A/N: I know I'm about two years late to the Eyeshield party, sorry. Thought I'd post this anyway. :) Wrote this pretty quickly for fun (and to gratify my fixation with Juumonji's abs). Just a little UST~

Warnings: Spoilers for results of the fall tournament and beyond, unabashed ab-admiring, a tiny bit of imagined sexiness but nothing very descriptive.

Don't own Eyeshield, though if I had the money I'd pay to completely redo the anime. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy! :)

Sena, why are you so jumpy?

Juumonji made Sena nervous.

That is, Juumonji used to make Sena nervous, but then he didn't, but now he did. Er, wait, that didn't—what I meant was—um...

Maybe I should start at the beginning. Five years ago, when Sena first met Juumonji, Kuroki, and Toganou (not yet dubbed brothers by Hiruma), he felt nervous around the trio because he knew, somewhere deep inside, that they were his new "friends." Whenever Juumonji would twitch, Sena was already poised to run. It was a sad constant, but so far, it was the only way of life either of them knew.

It looked like high school was going to be a depressing, anxiety-inducing replay of middle school when they'd all entered Deimon together—not even Sena's masquerading as the football team's ace seemed to lessen his jumpiness around the Bros.

Sena had resigned himself to his personal diagnosis of a selective anxiety disorder, when... Juumonji, Kuroki, and Toganou joined the team. Gradually, for reasons Sena didn't quite understand at the time, Juumonji became especially dedicated to the team. He encouraged the other "brothers" to spend more time at practice, and less time lazing around (or harassing Sena, as the case may be). By the end of the Death March, Sena did understand Juumonji—they could hold a fine conversation together, and at last Sena was blessedly not-nervous around Juumonji.

The sweet absence of delinquent-focused anxiety lasted Sena throughout the next two years or so, through their victory in the Kantou Tournament and at the Christmas Bowl, through hours and hours of practices and post-game celebrations, through Juumonji's brief flu scare and Sena's single, quiet breakdown under the pressures of being team captain, through their team's second consecutive championship and the repeal of the school policy that third years could not participate in extracurriculars—through it all, Sena was finally at ease around Juumonji. They smiled together, laughed when they felt like it, and were maybe, kind of... friends. (Actual friends, this time.)

... Too bad this summer came round. Ah, well, it was nice while it lasted, right, Sena?

Around the end of that second year of high school, Sena started noticing... things. Like the way Juumonji's hands were warm that one time he helped bandage Sena's shoulder. Or the way the muscles of Juumonji's chest were just visible because of the rebellious way he left his collar open.

(He definitely, definitely tried not to notice the way Juumonji's eyes looked when their gazes met, when Sena knew that Juumonji knew where he'd been looking.)

What made Sena more nervous than anything, though, was... ah... oh god. Sometimes he couldn't believe himself.

Juumonji's abs.

It scared him a little, how they made him feel. He'd never wanted to... Er. He'd never wanted to touch something so much. Sena wanted to run his hands over them, to feel both that smoothness and firmness beneath his fingers. They were just... very nice, from what Sena had seen of them, defined but not monstrously so, shifting when Juumonji shrugged out of his safety gear, stretching taut when Juumonji popped his back after a game. Sena wondered what it would be like... to run his thumbs along the edges of the muscles, maybe see them jump in response... What would it be like, to taste them—?

And it was that kind of thought that made Sena nervous. He was going insane! Maybe people thought about... things... like that sometimes, but this was happening more and more! Every time he was around Juumonji, practically, he would get jumpy and distracted and—nervous! Again!

It was probably because of this anxiety that, one summer day when Sena had gone to the weight room to keep in shape for the fall season, he dropped a handweight on his foot. Also because Juumonji had sauntered in and started doing crunches. Shirtless.

Sena had tried to ignore him and stay calm, really. Eventually, though, he started to note the way Juumonji's muscles strained when he moved to recline, and the way they'd bunch as he curled upward. They were already slick with sweat, rippling while the lineman worked through another set. It would be so easy, to put Sena's palm flat on that sheen and feel the movement under his skin...

"Eeeyaaaaaaaaaaouch!" Sena snapped out of his thoughts when the weight slid out of his hand and, of course, landed right on his toes. "Noooooo!"

"Ah, Sena!" Juumonji sat up immediately when he heard Sena's cry. When he saw the weight lying by his friend's foot and the tears pricking at Sena's eyes from the pain, he started to rise. "Here, let me—"

"It's okay!" Sena yelped. "I-I-I'll take care of it!" he called, scrambling to get his things and, with a speed available to only the best of runningbacks, hightailed it out of the weight room.

"Huh...?" Juumonji stared at the open door, still swinging from the force of Sena's speed as he had whipped by it.

Then, he blinked, and tried to tell himself to stop thinking about Sena's ass.