prillalar: (apples)
prillalar ([personal profile] prillalar) wrote2006-05-09 11:30 pm

AftS Fic: A Winner Never Quits, Misaki/Tachiki

1. Fic by other people:

Type Slowly by [livejournal.com profile] marksykins. Inui/Fuji. Marks, I'm going to eat your brain.

Boys Who Wear Glasses 1/4, by [livejournal.com profile] mayhap. Inui/Tezuka. Megane Pair and Quiz Bowl. Who could resist?

Three Percent by [livejournal.com profile] disutansu. InuKai. Mmm, sweet. Helen, if you get seduced away from InuKai into ZoLu, [livejournal.com profile] fffshuuu and I are going to have to have a cage match beat-down over you.

2. Drabble requests are being worked on. More tomorrow, I hope.

3. Fic by me, for [livejournal.com profile] mousapelli, who wanted drippy Asakawa:

A Winner Never Quits
Aim for the Sky!, Asakawa, Misaki/Tachiki, PG13, 600 words.
Asakawa has an incident.


"And he said--" Asakawa sniffed and swiped his hand across his nose. "He said that I was a quitter!"

Misaki dug for his handkerchief. Which he had last used when Tachiki cornered him in the supply closet in the home ec classroom while their chocolate cookies were baking. He left it in his pocket. He was so going to fail home ec.

He patted Asakawa's shoulder awkwardly. "I'm sure he didn't mean it like that."

"He said that a real man would have stuck with it!" Tears ran down Asakawa's face and his lower lip trembled. "Then he hissed at me!"

"Okay, maybe he did mean it like that, but you shouldn't let it get to you."

"He said that lacrosse was stupid!" Asakawa beat his fists on Misaki's chest. Misaki staggered back, rubbing his breastbone. Asakawa leapt forward, like some sort of leaping, tree-dwelling marsupial, and clung to Misaki's shirt. "LACROSSE ISN'T STUPID!"

Every bone in Misaki's body amplified the yell and his ears were going to ring for hours. "Uh...of course it's not. He's just...jealous that we won our first game and they...um..." Various bodily fluids soaked through Misaki's shirt. "Do you want a chocolate cookie? They're a little burnt but--"

Asakawa tipped his head back and stared into Misaki's face. His eyes were red and wide and filled with tragic tragedy. His lower lip had progressed from trembling to a full-on wobble. "You'll help me, right, Misaki?"

Two first-year girls walked by, looking sidelong at Misaki and giggling. Misaki could feel his face getting red. "Of course, I'll--"

"So you'll beat him up for me?"

"Sure, I'll...what?" Don't look at the lower lip, Misaki told himself. Don't look at the big sad eyes. "Don't you think that's a bit extreme?"

"HE SAID LACROSSE WAS STUPID!" A button popped off Misaki's shirt as Asakawa's hands twisted into fists and suddenly Misaki wasn't sure which one of them he'd rather face right now.

"I'll call Sato, shall I?" Tachiki slouched up out of thin air.

"But shouldn't we...?" Misaki glanced up, then back down at Asakawa, who was mashing his wet face into Misaki's neck.

"Sure," Tachiki said. "I'll comfort Asakawa and you go fight Kaidoh." He bent down and picked up the loose button. "If you need us, we'll be in the haunted bathroom on the second floor."

Misaki closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay, call him." Something was dripping down his chest. "It's all right, Asakawa. Sato will be here soon."

"And he'll beat him up?"

A crowd was starting to gather, just far off enough that Misaki's glare had no effect. "Sure, he'll take care of things."

Tachiki closed his mobile. "Two minutes." He turned the button over between his fingers, flipping it over the back of his knuckles. "And I'm sure Natsumi-chan will be glad to sew this back on for you."

Asakawa's shoulders were beginning to shake. Misaki put his arm around him.

"Or we could just take him over to the bathroom now." Tachiki fixed Misaki with that flat, bored stare that was somehow even more dangerous that Asakawa's lower lip.

Some days Misaki wondered if he really should have stuck with tennis.

Sato ran up and Misaki transferred Asakawa. "What's the matter?" Sato asked.

"LACROSSE ISN'T STUPID!"

"Of course it's not," Sato said, patting Asakawa's back.

Misaki plucked at his shirt, pulling the damp spots away from his skin. Tachiki grabbed his wrist. "Thanks," Tachiki said to Sato. "We're late."

"Late?" Misaki said.

"Home ec make-up project," Tachiki said and pulled Misaki down the hall.

-fin-


4. I so need to figure out an AftS icon.

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