But I had to write something, I'm only human, so here's a bit of a thing.
Oh sisters, let's go down,
Down to the river to pray.
Water by Halrloprillalar
Prince of Tennis, InuKai, PG, 450 words.
Pre-Nationals. Inui watches.
Spoilers: OVA 5. For the love of Karupin, watch it first. Or instead.
Kaidoh is standing in the water, wet to his calves, working his arms. He runs 10K with the weights in his bag, then comes to the river to lift them, curling both arms at once, as many reps as Inui will allow. Inui knows he does more when he gets home.
Five days until Nationals. Inui bends over his notebook, trying to cram a few more facts into his brain. But he can hear Kaidoh's breath jerk out with every rep and Inui's eyes slip off the page and over Kaidoh's thighs, his hips, his arms.
Kaidoh's skin is flecked with sweat or water from the river. Inui watches his arms move, biceps, triceps, brachialis, over and over like machines swinging on an assembly line. Kaidoh wades to the edge and drops the weights onto the bank. Inui hands him a towel.
All Kaidoh wants to do is work out. Not that Kaidoh ever doesn't want to work out, but now he trains all the time and if Inui wants to spend time with him, he's got to train too. Or watch.
So Inui watches Kaidoh wipe his neck and arms, his thighs and calves, burned dark from the sun. It drives the words from Inui's head, makes everything inside him clench, heart and liver and lungs.
"Inui-senpai," Kaidoh says and Inui's eyes move up to Kaidoh's face. There's a crease in Kaidoh's forehead and his eyelids drop for as long as it takes Inui to set his notebook on the ground and stand. Kaidoh's fingers curl into half a fist and he lifts his chin to look right at Inui.
But he doesn't speak. "Kaidoh? What is it?" Inui reaches out to touch Kaidoh's shoulder, then thinks better of it. But Kaidoh catches Inui's arm and his fingers slide down Inui's wrist until he's holding Inui's hand.
They stand like that for a moment, on the river bank, in the open, and Inui can't help but smile. "Kaidoh," he says again and pulls him into the shadow under the overpass. They sit on the grass and Kaidoh lets Inui kiss his face, his mouth, his shoulder. Kaidoh's arms go around Inui's waist and they slip down the incline a little way, moving together like the water over the rocks, and Inui has no words for just how good it feels.
Kaidoh packs the weights into his bag before they leave. "Don't overwork yourself," Inui says. Kaidoh nods and runs off.
Inui picks up his notebook and slides it into his bag. He looks at Kaidoh's footprints in the soft earth of the bank. Then he heads home to cram more data and daydream.
Maybe tomorrow Kaidoh will say what he's thinking.