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Kazuya should know better than to scroll through social media after games, but it’s a habit he can’t seem to shake.
It’s late in the evening — early in the morning at this point, really — and he slips further and further into the hell that is Twitter with every passing minute. The frown on his face only deepens, and he’s glad Eijun is sound asleep beside him. He’d surely tease Kazuya about his muscles freezing like that.
The loss had nothing to do with his own performance, nor with Eijun’s. Eijun was spot on, allowing only one run in six innings, and Kazuya had slammed a triple in the fourth. The rest of the offense just couldn’t get it together, and the reliever had allowed three in the top of the ninth. At that point, there was little to be done.
Armchair critics, though, always want to pick apart every moment of the game. They could tell Kazuya was getting tired in the eighth. They saw the moment the reliever slipped up, his form loosening and his throwing getting sloppy. These guys, they listen to one baseball podcast and think they could step into Kazuya’s shoes. He huffs angrily as he continues scrolling.
Eijun grumbles beside him and turns over, throwing his arm over Kazuya’s waist. A wave of guilt breaks over him. His frustration shouldn’t be waking Eijun up, not when he deserves his hard-earned rest. He runs his fingers through Eijun’s hair, hoping to soothe him back to sleep.
“Why are you still up?” slurs Eijun, lifting his head from the pillow.
“Can’t sleep,” Kazuya replies with a sigh. He looks down at Eijun, whose face is covered in lines from the fabric of the pillowcase and who has a bit of drool hanging out of the side of his mouth, and a painful bout of fondness squeezes his heart.
“You better not be on Twitter,” Eijun says.
Kazuya laughs quietly. “You know me too well.”
“Miyuki Kazuya,” Eijun grumbles, sitting up and leaning heavily into Kazuya’s side. “You’re terrible. You know better.”
Kazuya can’t help but press a kiss to Eijun’s forehead. “Go back to sleep. I’m fine.”
Eijun snatches the phone from Kazuya’s hands before he can protest, his reflexes lightning fast even though he’s just woken up. He sets the phone on his bedside table and clicks the lamp on. “You go back to sleep.”
“Can’t go back to sleep if I wasn’t asleep in the first place,” Kazuya observes.
Eijun huffs. “You know what I mean.”
Kazuya hums, reaching down and lacing their fingers together. “You were incredible today, you know.”
Eijun hums and smiles. “I’m incredible every day.”
“Take the compliment, Eijun.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eijun wraps his arm around Kazuya’s waist. “You were pretty incredible yourself. We make a damn good battery.”
“Good team,” Kazuya agrees. “Which reminds me, did you set the grocery delivery for tomorrow or Saturday?”
“For Saturday, why?”
“Just double checking, we’ve got that pitchers-catchers meeting tomorrow night and I don’t know how late it’s going to go.”
“I remembered.”
“You really are the best.”
“Mm, you know how to make a guy feel good.” Eijun’s fingers dance over Kazuya’s hip. He slips Kazuya’s tank top up just a little and leans over to press a kiss to the revealed sliver of skin. “Hey. I know I tell you this every time you get into one of those doom-scrolls, but don’t listen to what they're saying on the Internet, alright? You’re the best catcher for me and the best catcher for our team. There’s no one who could replace you, alright?”
The words affect Kazuya more than he wants to admit, but it’s one in the morning and everything feels more intense at one in the morning. He coughs, trying to cover the lump in his throat. “Except maybe Chris-senpai.”
“Okay, well, obviously he’s the exception to the rule.”
Kazuya laughs. “You’d marry Chris-senpai if you could.”
Eijun lets out an offended gasp. “I would not marry Chris-senpai even if he asked me a hundred times, Miyuki Kazuya! You’re my boyfriend and if I’m gonna marry anyone, it’s gonna be you.”
Kazuya chuckles, turning so that he can press his lips to Eijun’s temple. “Well then, why don’t you marry me, Eijun?”
Eijun turns to him and beams, much brighter than he should be able to at one-something in the morning. “Miyuki Kazuya, I thought you’d never ask.”
Kazuya watches in confusion as Eijun steals his hand away and leans off his side of the bed. There’s a sound like rummaging in the drawers, and he comes back with two small velvet boxes. He presses one into Kazuya’s hands.
“Tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” Kazuya says slowly.
“I think you’d know if you opened the box,” Eijun answers.
There’s a moment where Kazuya hesitates, because he does, in fact, know what’s inside the box, and he realizes this is going to be the last moment of his life where he isn’t engaged. This is the last moment of his life where he won’t belong to Eijun — except that isn’t true, either. He’s belonged to Eijun since the moment they struck out Azuma together.
He takes a deep breath, breathing in the silence, the anticipation, the smile on Eijun’s face.
And then he dives in.
Inside the box are two rings. One is a simple silver band with two diamonds inlaid, and the other is a grey silicone band. Kazuya appreciates immediately that Eijun knows his taste so well, knows he wouldn’t want anything extravagant. He slips the ring onto his finger, and it’s a perfect fit, because of course it is. How Eijun knew his ring size without asking is beyond his comprehension, but it’s Eijun. There’s magic in him, and Kazuya knows better by now than to question it.
“The silicone is for when we’re playing,” Eijun says. “So you don’t have to jam your fancy ring into your nasty glove.”
“Yours is nastier,” Kazuya retorts automatically, but there are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. Damn Eijun for being so thoughtful. “Gimme yours and let me put it on you.”
“Don’t be so bossy,” Eijun answers, but he hands over the box anyway. His ring matches, but where there were two diamonds in Kazuya’s, there is only one in Eijun’s. He takes it out of the box with shaking hands and slides it onto Eijun’s finger, where it also fits perfectly.
“Aren’t you gonna ask me for real?” Eijun questions.
Kazuya huffs. “You’re already wearing the ring, we did it all out of order.”
“Does it matter? I wanna say yes, I’ll marry you.”
“You just said it!”
“Ask me anyway!”
Kazuya laughs, watery and thin, and holds Eijun’s hands in his own. “Will you, Sawamura Eijun, eternal pain in my ass, my ace, my number one, do me the honor of being my lawfully wedded husband?”
Eijun beams. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you, Miyuki Kazuya!”
The boxes are knocked off their laps as Eijun tackles Kazuya, straddling his lap and kissing him deeply. Kazuya doesn’t realize the tears have fallen down his face until Eijun pulls away and wipes his thumb under Kazuya’s eye.
“No need to cry,” Eijun teases, kissing the tear stains on Kazuya’s cheeks.
“Shut up and kiss me some more,” Kazuya answers, and Eijun does just that.
Later, when they’re drenched in afterglow and Eijun is wearing a sleepy smile on his face, Kazuya admires the ring on his finger. The light catches it just right so that the diamonds shine brilliantly. He really can’t believe just how right it feels on his hand, how perfectly it fits his finger and how perfectly ‘them’ it looks. “How long have you had these?”
Eijun chuckles. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Hey, sure I would. Don’t doubt me.”
Eijun raises an eyebrow and a slight blush appears on his cheeks. “I bought them with the advance from our first Mets check.”
Kazuya frowns. They’d come over from Japan together after Eijun graduated high school, still young and with stars in their eyes, their hands entwined on the plane across the sea. They’d insisted they wouldn’t play on different teams, but the only team that would take them both was the Mets, who’d come in last in their division the last three years running. Now they’ve been with the team going on five years and have led them to a National Championship.
“We’d only been dating six months,” Kazuya questions. “You knew then?”
Eijun smiles. “Kazuya, I knew the moment that first pitch landed in your glove.”
Kazuya blinks, thinking about how Eijun’s words echo Kazuya’s own thoughts from earlier. Eijun is stubborn to the end, confident in everything he does, and his. All his, for the rest of their lives.
“I love you,” Kazuya murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips against Eijun’s again.
He feels rather than sees the way Eijun’s mouth curves into a smile. “I love you, too.”