Just This, Just That
Pairing: Shin/Sena
Rating: PG
Summary: Seijuro Shin loved the morning. Sena did, too
Written quickly for a challenge on LJ. Might be a little OOC, this is the first thing I've written for the Eyeshield fandom.
Also to those who are expecting me to update something else, the next chapter of Mutual Understanding is on its way! No, really.
Seijuro Shin loved the morning. Outside, inside, it was all the same – a calm quiet peacefulness hung in the air that didn't exist any other time of day. Every footfall pounded into the pavement during his jog felt more powerful. Every breath seemed to come more easily. And when words, rarely spoken though they were, interrupted the thick atmosphere of serenity, they somehow sounded more meaningful, more weighty.
There was another reason Shin loved the early mornings. And he was short and sleight of frame, with warm brown hair and even warmer brown eyes – and running only a few meters in front of Shin.
Shin could have easily overtaken Sena. The running back wasn't pushing himself today, only jogging at an easy pace. But he chose not to, and instead had been following Sena along the route that they both trained along. They had been doing this for several days now. Shin had it timed so perfectly so that he would reach the fork in the road two minutes after Sena, and could run behind him along the river bank. They'd run for a while like that, but sooner or later Sena would pick up on Shin's footsteps, echoing in the quiet, and he'd stop and abruptly turn around.
He'd smile and run backwards for a few yards, at a slower pace so that Shin would be forced to close the distance between them, and then without even halting a millimeter Sena would flip back forwards and speed up, issuing a challenge to Shin.
After that they'd always run side by side, for far longer than either of them meant to, and it would end with them worn out and panting for breath, sprawled out on the grass of the embankment. Always.
So Shin wasn't at all surprised when it happened on this morning, with Sena turning around and – those eyes – smiling knowingly. There was such innocence in that smile, such unguarded joy that when Sena starts running seriously, getting farther and farther away, it's all Shin can do to chase after him.
Shin catches up to him today, like he always does, and like always has to resist the natural instinct to tackle Sena into the ground.
And, like always, they end up at the embankment, worn out beyond belief and sore all over.
"Hey, Shin," Sena says between deep breaths, "Don't you think – it's probably really stupid – to overexert ourselves – like this?"
Shin studies him, lain out on the grass, his skin flushed and his normally bird's-nest hair even more unruly. Rivulets of sweat run down wiry limbs and that small chest heaves up and down with the effort of breathing. And those eyes, those innocent, brown eyes were glowing, so radiant that Shin had to look away, up at the sky and the far dimmer sun.
"Yeah," he said at long last, "It probably is."
But he'd keep at it, day after day, for as long as Sena would be there too.
If there was one thing Shin loved, it was the morning.
Kobayakawa Sena loved the morning. That groggy awake-yet-not state of mind where dreams were real and the faint light of dawn was shining in through the crack in the window (but not right in his eyes, that was never pleasant). The way he could ignore everything else and snuggle further into the warm blankets, reveling in that relaxing state of not-sleep.
He loved the darkness of the morning, which he maintained was different from the darkness of night or any other kind of darkness out there. The darkness in the morning was soft, muted, and non-threatening – friendly, even, so that he could see clearly with half an eye open everything in his room, and without another thought lie back in bed and close his eyes and wait.
He loved the way Shin woke up, which was completely unlike his own habits. Shin woke up very suddenly. He'd be asleep one moment and then – snap! – he'd be sitting straight up, completely awake. It scared Sena the first time – he woke up hollering – but since then he'd grown accustomed to it, and when Shin woke up after him he'd pretend to be asleep because Shin was unbelievably mushy when he thought Sena was asleep.
Sena, keeping his eyes closed, anticipated the warm touch of skin on skin and Shin did not disappoint. He leaned over Sena, carefully, brushing against Sena's arm with one powerful hand. Sena suppressed a shiver, and Shin bowed down to push Sena's bangs out of his face. His favorite part was next, and he gave away his deception by smiling when Shin kissed him gently on the forehead.
"You sneak," Shin's morning voice, softer than normal and still rough with sleep, murmured near his ear. Sena opened his eyes and looked at Shin, who was smiling back at him.
"Sorry," he said lightly, although he wasn't, and stretched out his arms to curl around the back of Shin's neck and draw him closer. Shin never protested when Sena tried to keep him longer in bed, although he knew how much the linebacker was probably itching to get up and moving.
Sena loved the morning, for its patience, for its gentleness, for everything that didn't exist during other times of the day. While there was no doubt that midday had its appeal to Sena -- playing American Football with the bright, powerful, merciless sun overhead, the heat and intensity always pushing him to do better, to run faster – the morning was the time that Sena loved best.