I only want you to notice me! - fic (2/2)
Title: I only want you to notice me! (2/2)
Fandom: Eyeshield 21
Pairing: Kou/Aka
Rating: PG 13 for naughty words and the implied
Summary: Where Koutarou tries his best to get Akaba to realise his existence. And where Koutarou dearly regrets it when he succeeds.
If anyone asked Koutarou why he hated Akaba, he would immediately say, because he’s a freak.
If anyone asked Koutarou why he still hung out with Akaba, he would scream shut up! And wave his comb threateningly in that person’s face.
If it was Julie that asked Koutarou why he was still treating Akaba badly, he would say, because that guy is too damn annoying with all his talk about music and his obnoxious guitar playing.
Personally, Julie thought that Koutarou was still sour about the attention Akaba was still getting. Without the starters, he was viewed even more as their saviour, and some of the first years had taken to calling him Akaba-sama (following his fanclub’s nickname for him), much to Koutarou’s disgust.
Akaba-sama, she had heard him say sarcastically once, please can you sign me an autograph?
Non-plussed, Akaba had easily responded with a, no need with the honorifics, you’re entitled to a signature anytime, Koutarou.
And Julie had giggled at the resulting crash that was Koutarou launching himself at Akaba.
-
Why did you come back? Was the question that was always at the tip of his tongue. But he’d never asked, because he never dared, and he dreaded the answer that would come. The answer he wanted was the one he was least likely to get, and he wasn’t (that much of) an idiot to set himself up for a heartbreak.
Rather, he had taken to asking Julie to go out with him.
She would always reject him because her female intuition told her that there was someone else he liked, and that someone else probably had no clue. So she took it upon herself to ask Akaba, because he was the only other person Koutarou seemed to take to well.
Akaba, she motioned for him to follow her out of the clubhouse one day.
Is there something you need? He asked as he followed her to a distance away.
I just wanted to ask, she whispered, eyes glancing furtively around, if you have any idea of who it is that Koutarou likes.
Akaba raised both eyebrows at the question. Pardon?
Julie pouted, Mou, don’t tell me he didn’t tell you anything either! That boy… she puffed out her cheeks, placed her hands on her hips and was just about to launch into a tirade about Koutarou’s fallings when said person appeared, not looking too happy at finding the both of them alone together.
Akaba! He roared, I thought I told you that Julie’s off-limits!
Akaba smiled faintly at her, and Julie felt guilty for dragging him into it - but not really, because it almost looked like Akaba was enjoying himself.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to her and she was astounded that it had only struck her then. God, am I slow or what?
-
Koutarou, she said his name sweetly, sidling up to him as they walked home after practice.
He glanced down at her, hands pausing in their combing of his mane, and wondered what it was that she was up to this time.
Koutarou-kun, she repeated, batting her lashes flirtatiously, tell me something.
Um, he said, yeah? He felt sweaty all of a sudden.
Why do you not like Akaba? Her tone was innocent, and she looked up at him with big, inquisitive eyes.
What, he sputtered, why are you asking me that suddenly?
A knowing expression crossed her face and then she was nodding. Okay, so is there someone you like?
What, he sputtered again, why are you asking me that suddenly? (Koutarou, as we can see, is very limited in his reactions to things).
Because, she said, careful to maintain her delicate aura, it seems to me like you’re only asking me out because the person you like won’t say yes to you. She blinked tearfully up at him, am I right?
N-no, he stammered, taking a step back, I-I only like y-you, Julie.
She sniffed, and he took another step back. Don’t lie to me, Koutarou. She sniffed again.
Koutarou had effectively backed into a corner, and had no means to escape. The last time he’d seen a crying Julie, there’d been hell to pay and he had no intention of sticking around while she played her mind games.
A glint off the sunglasses on her head was all the warning he had before Julie pounced.
-
Now tell me, she stated calmly.
Well of course she was calm! She wasn’t the one who had his comb against his throat! He didn’t even know it could be wielded as a weapon (which was not smart of him, because he’d waved it around in a threatening fashion plenty of times)!
He looked down at her, wary of any sudden movement.
Tell me, Koutarou, the comb was pressed harder against his throat, do you like Akaba?
His eyes threatened to fall out at her accusation. Like Akaba? Him? Where did she get such an idea? He laughed nervously, because Julie was very good at sensing lies.
She looked like she was about to sock him a hard one, and he shut his eyes, bracing himself for some pain, but it never came. When he dared to open his eyes, he saw her just looking at him.
J-Julie? He dared to voice out.
Poor Koutarou, she said, finally relieving his neck of his comb’s threatening presence. If you don’t tell him, he won’t know.
Oh, he said darkly, he knows.
-
And Akaba surely did, with the way he constantly baited Koutarou. Always staying behind so late after practice alone… watching videos in the library’s AV room alone… going up to the roof for lunch alone… what the hell was he trying to do? Drive him insane or something?
Koutarou was sick of being miserable. His dick was going to fall off at this rate, and he was sick of wanking off every night to that expressionless face. He wanted the real thing, and he had no idea how to go about getting it.
Julie, therefore, was the answer to his prayers.
-
Now as we both know, Akaba’s first love is music. His second love is Amefuto. And his third love is… she pointed at him, we’re aiming to get you that spot!
What? He gaped, I’m going to be third?
Hey, we’re setting realistic expectations here! She chided, and he backed down. We know what he likes, so we can put that knowledge to good use!
How, he said glumly, you suggesting I woo him by playing music while kicking footballs on the field?
It was Julie’s turn to gape. Woo him? What kind of era are you living in? she demanded, those kind of things don’t happen anymore!
Right, he deferred. So what have you got in mind then?
Not much, she admitted sheepishly, but you’re one of the few people in school that he talks to right? So that’s got to account for something…
Right, he said, just like how long it took him to notice me, it’s going to take just as long for him to notice my feelings.
Koutarou! Julie looked aghast at his choice of words, please be a bit more professional about this!
He grunted his acknowledgement, not really caring either way.
What we have to do, she concluded, is to make him interested in you.
Koutarou resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He already knew that!
-
The problem was, Akaba had already noticed him. When you’ve noticed someone, you form an impression of that person that’s very hard to crack, and that’s where the problem lay. Akaba probably already had him labelled as ‘teammate’ or ‘kicker’ or even ‘stalker’ if he had any idea of the tendencies Koutarou had sometimes. How the hell was he expected to change whatever Akaba thought of him?
The answer was simple: make Akaba think of him more.
-
Now Akaba had no idea what Julie and Koutarou were up to, but he was sure that he was somehow involved in whatever scheme they’d concocted. Koutarou was in his face every other moment and while he’d initially suspected a plot to steal his guitar (because really, it was like the whole world was intent on separating them) - that worry was put to rest since Koutarou never showed any interest (besides spitting) in it.
He found it rather unsettling though, that somehow, without his knowledge, he’d let Koutarou intrude into his personal space, because now when Koutarou came in to check up on him in the library, he was no longer surprised. On the contrary, he anticipated the interruption and was so attuned to it that he’d keep a chair (the one Koutarou always sat on) free for him to use when he came.
He was also becoming accustomed to Koutarou’s increasingly physical attacks. Absently, he’d thought it was good practice for his reflexes but quickly changed his mind when the attacks became alarmingly frequent to the point where before his back slammed into whatever solid surface was nearest, he’d already feel his body aching from the impact.
He could come up with no logical reasoning that would explain Koutarou’s sudden violent behaviour towards himself, but accepted that somehow he deserved it (because Akaba is masochistic like that).
Maybe Koutarou was just upset that Akaba got to sit on the bench all day and jam on his guitar. On second thought, maybe not.
-
Is it working? Julie asked excitedly.
No, his reply was sour, as was his expression. He averted his eyes and excused himself to the gents. Bloody Akaba had set his blood boiling again.
And all he’d done was say Fuuuuu~ the way he always did, and blow his fringe a little.
I’m really going crazy, Koutarou thought, as he unzipped his pants. Koutarou Jr. bobbed its head in agreement.
-
Akaba finally had an idea of what was going on when Koutarou shoved him up against some lockers and he’d felt something hard poking into his thigh. His first thought was, that isn’t his comb, and his second was, wow.
He would have formed several more opinions on his current predicament had his thoughts not been derailed by Koutarou’s lips devouring his own.
-
When they pulled apart for air (or rather, when Koutarou released him), both of them were panting hard, and Akaba was the one with the blush on his face.
Oh, Koutarou had observed as he gasped for air, so you can show some expression other than blank.
Akaba had blinked, still breathless, still stunned. His face hurt where his sunglasses had been pressed into his skin and he was more than sure that he looked a mess. A glance at Koutarou revealed that the other boy was just as disheveled as he was (if not more, because Koutarou really did have a lot more hair on his head). Akaba opened his mouth to verbalise just what exactly he thought about being treated like this when Koutarou pressed up against him again and whispered, their lips mere inches apart. You're so not smart, Akaba. Not smart at all.
And he kissed him again, as hungrily as he did before, and Akaba let him because he had no reason not to.
-
How long? Akaba asked, fiddling with his guitar strap as they walked (to Akaba’s) home.
Huh, Koutarou fingered his comb.
How long have you…? He let the question hang, not wanting to embarrass the other (and himself).
Koutarou paused to think. Then he made a face. From the very start I guess.
Really, Akaba blinked, surprised. He stopped walking.
Yep, Koutarou nodded his affirmation. You were crawling on some floor when I first saw you.
Akaba fought down the blush that threatened to crawl up his face. Oh, so Koutarou had been that guy… how embarrassing.
You’re not embarrassed are you? Koutarou asked, squinting at him in the dark. I mean, you were the one who kept teasing me anyway, so surely you’re not -
Akaba’s fingers were doing some crazy twitching there.
Anyway, I’ve waited a long time to say this, Koutarou shoved his hands into his pockets and looked out towards the direction of the setting sun, and tried his best to look as flippant as he could, - I’m glad you came back.
Akaba’s lips twitched the same instant his fingers stopped. Koutarou's profile was highlighted against the conflicting darkness and light. I’m glad I stayed, he responded, and let Koutarou hold his hand.
I also want to say that I’m not going to lay off the spitting just because of this, Koutarou continued, still not looking at Akaba, because you’re still a freak and music has nothing to do with Amefuto. He pulled Akaba closer to him as they walked.
Fuuuuu, Akaba laughed softly, and let himself be pulled closer, we have opposing rhythms after all.
-end-
Fandom: Eyeshield 21
Pairing: Kou/Aka
Rating: PG 13 for naughty words and the implied
Summary: Where Koutarou tries his best to get Akaba to realise his existence. And where Koutarou dearly regrets it when he succeeds.
If anyone asked Koutarou why he hated Akaba, he would immediately say, because he’s a freak.
If anyone asked Koutarou why he still hung out with Akaba, he would scream shut up! And wave his comb threateningly in that person’s face.
If it was Julie that asked Koutarou why he was still treating Akaba badly, he would say, because that guy is too damn annoying with all his talk about music and his obnoxious guitar playing.
Personally, Julie thought that Koutarou was still sour about the attention Akaba was still getting. Without the starters, he was viewed even more as their saviour, and some of the first years had taken to calling him Akaba-sama (following his fanclub’s nickname for him), much to Koutarou’s disgust.
Akaba-sama, she had heard him say sarcastically once, please can you sign me an autograph?
Non-plussed, Akaba had easily responded with a, no need with the honorifics, you’re entitled to a signature anytime, Koutarou.
And Julie had giggled at the resulting crash that was Koutarou launching himself at Akaba.
-
Why did you come back? Was the question that was always at the tip of his tongue. But he’d never asked, because he never dared, and he dreaded the answer that would come. The answer he wanted was the one he was least likely to get, and he wasn’t (that much of) an idiot to set himself up for a heartbreak.
Rather, he had taken to asking Julie to go out with him.
She would always reject him because her female intuition told her that there was someone else he liked, and that someone else probably had no clue. So she took it upon herself to ask Akaba, because he was the only other person Koutarou seemed to take to well.
Akaba, she motioned for him to follow her out of the clubhouse one day.
Is there something you need? He asked as he followed her to a distance away.
I just wanted to ask, she whispered, eyes glancing furtively around, if you have any idea of who it is that Koutarou likes.
Akaba raised both eyebrows at the question. Pardon?
Julie pouted, Mou, don’t tell me he didn’t tell you anything either! That boy… she puffed out her cheeks, placed her hands on her hips and was just about to launch into a tirade about Koutarou’s fallings when said person appeared, not looking too happy at finding the both of them alone together.
Akaba! He roared, I thought I told you that Julie’s off-limits!
Akaba smiled faintly at her, and Julie felt guilty for dragging him into it - but not really, because it almost looked like Akaba was enjoying himself.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to her and she was astounded that it had only struck her then. God, am I slow or what?
-
Koutarou, she said his name sweetly, sidling up to him as they walked home after practice.
He glanced down at her, hands pausing in their combing of his mane, and wondered what it was that she was up to this time.
Koutarou-kun, she repeated, batting her lashes flirtatiously, tell me something.
Um, he said, yeah? He felt sweaty all of a sudden.
Why do you not like Akaba? Her tone was innocent, and she looked up at him with big, inquisitive eyes.
What, he sputtered, why are you asking me that suddenly?
A knowing expression crossed her face and then she was nodding. Okay, so is there someone you like?
What, he sputtered again, why are you asking me that suddenly? (Koutarou, as we can see, is very limited in his reactions to things).
Because, she said, careful to maintain her delicate aura, it seems to me like you’re only asking me out because the person you like won’t say yes to you. She blinked tearfully up at him, am I right?
N-no, he stammered, taking a step back, I-I only like y-you, Julie.
She sniffed, and he took another step back. Don’t lie to me, Koutarou. She sniffed again.
Koutarou had effectively backed into a corner, and had no means to escape. The last time he’d seen a crying Julie, there’d been hell to pay and he had no intention of sticking around while she played her mind games.
A glint off the sunglasses on her head was all the warning he had before Julie pounced.
-
Now tell me, she stated calmly.
Well of course she was calm! She wasn’t the one who had his comb against his throat! He didn’t even know it could be wielded as a weapon (which was not smart of him, because he’d waved it around in a threatening fashion plenty of times)!
He looked down at her, wary of any sudden movement.
Tell me, Koutarou, the comb was pressed harder against his throat, do you like Akaba?
His eyes threatened to fall out at her accusation. Like Akaba? Him? Where did she get such an idea? He laughed nervously, because Julie was very good at sensing lies.
She looked like she was about to sock him a hard one, and he shut his eyes, bracing himself for some pain, but it never came. When he dared to open his eyes, he saw her just looking at him.
J-Julie? He dared to voice out.
Poor Koutarou, she said, finally relieving his neck of his comb’s threatening presence. If you don’t tell him, he won’t know.
Oh, he said darkly, he knows.
-
And Akaba surely did, with the way he constantly baited Koutarou. Always staying behind so late after practice alone… watching videos in the library’s AV room alone… going up to the roof for lunch alone… what the hell was he trying to do? Drive him insane or something?
Koutarou was sick of being miserable. His dick was going to fall off at this rate, and he was sick of wanking off every night to that expressionless face. He wanted the real thing, and he had no idea how to go about getting it.
Julie, therefore, was the answer to his prayers.
-
Now as we both know, Akaba’s first love is music. His second love is Amefuto. And his third love is… she pointed at him, we’re aiming to get you that spot!
What? He gaped, I’m going to be third?
Hey, we’re setting realistic expectations here! She chided, and he backed down. We know what he likes, so we can put that knowledge to good use!
How, he said glumly, you suggesting I woo him by playing music while kicking footballs on the field?
It was Julie’s turn to gape. Woo him? What kind of era are you living in? she demanded, those kind of things don’t happen anymore!
Right, he deferred. So what have you got in mind then?
Not much, she admitted sheepishly, but you’re one of the few people in school that he talks to right? So that’s got to account for something…
Right, he said, just like how long it took him to notice me, it’s going to take just as long for him to notice my feelings.
Koutarou! Julie looked aghast at his choice of words, please be a bit more professional about this!
He grunted his acknowledgement, not really caring either way.
What we have to do, she concluded, is to make him interested in you.
Koutarou resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He already knew that!
-
The problem was, Akaba had already noticed him. When you’ve noticed someone, you form an impression of that person that’s very hard to crack, and that’s where the problem lay. Akaba probably already had him labelled as ‘teammate’ or ‘kicker’ or even ‘stalker’ if he had any idea of the tendencies Koutarou had sometimes. How the hell was he expected to change whatever Akaba thought of him?
The answer was simple: make Akaba think of him more.
-
Now Akaba had no idea what Julie and Koutarou were up to, but he was sure that he was somehow involved in whatever scheme they’d concocted. Koutarou was in his face every other moment and while he’d initially suspected a plot to steal his guitar (because really, it was like the whole world was intent on separating them) - that worry was put to rest since Koutarou never showed any interest (besides spitting) in it.
He found it rather unsettling though, that somehow, without his knowledge, he’d let Koutarou intrude into his personal space, because now when Koutarou came in to check up on him in the library, he was no longer surprised. On the contrary, he anticipated the interruption and was so attuned to it that he’d keep a chair (the one Koutarou always sat on) free for him to use when he came.
He was also becoming accustomed to Koutarou’s increasingly physical attacks. Absently, he’d thought it was good practice for his reflexes but quickly changed his mind when the attacks became alarmingly frequent to the point where before his back slammed into whatever solid surface was nearest, he’d already feel his body aching from the impact.
He could come up with no logical reasoning that would explain Koutarou’s sudden violent behaviour towards himself, but accepted that somehow he deserved it (because Akaba is masochistic like that).
Maybe Koutarou was just upset that Akaba got to sit on the bench all day and jam on his guitar. On second thought, maybe not.
-
Is it working? Julie asked excitedly.
No, his reply was sour, as was his expression. He averted his eyes and excused himself to the gents. Bloody Akaba had set his blood boiling again.
And all he’d done was say Fuuuuu~ the way he always did, and blow his fringe a little.
I’m really going crazy, Koutarou thought, as he unzipped his pants. Koutarou Jr. bobbed its head in agreement.
-
Akaba finally had an idea of what was going on when Koutarou shoved him up against some lockers and he’d felt something hard poking into his thigh. His first thought was, that isn’t his comb, and his second was, wow.
He would have formed several more opinions on his current predicament had his thoughts not been derailed by Koutarou’s lips devouring his own.
-
When they pulled apart for air (or rather, when Koutarou released him), both of them were panting hard, and Akaba was the one with the blush on his face.
Oh, Koutarou had observed as he gasped for air, so you can show some expression other than blank.
Akaba had blinked, still breathless, still stunned. His face hurt where his sunglasses had been pressed into his skin and he was more than sure that he looked a mess. A glance at Koutarou revealed that the other boy was just as disheveled as he was (if not more, because Koutarou really did have a lot more hair on his head). Akaba opened his mouth to verbalise just what exactly he thought about being treated like this when Koutarou pressed up against him again and whispered, their lips mere inches apart. You're so not smart, Akaba. Not smart at all.
And he kissed him again, as hungrily as he did before, and Akaba let him because he had no reason not to.
-
How long? Akaba asked, fiddling with his guitar strap as they walked (to Akaba’s) home.
Huh, Koutarou fingered his comb.
How long have you…? He let the question hang, not wanting to embarrass the other (and himself).
Koutarou paused to think. Then he made a face. From the very start I guess.
Really, Akaba blinked, surprised. He stopped walking.
Yep, Koutarou nodded his affirmation. You were crawling on some floor when I first saw you.
Akaba fought down the blush that threatened to crawl up his face. Oh, so Koutarou had been that guy… how embarrassing.
You’re not embarrassed are you? Koutarou asked, squinting at him in the dark. I mean, you were the one who kept teasing me anyway, so surely you’re not -
Akaba’s fingers were doing some crazy twitching there.
Anyway, I’ve waited a long time to say this, Koutarou shoved his hands into his pockets and looked out towards the direction of the setting sun, and tried his best to look as flippant as he could, - I’m glad you came back.
Akaba’s lips twitched the same instant his fingers stopped. Koutarou's profile was highlighted against the conflicting darkness and light. I’m glad I stayed, he responded, and let Koutarou hold his hand.
I also want to say that I’m not going to lay off the spitting just because of this, Koutarou continued, still not looking at Akaba, because you’re still a freak and music has nothing to do with Amefuto. He pulled Akaba closer to him as they walked.
Fuuuuu, Akaba laughed softly, and let himself be pulled closer, we have opposing rhythms after all.
-end-