Shina stated matter-of-factually. His gaze traveled over Sena's tense shoulders and shaking hands.
Sena eeped and paled considerably. "N-not wrong," the smaller boy hedged weakly. His eyes were already darting away, over snowy slides and swings and water fountains, at anything but the much taller, suddenly too observant boy next to him. Well, man now. Shin was officially a college student, and recently turned nineteen that past July. Sena felt brittle and tiny when the thought crossed his mind. He'd forgotten already, since he hadn't been allowed to play in the fall tournament with Deimon's Devil Bats. They'd completely decimated the spring tournament without Shin there to slow them down- er, without Ojou's best players on the field- most of them having gone to uni that spring. Shin had never changed his morning routine, and still met up with Sena for extra practice on weekends whenever they weren't studying—not that Sena was particularly good at studying… There had been no explanation, no discussion, just Shin always there. Dependable, reliable, constant Shin.
"Sena," Shin interrupted Sena's scattering thoughts in a firm voice. "Is it about America?"
"A-America?" Sena repeated dumbly.
"English will be hard, your studies are not exactly your strong-point," Shin continued. Sena felt the critique like an arrow through the heart, even though he wasn't wrong. "But you're going to represent Japan in amefuto. You will be respected for your running and your abilities on the field. There should be no anxiety in the face of that."
Sena felt the tension leaving him, and the slight pain at the almost-insult. Shin was always so bluntly honest about Sena's abilities, about his pride in Sena's accomplishments and strengths, just as much as his weaknesses. His respect and thirst for Shin's approval was never left wanting for long. Probably why it had taken Sena so long to distinguish feelings from pride in his role model's notice.
"Thanks, Shin-san. I know that. The studying is g-going t-to be very hard, and the amefuto p-players bigger and s-stronger than m-most opponents I m-met here," Sena chattered, fists knotting tightly on his thighs, pupils dilating and shaking. "But…" he closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "But I can do it. I'll beat them and get stronger and faster," he stated fiercely, eyes glowing as excitement filled him. He broke off with a laugh, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I won't get much smarter, though."
"No," Shin agreed simply. Sena felt himself sweatdrop ruefully. "You will be stronger when you get back. We'll finally meet again on the field, then."
Sena glanced up finally, smiling easily when Shin's dark, intense gaze pierced his. The intensity sometimes still made him quake… but not in the way it used to.
"Is that want you needed? Reassurance?" Shin asked, his brows coming down into a scowl that clearly spoke of disappointment in Sena's insecurities.
"N-no! No, that's not it! It was nice, I r-really appreciated it, but no! I'm ready to go to America!" Sena hurriedly corrected, flustered and gesticulating wildly. Shin's broad hand fell over Sena's shoulder.
"It's cold, and our heart rate has already dropped to a normal resting rate. Whatever it is you want to say, say it, Sena." The smaller of the two gulped at the firm, but not unkind demand.
"I-I-" Sena stammered, mouth working uselessly to produce any other sounds. He got to his feet, the curl of displeasure in his belly when the warmth of Shin's hand fell away ruthlessly ignored. He broadened his stance, feet shoulder-width apart, and convulsively squeezed his fists even tighter at his sides. "I-I'll miss you! Wh-When I g-go. There's n-no one like you in America. There's Panther-kun, and I know he'll be a constant challenge, and I can't wait. B-But no one… no one is Shin-san. N-No one… no one makes me stronger and faster like Shin-san does," Sena finally blurted, words tumbling over themselves, useless babbling and self-correcting, all to drop off into a self-conscious whisper. His eyes darted up, peeking to the fringe of his bangs, to see Shin's… startled face.
It was a small difference- the widening of his normally narrowed gaze, the slight flare of his nostrils, the parting of his firm mouth- but it was there. Whether at the outburst, or the words, Sena couldn't tell. His knees wanted to collapse, and his heart constricted too tautly to beat, but he stood firm and waited.
"I feel the same," Shin said after a long moment.
Sena's neck almost cracked he looked up so quickly, a wide, astonished grin on his face. That quivered at the corners seeing the perplexed frown on Shin's face.
"Sena is the best player in Japan. You have no equal in here, and when you're gone, there will be no one else who can challenge me as well as you," Shin continued slowly, but surely. "But I don't think I understand why you had to speak this out loud. It's obvious."
Tense shoulders drooped and fists released. From apprehensive, excited fear to defeat in a moment. Sena thumbed at his nose, his self-deprecating chuckle weak and shaky. "Yeah, that's… that's obvious. I just… I just wanted to say it." But you didn't understand anyway. Scenario #1 it is then.
"Sena?"
"It's all good We should probably head back. I'm already making you take longer- I'm- your training schedule is all messed up now. And for nothing, right? I just said something stupid," Sena continued to laugh, eyes too wide and lips still trembling. He couldn't seem to see Shin, he was a rapidly growing blur in his peripheral vision, but Sena couldn't see him rising or approaching. He was looking everywhere else.
"Sena, something is not right…"
"Yeah, I mean no, I mean, yeah, it's right- all right, I mean. My mom's gonna be waiting for me for breakfast soon. I'm sure your parents are, too, we should go," Sena prattled on, desperate. Because his nose was feeling hot and stuffy and his eyes scratchy.
What is it Monta-kun says? A man only cries if it's painful. This isn't painful. This is obvious.
He jumped in shock as heavy hands settled on his shoulders. The quick movement of his eyes upwards, the startled blink, had something damp gathering at the corners of his eyes.
"Kobayakawa," Shin interjected firmly. "What are you not saying?"
"I-I l-like you," Sena blurted, still laughing awkwardly. Hands squeezed too tight on his shoulders for a moment, but Sena still couldn't look at Shin's face. "I'm so stupid, right? It never even- you never even thought like that. I knew that, but I thought- it's so stupid. G-good thing I'm going to America, right?" The laugh was high-pitched and breathy and ridiculous.
Those hands finally lifted and Sena's legs tensed, muscles ready, aching to run. But then something cold and rough was placed over his mouth. A finger. A bare, winter-chapped, amefuto-callused index finger placed over his mouth to cut off his senseless jabbering and panicked laughter. His breath caught and he looked up. Shin was scowling, confusion so clear in his expression. It looked so much like the expression he gave anything electronic placed in his hands that Sena wanted to laugh out loud again. But he was too busy swallowing down something thick and heavy in his throat.
"I like you, too, but I do not believe you mean it in the way I am accustomed to understanding it," Shin mused. He pulled his hand away.
He's so tall, Sena thought stupidly, his neck aching as he looked up the near 30 centimeters between them.
"N-No, I don't. I mean. I mean…" Sena rubbed the back of his wrist over his face. "I mean, I wanna hold your hand. I wanna see you without practice, or a game, or a football. I wanna be with you for no other reason than to be with you. You're more than my rival, Shin-san. You've been more than that for a while. I know I'm a boy, and I'm small and timid and you've never been interested in someone in that way, anyway. But I do. I do feel that way." Sena gritted his teeth, eyes on their feet. Shin hadn't left, hadn't scoffed in disdain or… or worse. But how could anything be worse? His heart still felt trampled.
With a surge of desperation, he pulled his lips into a lopsided grin and looked up. "It's okay, though. I'll be gone in two days, and when I come back we can pretend like I never said anything."
"What do you want?" Shin inquired, his frown smoothed into something unreadable. Sena squeaked and stepped back.
"Wh-what?"
"When you decided to tell me, what did you want?" Shin clarified patiently. Sena felt cold sweat drip down his spine when Shin stepped forward in the small gap Sena's retreat had made. Sena stepped another foot back.
"I-I w-wasn't- I d-d-don't know wh-what y-you m-mean," Sena stuttered wildly. A small surprised 'guh' escaped his mouth when Shin advanced, looming into the space until they were even closer than they were before. Their chests almost bumped- well, Sena's chest and to Shin's belly/lower chest area.
"When you thought about saying this, what was your best case scenario?" Shin pressed relentlessly. One hand wrapped around Sena's bicep to keep him from moving. Sena's muscles had developed enough that, finally, Shin's hand couldn't wrap entirely around his arm. But, damn, did it seem like it.
"I-I-"
Scenario #4: "What is this?" Shin asked, staring down at the soppily, cartoonish heart in his hands.
"Everything."
"I'll keep it safe," Shin promised, somehow right in Sena's space- like he was now- and wrapping an arm around Sena's waist. Somehow that stupid dream-symbol heart was gone, and Sena's hand was instead pressed to Shin's chest. "Have mine, too." And like a sappy shojo manga, Shin's lips fell over his. There were flowers and bubbles and cupids and crap like that, too. Cuz why not. Sena was too happy to care.
Sena's eyes darted to Shin's mouth and gave it away. He realized it a moment later, face paling and teeth bared in a wide grimace.
"N-nothing!" Sena wheezed, his eyes safely gazing over Shin's shoulder once more.
There was a brief moment where he was sure Shin must be giving it up for a lost cause. Too confused, unsure what was supposed to happen next or what anything Sena had said meant. … the grip on his arm never slackened…
"You're being evasive," Shin grunted, some level of irritation in his tone.
Sena chuckled weakly, eyes closing and hand scratching the back of his head. "R-really? I d-d-didn't-"
The same moment a second hand joined his behind his head, breath fanned over his mouth. Even as he stuttered, lips fell over his and cut him off entirely. It was awkward, mouths cold, too dry and chapped, angled too straight forward, with noses somehow in the way. Sena had neither the experience, nor the awareness to help fix it. He blinked stupidly when Shin pulled away. His frown was pensive, calculating, and Sena merely boggled, frozen.
Then, Shin dipped his head down again, head angled better and lips a soft brush then a firm pressure on Sena's. The younger teen was up on his toes, fingers twisting into the thick hoodie and eyes squeezed shut, before he even noticed his own movement. Shin's mouth didn't seem so chapped or dry now, not with the breaths between them dampening their skin, not with the way Sena couldn't help but lick the tip of his tongue over Shin's bottom lip. The wet heat startled them both, but they didn't stop. Maybe couldn't on Sena's end, anyway. He had no idea what was going through Shin's. He didn't know if the older teen's head was spinning, if his heart was pounding with the same adrenaline rush a touchdown created, if he was dizzy or craving someway to press closer. To sink into Sena's heat and kiss the same way Sena wanted to sink into his. The kiss was clumsy and bumbling, lips slipping too fast, parting too wide, pressing too hard, teeth clipping, but it was perfect. Pressure hesitantly soft one moment, desperately hard the next, lips catching between lips that clung together as if their skin was just as frantic not to let go. Shin's hands on his arm and bare neck were points of heat that had him shuddering.
It ended too soon, but too late at once. Sena was dizzy with oxygen loss, chest heaving in great gulps of frigid December air, by the time Shin's mouth pulled completely away and he fell back onto his heels. He could feel how warm his face was, how completely red his cheeks must be, and his eyes couldn't seem to open all the way.
But he saw Shin clearly this time. Everything else was a white haze, except for Shin's equally flushed cheeks and gasping breaths. Sena felt dizzy all over again, just from seeing that slack, amazed expression on stoic, "robot" Shin's face.
"Sh-Shin-san," Sena murmured. He promptly broke off, too dazed to have any other words.
"s-Seijuuro," the now-raspy-voiced linebacker corrected with a barely perceptible stutter. Sena blinked, dumb and puzzled.
"Wha-?"
"Call me Seijuuro," Shin told him, voice firmer but still octaves lower and hoarser than usual. It sent another chill down Sena's spine, but a chill unlike he'd ever felt before. He blushed brightly as understanding dawned.
"B-but I-I c-couldn't-"
Shin leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. Sena's jaw clicked shut, but he relished to heat of Shin's shin, the tickle of their short bangs.
"When you are gone, I will study. I will research what it means and what to call this," Shin declared, calmly and without shame. Sena's scoffed, mouth breaking into a wide grin. "When you get back, I will know. I will understand. I promise."
"Why?" Sena blurted, immediately looking horrified. He slapped a hand over his mouth. He pulled a hair's breadth away, but Shin only reeled him back in, arm around Sena's waist this time.
"I want to," Shin answered simply. Sena met his gaze, the incremental distance making his heart thud painfully. He could see every line of Shin's face, the exact shade of brown of his irises, the short, black lashes that fringed his eyes. "I want to know what I feel, and say it honestly, the way you have. I want to do this again," Sena's cheeks flamed. "I want you and I didn't realize how until right now."
"Shin-san," Sena whispered. He shook his head minutely. "S-Seijuuro-kun, when I get back, I want to hear it. How you feel."
"Good."
Two broad, rough hands cupped his jaw and tilted his head back. Sena couldn't help but laugh, a real joyous laugh, before Shin- Seijuuro- kissed him again.
