Notes: Written for tadanoitsuki over at tumblr who requested ChrisMiyu for the prompt "good enough." Also based on the not-angsty ChrisMiyu verse Lex and I once talked about.
Disclaimer: Diamond no Ace belongs to Terajima Yuuji.
good enough for me
Miyuki shifts restlessly in his seat, grip tightening on his chopsticks. His heart is a thundering drum beat in his chest, his palms flushed warm, as he watches Chris chew. He waits for the other boy to swallow before he clears his throat, and asks, "How is it?"
Yellow eyes flick in his direction, and Chris smiles faintly. "You don't have to ask every time, you know."
He can feel heat grazing up his neck, and he smiles, a little too widely. "Of course I do."
"It's delicious," Chris says, without an ounce of insincerity. "It always is. You're a good cook, Miyuki."
"Now you're just teasing."
"I'm only telling you the truth," the other boy replies, taking another mouthful.
Miyuki glances away, cheeks burning, his thoughts scrambled into an incoherent mess. "Senpai is too kind," is all he can manage.
Thankfully, Chris lets the matter drop, and they lapse into another bout of comfortable silence. Miyuki exhales quietly, and returns to picking at his food. His stomach is flopping around too erratically for him to swallow more than a few bites at a time, so he's mostly been pushing his meal around with his chopsticks. He's not even all that hungry, but Chris had insisted that Miyuki cook enough for two portions, insisted they eat together, and well. Miyuki couldn't think of a good reason to say no. So he didn't.
They've been doing this for a while now. A little over three weeks. There isn't enough time in a day for Miyuki to dredge up the energy to cook after practices, so it's been mostly a weekend thing. But.
It's happening.
Sometimes, Miyuki has a hard time believing it.
He forces another mouthful down his throat, barely tasting the food. "What do you think of today's match?"
Chris hums, and his gaze turns thoughtful. "Furuya's control is improving. He's been getting strikes more consistently."
Miyuki huffs a laugh. "It really is. I think he's making good progress. Now if only we could do something about his stamina."
"There's no helping that. It's not something he can fix overnight."
"I guess not." Miyuki sighs. "What about Sawamura?"
They spend the remainder of the meal in quiet discussion, switching from pitchers to batters to rival teams. It's their usual set of topics, because despite nearly two years of playing on the same team, Miyuki still has a hard time coming up with things to say to Chris that isn't baseball-themed.
Better than nothing, Miyuki thinks, as he collects their dishes and piles them into the sink. He's getting approximately two to three hours of undisturbed solitary time with Chris. A week. They're talking. They're spending time together.
What more could he ask for?
He turns the tap, soaking the plates. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Chris leaning against the counter, easily resuming their conversation about Sawamura's new training regimen. He's not quite looking at Miyuki, gaze trained on empty space as he works through his thoughts, but he's standing close enough that Miyuki can feel his body heat, brushes of warmth that sends goosebumps prickling across his skin.
"—cut down a little. What do you think?"
Miyuki grins at his hands, covered in soap. "Sounds great."