Summer City
Disclaimer: don't own.
Note: hbd shuu!
As soon as he starts to break a sweat the sunscreen rolls down into Shuuzou's eyes and he blinks as they water, blurring his vision and cutting down the light they're letting in—not that it's a bad thing considering the way the sun is already beating down on them even this early in the morning. Tatsuya laughs as Shuuzou blinks and dribbles, slowing down the pace of the game—he darts in for a steal but Shuuzou drives around him, closing his eyes and trusting his other senses and throwing up a shot. Shuuzou opens his eyes just in time to see it roll around the rim three times before it bounces out. He lunges for the rebound but Tatsuya gets there first, grabbing it away and running down to the other end of the court. Shuuzou's been able to match him step for step since the time they met, and he's grown taller again and the length of their paces matter a lot on such a small surface so he manages to catch up and starts guarding aggressively, mostly to tease and annoy Tatsuya.
He quickly wipes the sweat and sunscreen from his forehead and eyes; Tatsuya drives past him and makes an easy layup and Shuuzou scowls. He'll probably get it back later but it's annoying—the sunscreen in his eyes is annoying, too. If he didn't burn so damn easily and if it was cloudy and if he was willing to fork over upwards of 10 bucks for special sunscreen that doesn't sting and if it didn't mix with the sweat and run down—but that's irrelevant. He starts to dribble and runs to the other end, evading Tatsuya's arms and fingers and then feinting toward him but Tatsuya doesn't flinch and their chests bump together and Tatsuya's smirk is scary and Shuuzou loses concentration but by a stroke of luck he doesn't lose the ball (Tatsuya's distracted too, even if he's better at hiding it) and he grabs the ball away and lets Tatsuya's hand skim over his waist, enjoying the feeling as he shoots a fadeaway jumper just inside the line; it's only good for two points but they're back to being even.
A group of middle school kids passes them; some of them glare because Tatsuya and Shuuzou have taken the prime real estate, the court that still has nets on both hoops and asphalt least-chipped. They've earned it, though; they got here early and they'll defend it with their best game, waving away six or seven of those kids with just the two of them; they play as well together as they do against each other and even in these quick few months they've become a known quantity, something to probably be avoided.
The sweat is gathering on Shuuzou's forehead by now; he wipes it off with the bottom of his shirt and as he lets it back down it falls with a wet flop, soaked with sweat already. It's earlier than usual but it's hot enough to be mid-afternoon and it's not even 10 in the morning yet. He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it at the base of the near hoop near his water bottle; Tatsuya whistles at him and Shuuzou rolls his eyes.
The sun gets the better of them half an hour later and they break for water, sinking down against the hoop and too close to one another to really get that much cooker. It's too public and they're too sweaty and tired to really do anything, especially sitting on the burning asphalt, but Shuuzou places a kiss on the side of Tatsuya's jaw and the sweat permeates his lip with its saltiness.
"You taste disgusting," Shuuzou mutters.
Tatsuya tilts his head and raises his eyebrow and Shuuzou groans. He looks so fucking beautiful even with his hair all matted down with sweat and his clothes rumpled in a way that would look like the least sexy thing in the world on anyone else. Shuuzou shouldn't let his mind wander to this as often as it does but it always happens, and even so he's not aware of exactly how hard he's staring until Tatsuya touches his shoulder; his bare fingers are freezing from holding his water bottle and Shuuzou jerks backward and almost bangs his arm against the base of the hoop.
"Hey Shuu, What are you thinking about?" Tatsuya says.
Shuuzou huffs. "We should get back to the game."
They leave after another few games and when the courts get crowded; it's no fun doing one-on-ones with each other when there are so many people watching (Tatsuya gets anxious and although Shuuzou doesn't really care about the crowds it's no fun for him when Tatsuya's so tightly wound up). They split a cherry dip cone from the ice cream truck and it bursts and spills on their hands before they finish paying; their mouths are red from the artificially-colored coating and raw from the sheer amount of sugar; Tatsuya licks the excess stickiness from Shuuzou's hand and wrist and the corner of his mouth, fists his own clean hand in Shuuzou's shirt and pulls him down into a kiss. The angles are changing day to day as Shuuzou grows and he doesn't have time to get used to the new ones but this one feels particularly good; their stained lips collide and he blinks back more sunscreen from his eyes.
His father's making strides but it's not good for him to be out in the sun too long; Shuuzou sits with him on the hospital balcony in the shade and they quietly talk of things that affect them only tangentially (spending so much time in bed has made Shuuzou's father an avid reader of the Los Angeles Times; it's helped him improve his rusty high school English and he's much more interested in the nuances of global politics than Shuuzou ever remembers him being (although he never would have considered talking of such things back when he was in middle school, especially not with his father) ) and occasionally of Shuuzou's siblings and their progress in school. They get up to go back inside and Shuuzou's father claps him on the shoulder.
"Are you having fun?"
Shuuzou nods. "I am."
His father's mouth crinkles into a smile. "Good. Life's too short to not have fun when you've got the chance."
He meets Tatsuya at Alex's clinic; most of the kids have gone home already but some are still waiting for their siblings and cousins to return from their own adventures to wrangle them up at the designated meeting spot. They're too tired to keep playing but Tatsuya isn't; Shuuzou joins him in shooting practice and they fall into a comfortable rhythm of sneakers smacking the floor and balls swishing through the hoop and bouncing on the ground. Alex kicks them out with a smile once the last of the kids has left.
Tatsuya spins a basketball on one finger and locks the fingers on his other hand in Shuuzou's; they walk down the street in relative comfort and relishing the sounds of the city at night, still buzzing with noise and vibrating with life.