The doorbell rang half past eleven in the morning. Takaya Abe napped in the room downstairs, unable to make it up the stairs to his own bedroom time after time.

Takaya's little brother, Shun, ran to get the door. The parents were out at the store, getting groceries. Shun swung open the door and stared in confusion at who stood there. "Uh hello."

"Wow! You look so much like him!" said the good-looking, tall young man, maybe a little older than his brother Takaya, waiting outside the door. He was wearing an excited grin that made him look a little younger than he really was. Shun looked up at him blankly.

"Uh...what?"

The stranger looked disappointed. "Aw, he hasn't talked about me? By the way, do you mind letting me in?"

Hurriedly, Shun moved to let the teen inside. The stranger looked around the nicely decorated house. He noticed the clean little touches of a mother and the casual carelessness of a household containing growing men.

"I'm sorry for being rude, but who are you?" demanded Shun, frustrated he had no clue who this guy was yet.

"Ah! Sorry, sorry. My name's Motoki Haruna. Nice to meet you. I take it you're Takaya's little brother?"

Shun stared in shock. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Haruna was supposed to be, from Takaya's angry ranting, a mean, bad-tempered kind of guy. He was supposed to be rude to everything and everyone, for no reason at all. He was supposed to be incredibly arrogant, and maybe the guy was somewhat conceited, but he wasn't announcing it.

Haruna was the opposite of how Takaya had portrayed. "Yeah, I am," the little brother choked out. Here in front of him, was one of the greatest pitchers he had ever seen. How many games had he won? How many scouts did he have looking at him during games? How could Takaya have been so wrong?

"Hey there. Well, I heard about Takaya's injury, so I stopped by to see how he was doing. Is he home?" Haruna noticed the younger boy's shock, and he felt pleased. It was obvious Takaya had been telling stories at him.

Shun nodded and gestured for the taller boy to follow him. "His bedroom is upstairs, but he can't get up and down very well, so he's staying downstairs for now. TAKAYA! Someone's here to see you."

He stopped at the beginning of a hallway. "Second door on the right. I'm going to finish making lunch." He left Haruna to fend for himself. Motoki was eager to see his old catcher. He'd seen him before while Abe was in the stands, but it hadn't been for as long as he'd liked. Stupid Takaya had run off on him.

Deciding not to be polite, he barged in, not even bothering to knock. He was prepared to meet harsh accusations, mean insults, demands to get out. However, there was only silence, except for a light snoring from a chair.

Haruna grinned, catching sight of a entirely defenseless Takaya. His mouth was slightly open, head relaxed against the back of the chair, his injured leg propped up. He had grown up a lot since they were teammates. He was a lot taller, not so tiny, and his facial features had matured a lot more.

Almost hating to wake the smaller boy up, he did so anyways, because he was eager to talk to his old catcher. He walked over to Takaya and shook his shoulder. Slowly, the other boy's eyes opened slowly.

At first, he was confused. Then startled. Then angry. "Who let you in?"

"Your little brother. He's so cute. He looks just like you." Haruna grinned teasingly. He found a chair and pulled it up beside Takaya.

The catcher rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed. For two reasons; being woken up, and the arrogant pitcher being the one who did so.

"What are you here for?" he snapped, just wanting the other to go away as soon as possible.

Haruna pretended to look offended. "Why, Takaya, I had no idea you could be so rude. All I came for was to check up on you. I heard about your injury. How are you feeling?" His eyes slid to Takaya's leg.

"Fine." The reply was blunt.

"Aw, Takaya. Don't be so mean."

"Go home."

"You're cute when you sleep so innocently like that." It was the truth, but now awake, Takaya looked more handsome than 'cute.'

To Haruna's surprise, Takaya's cheeks turned a light shade of pink and his eyes widened. Then, catching sight of Haruna staring, he quickly looked the other way. Haruna had always known Takaya liked hearing compliments; it was the reason why he had given them out so rarely when they were on the same team, in fear that too many would wear it out. But this blush was different than just receiving a simple tease.

Slowly, a sly smile turned the taller male's lips upwards. His fingers stretched to touch Takaya's exposed kneecap. "Hey, Takaya," Haruna said, his voice low, seductive. "Have you had a girlfriend since you were my catcher?" His fingers, long and calloused from throwing baseballs, caressed his old teammate's bare skin.

Takaya was a red shade now, his lips pressed together firmly and his eyes confused. "How is that your business?" he growled. He would have moved his leg, or slapped the other's hand, if this had been anyone other than Haruna touching him. Somehow, the older male made the touches seem okay, not disgusting like Takaya would have thought it could feel like.

"It's just a question," Haruna said with a smile, rising from his seat. He bent closer to Takaya. "Why are you so defensive?" Haruna honestly didn't know why he was doing this-maybe it was because Takaya was incredibly hot with that scarlet blush coloring his cheeks. He sensed Takaya shifting uncomfortably, his eyes still avoiding.

Abruptly, as the other was attempting to reply, Haruna bent down and flicked his tongue around Takaya's earlobe. "What-what are y-you-" he tried to grind out, his face now full on blood-red. Gently, Motoki nibbled on the sensitive lobe. His knee now rested on the arm of the chair.

Takaya could have moved if he wanted to, if he wasn't so turned on right now. And the ironic thing was, that the one person he hated most in the world, Motoki Haruna, was doing it to him. He wanted more of this delicious pleasure, but had too much pride to make any moves of his own.

Slowly, the older male's hot breath trailed from his ear to his bared neck. Haruna's hand, just now removed from Takaya's knee, went to the catcher's cheek. His other hand clutched the fabric of the chair to balance himself. His lips, enticing, left Takaya's neck. The younger wanted to moan in dispair, desperate to have more.

Haruna's hand was directing his face toward his own. Their eyes locked. Both were breathing heavily. Abe stared at the face lingering above his own; the smoldering, dangerous eyes, the luscious, inviting lips. Haruna was taking forever, moving slowly, trying to make this moment as wonderfully strained as possible. He loved seeing the impatience in the catcher's eyes.

Takaya couldn't take the teasing anymore. His hand went to the pitcher's neck and yanked him down. Haruna was now sprawled on top of Abe, his knees in between Abe's right leg. His hands were on the arms of the chair to balance himself. But the most seductive part of the scene, was where the two pairs of lips met.

The younger male, desperate, moved his lips passionately, but Haruna tried to slow it down. His joy was doing the opposite of what Takaya was wanting. The catcher gradually agreed, and it slowed. Gentle, sweet, loving. It was perfect. Takaya floated on air.

Haruna broke the kiss a few moments later, and he looked down at his old catcher with a smile. "Ah, Takaya, I take it you liked that?"

The younger turned scarlet and looked away, muttering something rude. His arms crossed, and with a still slightly shaken voice, ordered, "Move."

The other did as he was told, and sat back down in his chair. He simply observed Takaya, suddenly seeing him in a slightly different light. How could he have never noticed that Takaya was actually a very, very hot guy? And did this mean that Haruna was a homo? Did it mean Takaya was a homo? Well, he didn't see any other guys this way. He didn't get hard just from seeing another guy blush. Maybe he was only homo for Takaya?

Haruna caught sight of a cell phone. He snatched it up and quickly punched something in. Then he searched through something, brought out his own phone and started pressing buttons. "You have my number, and I have yours. I'm going to text you. Or call you. If you don't answer me within an hour, I'll come over. Then we'll continue what we just did. Now, don't purposely ignore me," Motoki teased, winking.

"I'm not going to answer you, and I'm not going to let my family let you in anymore."

"Now, Takaya. I'll just come in through the window." Haruna stood and gave his old catcher a smile. "I hope your inury heals quickly. I'll be leaving now."

Abe could hear Motoki saying goodbye to Shun. Then the sound of a door opening, then closely behind it, the door shutting. Shun's footsteps returned back to the kitchen. Suddenly, Takaya felt very alone.

His fingers, against his will, picked up an item. He felt irritated with himself, but he couldn't help it. His fingers moved of their own accord. Before he knew it, he had already sent the text. Feeling angry with himself, he slapped his forehead.

'Come over Sunday.' Why did he have to invite him?

Immediately, there was a reply. Takaya was too nervous to read it, so he waited a moment. Slowly he picked up his cell phone and read the message.

'Okay. I'll see you then. Love, Motoki;).'