p:hayamiya

Adsdsddf no me resistí y lo hice. Tenía que hacer esto, ya saben que siempre llegan mis momentos de estupidez.
Es que estaban listo para el beso, solo tenían que acercarse más y ya sentirían la respiración del otro.
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Adsdsddf not resist me and I did. He had to do this, you know that always come my moments of stupidity.
Is that they were ready for the kiss, just had to get closer and longer feel the breath of the other.
(Sorry for the english)

[drabble: HayaMiya]

“The way you dribble pisses me off.”

The vein on Miyaji’s forehead threatened to pop justas Hayama dribbled past him. Lately, using only three fingers to dribble wasn’tgood enough to pass him.

“I thought you said it’s admirable,” Hayama teased as he slammed the ball through the hoop. He was now four points ahead.

“It is. But it also pisses me off.”

They had often spent their time like this: together, on some abandoned court behind residential buildings, dribbling the night away. Hayama couldn’t have asked for a better adrenaline rush; nothing ignited him like playing against Miyaji.

And playing against Miyaji was easy. It was a mixture of awe, when Miyaji displayed his street ball dribbling prowess, and excitement, when Hayama managed to leave Miyaji in a cloud of dust as he dribbled past. It was just muscle exertion and healthy rivalry.  

What bothered Hayama always happened afterwards.

Miyaji picked up his towel and wiped the sweat off his neck and face, and then mussed the sticky hair off his forehead. He stretched briefly, panting softly when he hit the sore spot. Hayama followed his every move, fidgeting as he did the same.

“I’ll get you back next time,” Miyaji announced, not sounding nearly as irritated as he looked, as they walked on their way to the train station.

“You can try~” Hayama teased as he fell into step with Miyaji.

Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down, Hayama chanted.

And then he looked down.

Miyaji’s hand.

The beautiful, slender, long-fingered hand. The hand he dribbled with. The hand he used to smack his underclassmen on the head to get them in line. The hand he high-fived his teammates with.

The hand Hayama wanted to hold.

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