Fic in 20 minutes again. Okay, maybe 22.

Creed

There are times when Sendoh watches Maki play basketball, and he watches with an admiration that goes beyond what it really is, a veneration, respect. When Sendoh watches Maki, he sees the ball go in perfectly, takes into consideration his technique and approach, but beyond that, he sees skin. He sees sweat and muscles and the beauty of it all, the contrast and the glint of light against coffee colored flesh.

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Maki never looks at him when he plays, never searches for him in the bleachers. Maki never notices Sendoh’s eyes burning holes into him, into every part of him. He doesn’t feel the desire from ten rows away, fourth seat to the left. He never gives a thumbs-up sign, never winks, never looks over at Sendoh when he’s scored. But Sendoh smiles when the ball sails in. Sometimes he claps.

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Maki is ahead of Sendoh in uncountable ways, his steps are too far for Sendoh to catch up to, and Maki doesn’t look back.

But just when Sendoh feels like giving up, Maki stops. He waits.

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When they are alone, it’s different. Sendoh closes his eyes, and Maki watches him breathe, try to breathe. Maki loses himself, and Sendoh already has, but it feels good to be lost in the same place, together. When they are alone, Maki stares at Sendoh, and he feels his skin burn, and it isn’t admiration. It’s an obsession, it’s beyond respect, more than a veneration.

Maki worships Sendoh during these times, and when Sendoh opens his eyes again, Maki finds a new religion.

FIN

orangensaft, I know it isn't very good, but, yeah.


Will sleep now.