Title: Typo.
Summary: Abe makes a very embarrassing typo, and Tajima has some fun.
Character(s): Abe Takaya, Mihashi Ren, Tajima Yūichirō.
Pairing(s): AbeMiha.
It was a typical night for Abe Takaya. After practice (and grilling Mihashi to make sure to eat a big dinner), he went home and showered, ate with his family, and got his homework out of the way before getting ready to go to sleep. As he was lying in bed, his phone buzzed, and he checked it to see a text from Mihashi.
From: Mihashi Ren at 8:46 PM.
Message: Abe, Kanō said that he and his catcher learned this routine that the pros do to warm up! How cool is that?!
Abe snorted and shook his head with a small smile as he typed out a reply.
To: Mihashi Ren at 8:48 PM.
Message: Yeah, I've heard of that. Maybe I'll show you some time.
At least, that's what he thought he said. But as he read it over, a feeling of dread settled in Abe's stomach and he sat bolt upright as he read over what he'd just sent to Mihashi. Wait... No... No way!
Message: Yeah, I've heard of that. Maybe I'll strip you some time.
Abe straightened, running a hand through his hair with a look of utter horror. "Oh no, no, no, no, nooooo!" He collapsed against his headboard with a moan, covering his face with his hands and vigorously shaking his head. "Oh god, kill me... Please just kill me..." He hugged his knees to his chest and hid his face in them. This is horrible! He's already nervous around me as it is, and with that stupid mistake... He let out an angered growl and reached out to punch the wall, collapsing on his stomach with a defeated groan. He'll never be able to speak or even look at me ever again... What have I done?
While Abe was silently suffering by himself in his room, Mihashi was gaping at his phone in complete shock as Tajima peered over his shoulder. "Cmon, Mihashi, what'd he say?" the cleanup batter whined, struggling to see the screen. Eventually, he just snatched it from the shell-shocked boy's hand, reading over the message quickly.
He burst into violent fits of laughter and the phone dropped from his hand as he fell back, gripping his stomach. "Oh, wow, I had no idea Abe was so bold!" he managed to gasp out, hitting the floor with a fist as he struggled to regain his composure.
Mihashi still hadn't moved, holding his hand up and blankly staring at the palm the phone had been taken out of as if it was still there. But finally, his brain seeming to process the words, his face turned a bright shade of red and he began stuttering incomprehensibly. "A-Abe-kun— Kanō s-said— Technique— I j-just— S-strip? I d-d-don't—"
Tajima swung his legs back and kicked himself into an upright position, grabbing the phone from where he'd dropped it and patted the shaking, mumbling pitcher on the shoulder gently. "Don't worry, Mihashi; I got this." He started typing, a grin on his face, which Mihashi might've noticed (and been worried about) if he wasn't still blabbering, unable to form a coherent thought.
From: Mihashi Ren at 9:04 PM.
Message: Oh yeah? Why don't you then? Meet me in the dugout after practice ;)
Abe's mouth let out a sound somewhere between a squeak and a cough as his face flushed a dark red. "Whaaaa..." He felt his brain short-circuiting as he processed the words. "N-no way..." He rested a hand on his forehead and violently shook his head. "Mihashi would never say something like that."
He gulped and clasped the phone tightly between his hands. But... what if he really... Abe shook his head and slapped his cheeks twice. No way. No way, no way, no way. He tried to reason with himself. Maybe Mihashi doesn't know what 'strip' actually means... Yeah, that must be it. He must think it's a baseball term or something.
Yeah, so I can go and diffuse the situation calmly and clearly, right? He nodded to himself. Mihashi really is such an idiot. But after this, I'll have to be careful when I type something. Abe scowled at the phone. After a second of glaring at it, he snatched it up angrily and furiously typed out a response.
To: Mihashi Ren at 8:48 PM.
Message: Fine, but only to do some extra stretching. Make sure you eat a good breakfast, and you better weight yourself before practice!
He sent it and let out a breath of relief, collapsing back on the bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. I have to remember to always proof-read texts from now on...
The next day, Abe hovered around the dug-out after practice, waiting for his pitcher with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. When the boy finally showed up, he was being dragged roughly by Tajima, and the cleanup roughly shoved him into the dugout before turning and sprinting full-speed across the field, disappearing before the pitcher could even blink.
His only chance of escape gone, Mihashi turned to face Abe, shifting from foot to foot, not meeting Abe's eyes, his face red. "Um, A-Abe-kun, I-I, um..." He continued stammering, as Abe grew increasingly annoyed. After another few minutes, he growled and slammed a fist against the railing behind Mihashi. "Spit it out already!"
"Y-you can— You can s-strip me if you want!" Mihashi yelled, his face steaming red.
Abe stumbled back a step, feeling a flush creep up his neck. "Idiot. Do you even know what you're saying?"
"T-Tajima-kun t-told me to..." Mihashi trailed off, his lip quivering and tears shining in his eyes.
Abe growled, clenching his fist so tightly he felt his knuckles pop. "That bastard... I should've known Tajima was behind this." His gray eyes turned sinister and he gritted his teeth. "When I get my hands on that little— I'll wring his scrawny neck!" He stormed off across the field in the direction Tajima had gone, muttering angrily to himself, leaving Mihashi standing in the dugout, blinking after him in confusion.
Tajima-kun told me it was about baseball, so... why is Abe so mad?
