Originally handwritten over a few days and then edited and typed up on my phone for submission to basketballpoetsociety's Challenge 111: Rare Pair Battle on 21/2/2015.
Space/Long Distance AU also prompted by stephanericher - unrelated to the previous ficlet despite the similar setting.
Shuuzou drums his fingers against the table surface as he waits for the call to pick up.
Shuuzou had first met Tatsuya on a racecourse at Gliese 667. They had both lost the race to a rookie racer new to the circuit - the blond boy had smiled at them before bouncing and sparkling his way towards one Aomine Daiki.
They had shared resigned looks - Himuro Tatsuya's slight, rueful smile had made Shuuzou do a double-take, because he realised simultaneously that a) he had both never seen him with with his helmet off despite all the times they'd raced each other, and b) Himuro Tatsuya was potentially the most beautiful person he'd ever seen, including the extraordinarily pretty blond kid who'd just resoundingly beaten them.
They had raced before, but they'd never been introduced, or even spoken. In the face of such beauty, Shuuzou found himself wanting to speak to him, and also stumbling over his Galactic Standard when he did.
"It was a good race," was what he managed to get out, and Tatsuya's short laugh had been rueful and maybe a little bitter.
"Yes," he said. And, "You beat me again."
Honestly, Shuuzou had stopped counting the wins and losses that circulated between himself, Tatsuya, and the other racers of their age, all of whom were losing their places at the forefront of the racing circuit to younger and infinitely more talented pilots. Pilots like the boy who'd just beaten them (the board was still displaying the results to the side while the rest showed the progress of the current race - Ryouta, Kise was the name at the top of the list) and Aomine Daiki, and Akashi Seijuurou, who Shuuzou himself had helped to train, among others.
Still, his own name sat in second place (Shuuzou, Nijimura) above that of Tatsuya, Himuro, so he had hummed, spared him a smile and offered his hand to shake.
It was an ignominious start, Shuuzou would admit, but then, neither one of them was very romantic.
And now here he is, two and a half years later on the other side of the goddamn galaxy from Tatsuya, because his boyfriend is beautiful but also an utterly idiotic little shit, and he'd gone out to train at fucking Kepler 442, and exactly why he'd had to go off that far was beyond Shuuzou, honestly, but it had been six months of inter-system calls and if he didn't love this asshole so much, he's probably have called it by now.
(Tatsuya was a messy pile of insecurity, ambition and pride, and Shuuzou had always known things would be hard, that Tatsuya would be difficult and stubborn; he could give up, could find someone happier or sweeter or more secure, but even at his worst, Shuuzou is proud to say Tatsuya is his messy pile of issues, so he just holds fast and doesn't let Tatsuya convince him he really actually wants to let go.)
When Tatsuya finally answers, he looks like he always does; tired, and pretending not to be. It makes Shuuzou twitch, the urge to order him to eat better, sleep more, fucking rest for a goddamn minute, but he is not Tatsuya's parent, and Tatsuya won't listen anyway.
"Hey," he says instead, because he misses him in all his screwed up glory, and talking to him will be the best part of his day.
"Shuu," Tatsuya greets him, and his tone is warm, a tone directed to very few people and one that Shuuzou treasures, and lets wrap comfortingly around him. "Hi. How are you?"
Better than you, he thinks. "Fine," he actually answers. "Been busy, but its fine."
He never really stops missing Tatsuya, after all, and keeping busy helps to distract him from the dull ache that sits with him all the time, a feeling he's learned to live with because he had to.
"Don't overdo things," Tatsuya says, and Shuuzou snorts as much because he is being hypocritical as because he's always careful about his limits these days.
"What about you?" he asks. Tatsuya will lie - he always does - but Shuuzou will always ask anyway. Maybe one day, Tatsuya will be honest; but until then, Shuuzou has bent himself to the task of learning the tiny ways that Tatsuya gives himself away, the ways that his body tells the truths he tries to hide. It's harder at this distance, when there are literal light years between their physical bodies and Tatsuya just had to choose the one place without virtuality of holo-conference capabilities because the planet and system is still so newly settled that advanced, luxury communications haven't been set up yet.
"I'm great," Tatsuya says. "I'm working hard, but it's going to be worth it."
He's working himself too hard, then. Par the course, really. Shuuzou sighs to himself.
"I miss you," he says - it's easier to say now than it was six months ago, when he blushed red over the sentiment. Tatsuya never says as much, but Shuuzou knows he needs to hear it, and it's why he says it, even though the expression feels so embarrassing and difficult to say.
"Yeah," Tatsuya answers - he never says he misses Shuuzou, and Shuuzou knows he won't admit it, that this is as close as Tatsuya will get to the expression.
He's okay with that; at least, he is now, most of the time. Tatsuya's not the type to openly admit to such close-held things, things that make him feel vulnerable. With the way they're separated, sometimes he feels uneasy, sometimes feels like maybe he doesn't mean to Tatsuya what Tatsuya means to him; but then Tatsuya will say something, remember a date Shuuzou forgot, or his body, the body Shuuzou has been learning for years, that he is still learning, will tell him the things Tatsuya cannot speak, and it settles him.
He never wants to cut their conversations short, but half an hour after Tatsuya picks up the call, Shuuzou can tell he's fighting his exhaustion and refusing to give in to his body's likely desperate need to rest, just to spend a little longer speaking to him, and it makes him feel so endlessly tender towards Tatsuya, as well as annoyed, because he's not taking care of himself.
"Go to bed, Tatsuya," he orders him. "I'll message you tomorrow. Rest, and we'll speak again soon, alright?"
Tatsuya looks like he's going to argue, going to tell Shuuzou that he can stay longer, that he's not that tired, but Shuuzou settles into his patented stubborn face, and evidently Tatsuya doesn't have the spare energy to argue.
"Alright," Tatsuya says. He's got a regretful look on his beautiful face that Shuuzou wants to erase. "We'll talk in a few days?"
"Yeah," Shuuzou agrees. "So finish getting better soon and come home, idiot."
Tatsuya laughs at that, and Shuuzou is glad to get a smile on his face again before they say goodnight. Their talks should make Tatsuya feel better, easier about the distance he's put between them.
"Rest well, Tatsuya," he says and Tatsuya returns the wish before the screen goes dark.
Shuuzou sits up, sighs, stretches and attempts not to dwell on how empty their apartment feels again.