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seleniasTitle: Sender
Fandom: Natsume Yuujinchou
Characters/pairing: Seiji/Shuuichi
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 325
Notes: They find an old baseball and some gloves. Insert some bad joke here about catching and receiving.
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Natori drew back his arm and snapped it forward. The ball flew straight and clean and landed in the open glove with a loud smack.
Seiji turned it around in his hands a couple times. Some of the red stitching had come loose on the ball, determining whereabouts the youkai in question had chewed on it, unsuccessfully stripping it. It was Natori’s fault for goading him into a game of toss, and now he was suffering the consequences, throwing a ball in the smothering heat of August, sweat making his shirt stick in large, damp patches across his back. He could have said no. He had only wanted to see whether Natori would follow through with his taunt -- which he did. Adequately. A half hour of this mindlessness was beginning to dull him.
“I’m waiting, Seiji.”
He grinned, brushed the sweat out of his eyes. “In a minute.”
Natori groaned loudly and miserably. “You don’t need to look at it, just throw it. Otherwise we’re done. It’s hot.”
He hadn’t held a baseball before. He also certainly hadn’t worn a mitt before, but he knew what they symbolized for students his age, long days of summer sitting in front of fans, simultaneously wishing for winter while the heat turned their bones to jelly.
There were other things he could be doing, more practical, more important. And yet. Standing in an open field on the edge of town with the river running past was where he found himself, tossing a ball back and forth, watching the sun set and whitewash Natori into gold and blue blurs. He’d picked the wrong side of the field to stand on.
“Shuuichi-san, do you suppose you could ever throw paper as well as these?”
“What. Nevermind that paper doesn’t work like tha -- Seiji-kun!”
Natori caught the off center throw with an answering snarl and jump -- it was, Seiji supposed, as much of an answer as he would get.
Fandom: Natsume Yuujinchou
Characters/pairing: Seiji/Shuuichi
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 325
Notes: They find an old baseball and some gloves. Insert some bad joke here about catching and receiving.
-
Natori drew back his arm and snapped it forward. The ball flew straight and clean and landed in the open glove with a loud smack.
Seiji turned it around in his hands a couple times. Some of the red stitching had come loose on the ball, determining whereabouts the youkai in question had chewed on it, unsuccessfully stripping it. It was Natori’s fault for goading him into a game of toss, and now he was suffering the consequences, throwing a ball in the smothering heat of August, sweat making his shirt stick in large, damp patches across his back. He could have said no. He had only wanted to see whether Natori would follow through with his taunt -- which he did. Adequately. A half hour of this mindlessness was beginning to dull him.
“I’m waiting, Seiji.”
He grinned, brushed the sweat out of his eyes. “In a minute.”
Natori groaned loudly and miserably. “You don’t need to look at it, just throw it. Otherwise we’re done. It’s hot.”
He hadn’t held a baseball before. He also certainly hadn’t worn a mitt before, but he knew what they symbolized for students his age, long days of summer sitting in front of fans, simultaneously wishing for winter while the heat turned their bones to jelly.
There were other things he could be doing, more practical, more important. And yet. Standing in an open field on the edge of town with the river running past was where he found himself, tossing a ball back and forth, watching the sun set and whitewash Natori into gold and blue blurs. He’d picked the wrong side of the field to stand on.
“Shuuichi-san, do you suppose you could ever throw paper as well as these?”
“What. Nevermind that paper doesn’t work like tha -- Seiji-kun!”
Natori caught the off center throw with an answering snarl and jump -- it was, Seiji supposed, as much of an answer as he would get.
