A/N: *coughcough*doneawaywithisShinphemismformasturbation*coughcough* The ending is too perfect to ruin with this note at the end.

What do they like most about each other?

Intensity:

From the moment he met Shin, Seijuuro, Sena knew this guy was intense. He radiated it, an almost palpable aura that had him trembling and sweating in fear. He'd wanted to run, had even almost done it. Shin was too much everything. Cared too much, tackled too hard, ran too fast, and glared like he could beat Sena to the ground by gaze alone.

By the end of that first game, though, fear had melted into awe. He wanted to break through that intensity. He wanted Shin to be surprised by Sena. The poorly constructed imaginings of Shin returning the awe, of turning his intense disappointment into equally fervent admiration, had Sena's blood pumping too hot and too fast.

When he did, it tore down those paltry daydreams, ripped them up like useless bits of paper, and blew them away. All that approval, that admiration, the respect had Sena's head reeling, until suddenly it was his heart reeling. He'd never quite stopped its wild spinning around the hyper-focused linebacker.

But it was okay, because- above and beyond Sena's most hopelessly yearning dreams- Shin returned those feelings. Returned them with the same devoted fervor he put into everything. Intense, breathtaking, and unwavering, those were the traits that defined their burgeoning relationship. Maybe it should be scary, or at least unnerving, having that burning intensity resting on his shoulders, but Sena blossomed under it, soaked it up like a greedy sponge.

Tenacity:

Whenever someone asked Shin to describe Eyeshield 21, Kobayakawa Sena, tenacity was the first word that had always come to mind. From even their first game, Shin had felt it. Under the quavering and poor experience, Shin had seen the drive to never give up burning in that tiny body that ran too fast without direction or goal. The moment there was a goal, however, Sena never surrendered until he reached it.

During the last seconds of so many games, he'd pulled through. He'd fainted on the field to gain that last, winning touchdown. He had run a thousand miles kicking a tiny rock just to overcome his fatal weakness, without even knowing he was doing so. Sena had beaten him, Riku, and Panther, faced down Agon, stood up to Gaou and Marco, won the Christmas Bowl in his very first year of playing, and won the right to the name Eyeshield 21 from the overly confident and supremely skilled Yamato. He'd even gone to America to prove his worth yet again, both in the World Cup and later in Notre Dame.

Of everyone he'd ever met, Shin had never met someone as incredibly tenacious and driven as Sena Kobayakawa. It was the best and most amazing thing about him.

Honesty:

Well, honestly (heh), sometimes Shin was too honest. But Sena always knew where he stood with Shin. If he ever had doubts or confusions, Shin's answer would be simple, easily given, and perfectly clear. He never had to worry about not trusting Shin, because Shin could never be a liar, or a sneak, or a manipulator. Shin would only ever say what he thought and what he meant.

Once Sena had truly gotten to know him, he had never been scared of Shin again. Impressed, or intimidated occasionally, yes. Terrified? No.

Energy:

The Oujou Knight knew himself well. He knew he had endurance and stamina to spare. He trained relentlessly to ensure those things. But energetic? That was something distinct, a subtle implication differentiating 'having energy' from 'energetic'. And energetic Shin was not.

That was Sena. With his rapid explosive dashing to the overwhelmingly busy schedule filled with school, amefuto, and friends that he never truly complained about or resented, just constantly followed through with. The smiles that never stopped, the laugh that came easy and sure, the happy stream of conversation, the blushing cheeks and stammers.

Shin would take it all in, silent and fond, watching the animation in that kind, gentle face he'd come to think as beautiful. He never felt like he had to work to keep up. Instead, Sena filled up his silences and softened his cold edges. Where Shin was stoic and calm, Sena was lively and warm. It was the best kind of juxtaposition, almost poetically perfect.

Dedicationand abs:

Becoming the fastest, strongest linebacker in Japan's amefuto league.

Eating strict meals at specific times and never deviating for a decade.

Being able to find a way to exercise or train in any environment, with any landmark or tool at hand (even a giant bull's head on a friggin' restaurant!).

Constantly improving and increasing his skills.

Getting back up every time he fell, improving every time he failed.

Learning what it means to 'like' someone and throwing himself into it wholeheartedly.

And the list goes on and on. Dedication beyond anything Sena had ever seen in any other person. There was no backing down, no short cuts or cheats; when Shin put his mind to something, he did it. Sena would watch from the Oujou practice-field bench, resting his aching legs from the game the day before, or from the practice he'd just left less than an hour before, and be in awe of the testimony to that dedication. The flawless run, the powerful impact of his hand on an opponent, the seemingly endless endurance of his constant motion during scrimmages and exercises. Sena trained a lot, he played a lot of football, he ate well enough and lifted plenty of weights. But he'd never have an ode to his commitment like Shin's body was to his. Maybe Sena enjoyed the taut stretch of skin over flexing muscles, or the carved from friggin' marble look to his drool-worthy abs a bit more than a fellow sportsman should, but well.

He was allowed, so enjoy every aspect of Shin's dedication Sena definitely would.

Unreservedly kind and patient:

There'd been a few times Shin had been called kind, even sweet. Mostly to his own bewilderment, since he didn't see himself as such. He did things that seemed right, that seemed good, and if it made Sena smile like that and say strange things about how kind Shin was, well, at least Sena appreciated it. He was doing something right, and that was enough.

But Sena? Sena was kind. Sena made the people around him smile, even if he got nothing from it. He went out of his way to make people feel better, to find their strengths and rise above their weaknesses. He forgave, and forgave, and forgave so many times. His own ex-teammates and current friends had once tried to beat him senseless, threatened him with a baseball bat, but he'd forgiven them when they had proven to have grown and changed. He didn't carry a grudge or an ounce of resentment, and honestly, wholeheartedly supported them with their struggles and accomplishments alike.

He was patient and trusting and believed the best in people. Even when he was terrified or intimidated or in pain, a part of him would be ready to listen and understand the other side of the story.

Being friends with Shin was already difficult and confusing, Shin was well aware. Sena not only had become one of Shin's closest friends, he'd become his lover. He took all those difficult traits, those confusing quirks, and accepted them. He compromised and bent like a grass to the wind and tried so hard to make Shin happy. To understand what Shin needed. Whenever he felt like he'd pushed too far, he stepped back and let Shin re-evaluate and process. He'd laugh and tease, but he would retreat to give Shin the space he needed.

Sena made his life better just by being kind and patient, never asking Shin to be anything else but himself and loving him for it. How could Shin not return those feelings and then some?

Intelligence, Fairness, Sincerity:

Some footballers were brainless jocks. Others were bullies in disguise. Some liked the rush and the violence more than the teamwork. Tactics were for quarterbacks and coaches, bull-rushing and tackling was the important part.

While Shin had the look, and definitely the body, of a brainless violent jock, he wasn't. He wasn't even particularly violent. He didn't exult in causing pain, he enjoyed taking on an opponent, on pushing his and the other's limits. He only ever had respect for power and strength, never gloated proudly in it. Being strong, being a footballer, was about the challenge. About proving your own worth and supporting a team.

When an opponent was weaker, he didn't push them down in triumph, only felt disappointment his own limits couldn't be tested. He didn't enjoy the chase and hunt for weaker prey, or relish in their fear. He did his duty, nothing more, nothing less. And when someone proved stronger, or faster, he didn't resent them. He congratulated them. He pushed himself to be stronger, to be a challenge again, to help them improve themselves as well as him. Just his relationship with Sena- before the feelings and kissings and stuff- was testimony to the fairness Shin treated those on the field with. He didn't kick an opponent while they were down, and he didn't hold back anything that may help them grow.

He was smart, he was fair, and he was genuine. Nothing about him was fake or phony. Nothing about him was held back, nothing was a mystery or a secret, not if you went out of your way to approach him or to ask outright. Subtlety was not his strongest suit, and he never cultivated an image he couldn't honestly measure up to.

He was the strongest person Sena had ever met. In every way that mattered. How could anyone else compare?

Bravery:

Timid. Shy. Bashful. Quiet. Self-conscious.

All could describe a very visible aspect of Sena's personality. Even Shin wasn't blind enough to not see these things. Over the past few years, since they'd met, there had been obvious growth and Sena was more confident in himself, it was true. But the timidity still colored so many of his responses. He still stuttered and worried about pushing people too far, about saying the wrong things, about facing down something new.

The thing is… he overcame those urges. Again and again, he barreled through his fear and bashfulness. He stuttered out questions he would've been too shy to say in high school, he met his opponents' eyes and refused to back down, he stepped onto a new battleground and stared down the goliaths in front of him. When pushed down, he got back up. When he fell, he got back up. Bruised and battered by someone stronger, bigger, faster, angrier, holding a weapon with bloodlust in their hearts, Sena would still get back up. He might've been a gopher for bullies, but there still had been moments where he had stood his ground, where he limped back to his feet and bit the hand of an attacker to protect the few he cared about and who cared about him (yes, Juumonji had told Shin that story). Even Shin had been a wall he'd bashed himself against, desperately brave and determined to succeed at last.

He was the strongest person Shin had ever met. In every way that mattered. How could anyone else compare?

Unashamedly Romantic, and surprisingly Kind and Gentle:

There were things about Shin that anyone could see, had seen. Then there were the things that only Sena was privy to, the special things that existed just between the two of them.

Like how he cradled Sena's face when they kissed, or wrapped an arm around his waist when they stood or sat close, or closed his eyes in pleasure when he lay his head on Sena's lap and leaned into the stroking of Sena's fingers through his hair. Private, golden moments for Sena and Sena alone. Then there were the things he said that made Sena's heart beat too fast and his face blush too red. Like his favorite color, said so earnestly as he met Sena's brown eyes.

Or when he kissed Sena desperate for giving him pictures, because he hated not being able to remember Sena's face in his own mind. Because he could look at the picture and tell himself this is what the boy I love looks like.

Or how he never forgot an anniversary and remembered a fleeting moment over ten years ago and took Sena there to remind him. Just to lead up to saying I love you and meaning it.

The way he tried so hard to make Sena happy, asking and confirming every step of the way. Even going so far as to buy a phone to make communication easier, despite how gingerly and carefully he treated it in his perpetual confusion and disdain.

But really, the thing he loved most was seeing Shin coaching those kids. He loved watching Shin play 'ball, and in his heart of hearts, he wouldn't enjoy the NFL quite as fully without Shin either on his team or in the league with him as his competitor once again. But he couldn't help but love watching Shin coaching those kids. His large, strong hands capable of immense pain turned gentle, his shouts and glares turned into something teddy-bear-like in the adoring faces of his minions. (The religious-like obedience for the whistle never got old, either.)

So many people saw Shin as the amefuto player, the "robot" guy, the frowny guy, or even the stoically silent hot guy. Sena was one of the lucky few (who wasn't a small child) who saw the sweet and caring guardian underneath. If everything else hadn't already captivated him, he would've fallen in love with 'Shin-sensei', headfirst.

His Laugh:

Shin thought things were funny. Other things pleased him, or made him happy. He'd recently re-learned his love for ice cream and mangoes (why had he stopped eating those?).

But… it didn't really show on his face. It wasn't just because he'd grown into this kind of person. He'd always been this way. Even as a child, he'd been reticent and stoic. Expressiveness had always been difficult and he'd found it hard not to consider the world around him seriously. His mother and father used to joke about how he'd been born frowning and pensive, taking in the new sights and sounds and smells and adjusting to them accordingly.

His early troubles regarding his… condition hadn't exactly brought him out of that shell. Instead, learning that a huge part of the world around him was out of his reach, and he didn't know why or even, really, what he was missing, had pulled him further into his own head. Silently, painfully, while figuring out how to live around his affliction, as he thought it had been.

Sena broke his quiet world, shattered it, with easy laughter. He wasn't gregarious by any means, nor the most outgoing. But laughter, and smiling, came easily to him. It lit up his face, his body would shake with it, cheeks sometimes ruddy and eyes shining. Sometimes he laughed so hard he even cried, thin streaks of tears trailing from the corners of his eyes, or gathering along his lashes. Sena smiled, bright and joyful, when surrounded by his friends, when he won a game, or even just accomplished a good play.

Yes, Sena brought that out in Shin; the tiny smiles and huffs of laughter that Sena coaxed from him easier than anyone else could, for a variety of reasons. But it wasn't because of that that Shin liked it so much. He just liked knowing, definitively, that Sena was happy.

Equal, NeverLess:

What Sena likes the most about Shin is how Shin doesn't look down on him. Doesn't pat his head like a puppy, doesn't think he's stupid or useless. Even with all of Sena's mistakes and flaws, Shin looks at him as an equal, a comrade and partner, a rival, a challenge, and a friend. So many words to describe him, but never inferior. When Shin helped train him for the Christmas Bowl, he hadn't talked down to him. He had high aspirations and every confidence Sena would ascendthem. He takes for granted that everyone can see Sena the way he can. Someone brave and good and strong.

He sees the best in Sena, when Sena normally sees only the worst. He believes absolutely in Sena's strength.

Shin thinks he's brave. That he's strong.

He doesn't just like it, he loves how Shin sees him and how he treats him. Their age gap is negligible, their difference in appearance doesn't compute, the disparity between intelligence just numbers on paper—nothing can make Shin think less of Sena than when Sena disappoints himself. Instead of giving up on him, of shaking his head and realizing he deserves someone better, he merely has unshaken faith that Sena will soon bounce back, stronger than ever.

There's no doubt in Shin. He trusts Sena in same way Sena trusts Shin.

So Sena is faster, and stronger, he bounces back and tries harder. He proves Shin right, over and over and over again, because he loves the man that sees the best in him. The idea of ever letting him down impossible. Inconceivable.

Only his equal, never an inferior. Never less.

Superhuman, but Never Inhuman:

It's the way Sena looks at him. When their eyes meet, and Shin can see every ephemeral feature in perfect detail, especially that look. The look that cuts in the sweetest way straight to the core of him.

Superhuman, but not inhuman. That's the way Sena looks at him.

It's not idolization, nor is it like glimpsing a trophy on a pedestal to be striven for, definitely not seeing only a robotin a thin coating of flesh.

No, Sena sees something amazing. Someone who exceeds every expectation, who has never let him down, who he trusts never would or could. As if every imperfection is gold in the cracks of the porcelain vase of his personality. That every thought is important, every statement filed away to be remembered, treasured. Every feeling and emotion and memory a precious piece that makes up an all-important whole. Shin is a complete person in Sena's eyes. Loved, adored, and desired.

So Shin is faster, stronger, better when Sena looks at him. He loves that look, that overwhelming belief that 'runneth over' in Sena's gaze. He loves the young man that looksand sees a man worth loving, completely and without hesitation, in return.

Never inhuman, only superhuman.