the notebook theory (tsukishima kei x reader)
masterlist | ao3
Pairing:Â Tsukishima Kei x Reader
Summary: Kei has a cynical and jaded outlook on love. When his friend Tadashi figures out that Kei has feelings for you, Kei isnât sure how to react. After all, love is not something he does but rather, something that happens to him.
"Thereâs a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that canât be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory.
He thinks that might be whatâs happening to him. A molecular change, imperceivable to someone not looking at him under a microscope. Itâs like his DNA is being rewritten and stitched together with bright pink yarn. He feels himself steadily come apart and come together. Itâs uncomfortable, like trying to dream when he has a fever. Kei is nearly certain that youâre the reason."
Content Warnings:Â fem!reader (gender neutral pronouns), no real manga spoilers, slow burn, one-sided pining, angst, mentions of divorce and broken homes, toxic relationship (kei's parents), smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pinching, mentions of mark making, overstimulation (m!receiving), multiple orgasms, hair-pulling
Word Count:Â 24.8k
A/N:Â i know i spent forever working on this but it's finally done and while i have a lot of thoughts about it, idk rly what to say. anyway, here's my first attempt at a tsukishima long fic. also i already know that im not beating the tsukkiyama allegations, okay? i tried and failed to beat them okay i just think there is no way to put them in a situation without it being a little homoerotic bc.. they r them okay? anyway, i hope u enjoy and would love to hear ur thoughts <3
The morning comes without warning. Kei thinks heâs read that somewhere, though heâs just sure just where he saw it. He also thinks that whoever said that is right. Morning is always a harsh assault and never as gentle as people describe it to be.Â
Keiâs room, the one he rents at university, faces toward the east. In the mornings, when the sun peeks over the horizon, it shines directly into his room and onto his bed before creeping across the light wood floors. His blinds, as useful as they are, always let some through the cracks and the light cuts the ground like butter to a knife. Kei doesnât think it feels half as romantic as it sounds.Â
The light works better than his alarm. No matter how set he is on sleeping in, he never fails to wake up as soon as those slats of light make their way across his bedspread. It wakes him like fever and heâs never quite as comfortable as he felt falling asleep. This morning is no different.Â
He rises like he always has, running a hand over his blonde hair and dragging it down his face after sitting up. Then, he stands once in an attempt to gather his bearings before sitting right back down on the edge of the bed. He fights the lingering remnants of sleep, feeling the ray of sunlight beat down on his back. Then, he reaches towards his glasses on the nightstand and slides them up the bridge of his long nose before standing up again once and for all.Â
Yamaguchi lives in the other room. His best friend since high school, perhaps his only real friend. Theyâd miraculously attended the same college and decided to room together, though his other friends from his youth arenât too far. The arrangement managed to make it all the way until their fourth and final year. Living with each other has become par for the course.Â
Tadashi wakes up later than Kei does on most days, except for Tuesdays and Thursdays. On those days, he has an 8 am and is usually in the kitchen before Kei has even stood up for the first time. Today is a Wednesday, so Yamaguchi is asleep in his room. The morning light doesnât wake him the same way it does Kei. His room faces west, so it isnât until the mid-afternoon, when Tadashi is chased from his room by the afternoon rays and heat, that he notices the sun on its blinding conquest across the sky.Â
Keiâs room is clean and neat. Thereâs no clutter, no collection of items that donât have a proper place. Everything is itemized and stored exactly where he intends for them to be. His floor is void of stray clothes, of socks heâd discarded the night before, his nightstand is bare and his desk is surprisingly empty save for one notebook sitting in its center. Itâs a room that he could leave at any time, despite living here for nearly two years. If Kei chose to do so, he could pack his things and be gone in a day.Â
Yamaguchiâs room is different. Itâs lived in and well worn. Thereâs clutter on the floor, socks and pants heâd taken and tossed away to be dealt with later. Certain things donât have a place and end up living on semi-crowded surfaces filled with things he likes to put down as quickly as heâd picked them up. Kei envies that way of living. A non-temporary way. He envies the rug in Yamaguchiâs room and the way he fills the space with himself. Kei thinks that even after theyâre long gone, future tenants would still be able to feel Tadashiâs presence.Â
To say that Kei is cynical would be accurate. He tends to lean more towards paranoia in his own strange way. He keeps things in order to quell the anxiety in it. Things stay where they are meant to be. As a result, heâs earned himself somewhat of an uptight attitude that makes Kei feel more awkward than relaxed even when heâs in his own spaces. Not that he minds it.Â
Tadashiâs dish from last night is sitting next to the sink. Kei moves around it as he fixes a tea, making an effort not to drag his feet across the floor because he hates the scuffing sound. Every now and then, the glass of his mug will clink against the cheap kitchen tile and Kei will cringe in some paranoid worry that it will wake his friend.Â
As he gathers his things to leave the quiet apartment, Kei wonders where his cynicism comes from. Heâs sure he could pinpoint it if he tried. His parents divorce, his previous experiences with dating that have left him jaded, the holes that wore even in his most sturdy of sweaters. Inconsequential nothings that piled up until Kei had developed an undeniably cautious outlook on the world. To him, all of these things are the same. Like the morning, theyâre intrusive and unsightly, but none is less important than the other.Â
Kei does have things he likes. Art, for one. He likes paintings, sculptures, little pieces of history, and all of the things people make with their hands that he could never do. Kei is hopeless at crafts. His fingers are lithe and long, but theyâre clumsy and hard to control. Despite his need for order, Kei has trouble controlling his urges. The subtle twitches of his fingers always mess up whatever it is heâs trying to craft.Â
He likes writing best of all, specifically curatorial writing. Itâs easy for him to pick which pieces belong together and how to organize them in a space, it suits his talent for compartmentalizing. Kei gets to tell a story that way, be it historical or artistic, sometimes both. The essays that his classmates find tedious, he finds relaxing despite the stress. For him, writing about art and history is a pleasure much like sipping tea that is the perfect temperature, unintrusive and natural.Â
By the time he arrives at the library, itâs nearly 9 am. He works better here, in the quiet section at a table hidden by three tall shelves of books. Itâs almost never occupied and there are hardly ever people seated in the immediate area. Kei doesnât go out of his way to avoid others, but he finds that if he doesnât approach people, they often wonât approach him. He prefers things this way, it makes the good and bad people easier to weed out.Â
From this spot in the library, Kei can see where you usually set up shop for the day. You arrive after him by about 45 minutes and he convinces himself that it is always coincidental.Â
Strictly speaking, youâre Tadashiâs friend, not his. Youâve known each other for a little under a year and have been by the apartment a few times, but yours and his conversations are limited entirely to pleasantries. How are you? What are you working on? Weâre graduating soon, huh? Casual conversation that Kei can weasel his way out of at any time. Like his room, itâs impermanent.Â
Kei has had the idea that nothing stays stuck in his head since middle school. The house he lived in when his parents were together, weekdays with his mother and weekends with his father, graduating seniors, the apartment he lives in now. To Kei, all of it is so temporary that he finds it difficult to get attached to it, not that heâs devoid of emotion. He quite loves the little things he has, but his grip on them is loose and half-hearted. Whatever leaves, Kei thinks is meant to leave, so he makes no effort to hold on.Â
Itâs probably unfair to think of you that way, but Kei canât really help it. He canât change what he is. Besides, itâs not as if he doesnât have a reason to think so. Heâs often approached by people for his looks, people who want to get close because they think heâs tall and handsome, people who collect others like trophies. Heâs not heartless, so heâs been hurt more than a few times. Kei thinks he owes it to himself to be cautious, not that youâve done anything to earn that type of subtle hostility.Â
âThought you might be here,â someoneâs hand lands on his shoulder.Â
âShit,â he groans, âis it that late already?âÂ
Kei glances down at the watch on his wrist, reading the time as just past 10:45 am. Heâs been here for an hour and 45 minutes and hasnât gotten anything done. Tadashi pulls the chair next to him out and sits down, resting his chin on his hand.Â
âSpacing out?âÂ
âA little,â Kei responds, tapping his pen against the table and turning back toward his book.Â
âGot something due?âÂ
âYeah, on Friday,â he exhales. âHavenât started it yet though. You?âÂ
âNah,â Tadashi smiles. âIâm just chasing you around.âÂ
âYouâre like a girl with a crush.âÂ
Tadashi shrugs and lets out a good natured laugh. Itâs a little too loud for this part of the library, but Kei lets it slide, smiling with his friend.Â
Tadashi is the opposite of him, he thinks. He smiles often and says exactly whatâs on his mind when it crosses it, even if it's a little mean. Tadashi used to be a follower, but in his final year of high school and university years, grew into someone befitting of his somewhat sunny and sarcastic personality. Thoughts and words come easily to him and he has no trouble vocalizing his joy or his disappointment.Â
Yamaguchi has freckles covering the entirety of his body. Kei knows this because heâs seen far more of Tadashi than he thinks he should have. His skin is tawny and warm like him. Kei finds himself looking at the ones on his hands as Yamaguchi begins to write in his notebook. Kei canât read his handwriting because itâs terrible and he doesnât much feel like working on his own project, so he watches his friendâs hand mark the page. Then, his gaze slinks across the library to you.Â
Youâve got your head down and look like youâre falling asleep despite it only being 11 in the morning. Your hand moves lazily across your computer keypad. By the time Kei realizes that youâve spotted him staring, itâs too late to look away. His gaze was too intentional, so he smiles at you instead, nodding his head a little.Â
You smile and wave, standing from where you sit and collecting your things. They fill up your arms because you donât bother to put them in your bag, making your way clumsily across the room and setting your stuff down across from him.Â
âHi, Tsukishima,â you smile. âHi, Tadashi.âÂ
You use his friendâs given name and Kei feels a pang of jealousy hit his chest.Â
âHow long have you been here? I didnât see you,â you ask, settling into the seat across from Kei.Â
âI just got here,â Tadashi smiles, looking up from his notes. âHeâs been here for a while though.âÂ
Tadashi motions towards him.Â
âAw, why didnât you say hi?âÂ
âYou seemed busy,â Kei lies.Â
You pout, filling your mouth with air. âNext time just come say hi, âkay?âÂ
âSure,â Kei nods.Â
Tadashi tosses him a sideways glance and Kei shrugs it off. Heâs not interested in being teased this morning, though when is he ever.Â
Kei doesnât like the way you make him feel. When youâre around, he becomes prickly. It sets Kei on edge in a way that he hates. His world, previously so rigid and organized, quickly begins to feel cluttered and structureless.Â
You make his heart pound. You make it hammer against his chest so hard that he can feel it in his ears and behind his eyes. It goes all the way down to his already-hard-to-control fingertips and the tops of his thighs. A previously pastel colored world goes vibrantly candy-colored like itâs been plunged in saturating liquid. He nevers knows how to hold himself, never knows how to act natural. What does it mean to act natural, anyway? How should he rest his hands on the desk? Would it be weird to lace them together? Does he look as stiff as he feels? Itâs entirely possible that he is suffering a massive heart attack.Â
You whisper across the table to Tadashi, leaning forward and laughing at something heâs written in his notebook. You can read his handwriting, something Kei is equally jealous about as he is angry. Kei just watches your conversation, unable to really listen into it on account of the stroke that he thinks heâs having.Â
The three of you stay like this for a while, earning the occasional irritated whisper or dirty look from some of the more studious people in the library. Kei pretends to ignore them, remaining quiet throughout the duration of your study session with Tadashi. His quiet corner is invaded and painted bright pink with your presence and he doesnât know whether to feel giddy or irrationally angry. Maybe itâs both.Â
âCrap, is that the time?â Tadashi exclaims, hunching over himself when someone nearby shushes him. âIâve got class across campus in 10 minutes.âÂ
He hurriedly collects his things. Tadashi does it so fast, in fact, that Kei hardly has time to beg him not to leave him alone with you. So he just watches as Tadashi throws his things clumsily into his bag and tosses it over his shoulder.Â
âBye, ___,â he says in a rushed whisper. âIâll see you at home, Kei!âÂ
âSure,â is all that Kei can muster. His voice cracks when he says it and he immediately avoids looking at you and stares at nothing in particular in his textbook.Â
Itâs quiet for a while. Kei pretends to busy himself by glancing between his textbook and his computer and you sit with your head bowed as you take notes on a lecture youâre listening to through the single earbud in your right ear. Then, you tap the end of your pen lightly on Keiâs notebook to get his attention.Â
Itâs only been about 10 minutes since Tadashi left, but the library now feels like an entirely different place. His heart pounds as he struggles to keep a straight face.Â
When he looks up, youâre looking at him with a tilted head. Your expression is soft and unintrusive, friendly but a bit guarded. You smile softly at him.Â
âYou donât like me very much, do you?â You ask gently. It doesnât sound accusatory, but rather a casual statement tinged with friendliness.Â
âHuh?â Blood rushes into his ears.Â
âI just kinda get the impression that youâre uncomfortable around me,â you say. âAm I wrong?âÂ
âUh, no- itâs not that I donât like you.âÂ
Heâs quick to correct you and he feels heat rush to his cheeks.Â
âThen what?â you question lightly. Thereâs no ulterior motive behind your smile, Kei can tell, but your openness makes him uneasy.Â
âI dunno,â he calms himself a little. âI donât really know how to act around you, I guess.âÂ
You laugh, leaning back into your chair. âIs that all?âÂ
âWell, yeahâŚâ he feels awkward and his palms are sweaty. He drops them below the table to wipe them. âYouâre Tadashiâs friend and Iâm pretty different from him so I justâŚâ He trails off, shrugging his shoulders.
âI was worried you hated me,â you smile, chuckling to yourself.Â
âThatâs definitely not it,â he loosens a little, smiling lightly despite the thudding of his heart. It slows down steadily.Â
âIâm your friend too, ya know?âÂ
âThat so?âÂ
âWell, yeah,â you shrug and lean all the way back, crossing your arms. âI just kinda figured that we would be.âÂ
âFriends?â His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. His word placement is awkward.Â
âDuh,â you laugh a little. âYou know, you donât have to speak formally with me.âÂ
âThatâs just the way I am,â he huffs at being read.Â
âWell, you can drop them with me. I donât mind.âÂ
âTall order,â he snorts.Â
You tilt your head to the side. âDid you just make a joke?âÂ
âUh, yeahâŚâÂ
âFunny,â you smile. âWhat are you studying?âÂ
âItâs not really studyingâŚâ he says, glancing down at the near empty document. âIâm supposed to be writing an essay I have due on Friday. Not going well.âÂ
He looks up at you through his lashes. Youâre leaning forward across the table now, your chin angled upward as you try and peek at whatâs on his screen. He turns it so that you can see better.Â
âBaroque art?â You read aloud. âOh yeah, Tadashi mentioned that youâre an art history major. Do you draw too?âÂ
âNo,â he scoffs. âIâm hopeless at it, but I like art. Itâs nice to look at.âÂ
âHuh, you look like youâd be good at drawing,â you say.Â
âWhatâs that mean?âÂ
âI dunno, like a manga author or something,â you shrug. âYouâve got nice hands too. Like an artist.âÂ
âManga?â He laughs a little, trying to play off the color he feels rushing to his face from the compliment.Â
âYeah, you look like the manga type.âÂ
âIs it the glasses?â He raises an eyebrow.Â
âMaybe,â you laugh.Â
Kei looks down at his hands. Theyâre big, like the rest of him, and his knuckles are thin. Heâs hyper-aware of them now that youâve complimented them. He studies them briefly, following the barely visible veins up the back of them, following the line of his fingers to his nails. Theyâre trimmed and somewhat well kept, save for the spots that he tends to bite at when he lays in bed at night. His hands look nothing like Tadashiâs. Tadashiâs fingers are thick and his nails are short on account of him biting them. Kei wonders if you prefer them to his.Â
â
Thereâs a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. Itâs only a bit bigger than his fistâa little thing, reallyâand itâs completely blank. Keiâs never written anything down in it, nothing has ever really been worth sullying the thing. Itâs got brown fabric binding and a semi-thick cover. Itâs malleable, but not so flimsy that heâd need a desk to write in it.Â
Keiâs not too sure why he bought it in the first place. Maybe he liked the size of it, small enough to fit in his pocket, but not so small as to be ridiculous. Itâs practical, much like he is. Heâs considered turning it into a daily planner and putting to-do lists in it, but Kei isnât much of a list guy, itâs Tadashi that likes making lists. Nothing has ever really felt like it suits the book. Heâs considered journaling in it, but his life is one big routine and he doesnât think thereâs anything worth writing about.Â
No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that canât be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory.Â
He thinks that might be whatâs happening to him. A molecular change, imperceivable to someone not looking at him under a microscope. Itâs like his DNA is being rewritten and stitched together with bright pink yarn. He feels himself steadily come apart and come together. Itâs uncomfortable, like trying to dream when he has a fever.Â
Kei is nearly certain that youâre the reason, not that heâs about to admit to anyone else that he likes you. Tadashi managed to weasel it out of him, though he didnât really have to ask. In fact, it was less of an admittance to Kei than it was confirmation of his own feelings. If Tadashi can tell that he likes you, then he must.Â
People seem to know things about Kei before he even knows them himself. At least, thatâs how it seems. Heâs always confronted with his own feelings by other people, not that theyâre really ever wrong, but it seems everyone catches onto what heâs feeling rather quickly. Heâs not too sure why that is, maybe heâs just obvious and hasnât realized it.Â
Come to think of it, when Tadashi had confronted Kei about his feelings for you, heâd been deeply annoying about it. Kei couldnât even try to deny it because Tadashi had come out with his guns blazing, cornering him in the living room and throwing facts about you at him until his face was beet red with embarrassment. Then, with a serious frown on his face, heâd simply stated you like them and that was the end of it. Kei couldnât even deny it. Even he knew that it read plainly in his expression.Â
To be frank, it sucks being told in plain speech how he feels about someone. Whenever that happens, it makes Kei feel like heâll never be able to keep another secret in his life. Sometimes, he wishes that he was able to make the decision to tell someone else on his own, but even Kei knows that that is a little beyond him. Kei can think the feelings just fine, but when it comes to speaking them aloud, he seems to have a padlock around his throat.Â
Tadashi knows this about him and if it werenât for him, Kei would have agonized far longer and far worse over certain situations of emotional turmoil. Most of the time, Tadashi gets it without needing to ask or say anything. Itâs nice to have someone understand him in that way, even if it does mean he canât keep a secret to save his life.Â
Feelings lately make Kei a little angry. Heâs always known that heâs had somewhat of a sour personality. Kei doesnât need to be told that heâs smug to know that he is. Heâs snarky and usually touchy, picky about the people that he hangs out with. Itâs not really a secret that Kei is a hard person to get along with, but lately, he feels like itâs been worse.Â
Maybe itâs because this is new territory to him. As conceited as it sounds, Kei has never liked someone first. Itâs not because he doesnât think anyone is worthy, but rather, because there are very few people he doesnât find grating. Despite how he seems, Kei is incredibly sensitive about things, so naturally, itâs easier to get on his nerves.Â
Heâs dated before, though not for long, and all of his relationships have started the same way. Kei is approached by them, usually on the premise of looks, and he accepts. Heâs not sure why he does. Sometimes itâs because he thinks theyâre pretty, other times itâs because the romantic in him hopes that it will actually work out. It never has.Â
Most of the time, Kei turns out to be different than they expected. Heâs too touchy, too sarcastic, too awkward in his way of trying to love. To Kei, it has always felt like itâs ended just as he was beginning to develop real feelings.Â
If heâs being honest, itâs given him a twisted inferiority complex. Heâs worried that somehow, on a fundamental level, heâs not enough. Sometimes, it even goes so far as for Kei to think that heâs just generally disappointing. He tries not to be. Kei wants to be relied on. He wants to be someone his friends can go to when they need something sturdy.Â
Despite his personality, Kei considers himself sturdy. Well, maybe stubborn is a better word. Kei considers himself stubborn enough to be made sturdy. Heâs just a little awkward. Thatâs all. People seem to mistake that for being unreliable. Itâs a peeve of Keiâs.Â
Tadashi isnât like that. Tadashi is bright and warm, reliable in every sense of the word. Kei actually looks up to him a lot, not that heâd ever say anything like that to his face. Sure, Tadashiâs not perfect, but at least people rely on him. At least Kei relies on him.Â
Tadashi is more easy going than Kei is. He has an easier time going with the flow, which makes him more personable. Kei thinks that Tadashi is the closest thing that heâs had to a better half. In truth, without Tadashi around, Kei isnât exactly sure what would have become of him.Â
Itâs pointless thinking about these sorts of things though. Kei realized a long time ago that thinking about being better wonât automatically make him better. This is just the way he is and Keiâs learned to accept that, whatever it means. Still, none of this changes the fact that he likes you.Â
Kei could mull over thought after thought and he doesnât think it would have any effect on the fact that heâs definitely developed a crush. Heâs positive it will go away. In fact, heâs not even sure if itâs real. Maybe Kei is just jealous of you the same way heâs jealous of Tadashi. Youâre bright and warm like he is. You and Tadashi are cut from the same cloth, so maybe thatâs why the two of you get along so well.Â
In all honesty, Kei wishes he could be a little more like Tadashi for that reason. Maybe if he were more like Tadashi, heâd have the courage to fully accept these new and uncertain feelings for what they are. But he doesnât have that kind of courage, not right now at least. He doesnât have the courage to solidify and lean into his feelings. Kei doesnât want to risk what little comfort and security he has. If the relationship between you both is a blank page, Kei doesnât have anything important to write. What if it ruins the paper? What if when he erases it, it changes the thing on a molecular level for the worse? The notebook theory.Â
âÂ
Despite everything, Kei is rather self-aware. At least in his own head he is. Kei knows that when he pretends he doesnât like you, he really ends up liking you more. He knows that heâs touchy, that heâs awkward, that he comes across more crass than he intends to. Kei is clumsy, not stupid. That doesnât mean that he has to acknowledge it.Â
Youâve been coming around more often since the conversation Kei had with you in the library. Maybe youâre more comfortable now knowing that he doesnât hate you, so youâre happier to join Tadashi in their shared apartment.Â
Kei feels bad about making you think that he hates you. Actually, he feels really bad about it. Like, astronomically bad about it. Embarrassingly enough, it actually keeps him up at night. So he goes out of his way to be a little nicer to you. The only other person heâs ever done that for is Tadashi.Â
He greets you properly when you pass, despite the flare up of a medical condition heâs yet to fully diagnose brought on by your presence. He asks you questions about your studies, partially because he is genuinely curious and partially because he doesnât want you to hate him. He thinks heâd die if you hated him. Keiâs being brave in his own way. Itâs little, but heâs doing it.Â
As a result, the two of you have grown a little closer. Kei has your phone number now, though he rarely has any reason to text you. Typing out a message to you makes him nervous. It makes him red in the face when youâre not even there. Somehow, having your phone number feels vulnerable to him, like he has access to you whenever he wants and you him. It means that if you wanted, you could make him nervous without even being nearby. Thatâs a lot for Kei to think about.Â
Kei sees you in the library sometimes too, but he never takes the initiative to speak to you. You always come up to him first, clumsily gathering your things the way you did the day you and him sorted out your friendship and plopping them down in front of him.Â
Sometimes, you both go several hours without saying anything to each other. Other times, youâll chat away about something while leaning forward on the desk and Kei has to pretend that heâs not wildly nervous at your proximity. Youâre so friendly. So genuinely warm that Kei can physically feel it when you talk. Despite his nerves, Kei would describe you as comfortable. Youâre a comfortable person to him, as alarming as that is.Â
His crush is out of hand. It scares him, not that heâs actively thought about that. What started as him noticing you has quickly ballooned into him being painfully aware of you at all times. He kind of feels bad about it. You donât seem to think that heâs anything more than a friend and it makes Kei feel bad that he thinks of you as anything but that. He doesnât want you to be just a crush to him. Kei wants you to be like Tadashi, someone he can rely on and be comfortable with. He almost feels like heâs reversed whatâs been done to him his whole life, like somehow heâs only become your friend because he wants something more.Â
Truth is though, he doesnât want anything more. Kei wants to stay exactly where he is. He doesnât want his crush to develop any further. He doesnât want to confess, he wants to forget. Even now, sitting on a couch in the library, he wants to imagine he doesnât feel anything at all for you. Â
âHey, are you okay?â You tilt your head at him.Â
âHuh? Me?â He questions. âYeah, Iâm fine.âÂ
âYou seem a little distracted,â you smile. âYouâve been staring at your computer for like⌠10 minutes with this blank look on your face.âÂ
âYouâve been staring at me for 10 minutes?â He raises an eyebrow, trying to play off the embarrassment of being caught like that.Â
âNot staring at you,â you huff, âbut I definitely noticed.âÂ
âHa, creep,â he tilts his head up a little, blowing air out of his nose.Â
âYouâre twisted, you know?âÂ
âWhatever,â he shrugs his shoulders and looks back at his computer screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shake your head and smile before looking down at your work.Â
Tadashi has said the same exact thing to him before. In highschool, after Kei had made a joke about his teammate Hinataâs height, Tadashi had given him a look and snorted that heâs so twisted. Heâs been hearing that sort of thing his entire life.Â
âHey, are you cool if I skip out of here early?â You ask a few moments later.Â
âOh, yeah sure. I donât mind,â he nods, hiding his disappointment. âI didnât realize that we had like⌠set times to be here.âÂ
You laugh lightly. âWell, we donât, but we tend to come and go at the same time, no? I kinda look forward to it.âÂ
Kei envies your honesty. Youâre so honest all of the time. You say what you feel when it pops into your head. He wishes he could be like that, maybe then he would be able to say that he does too. Instead, he just nods and swallows his heart back down. You smile at him again and then gather your things.Â
âYouâll be home on Friday night, right?âÂ
âUhm, yeah? Why?âÂ
âTadashi invited me and a few friends over, did he tell you?âÂ
âI think he mentioned it.â Kei has actually been thinking about it for the last couple days.Â
âGood, Iâll see you, right?âÂ
âYeah, you will.âÂ
âGreat, talk to you later then!â You smile and with that, you walk away.Â
You sounded so certain in that statement. Talk to you later. You said it like it was inevitable. Thinking about that, Kei canât help but watch you go. He even likes looking at the back of you, though he wishes he could see your face too. It feels worse to be walked away from than walked towards.Â
Kei canât tell anymore if what he feels is romance or jealousy. Itâs probably both. Itâs probably some mix of the two that he canât quite sort out. He wishes it werenât that way. Kei gets the feeling that he might be ruined.Â
So he just watched you leave the library. Someone is waiting for you at the top of the stairwell. Kei can tell theyâre a guy and despite the reluctance of his feelings, his stomach drops anyway when you nudge his shoulder with yours and loop your arm around his. Thatâs something you havenât done to Kei before. Touch him. You touch this other person so easily. It makes Kei jealous.Â
It makes sense that you might be seeing someone, that there might be someone else. After all, youâre you. Desirable. You look up at the stranger, leaning on him, smiling and flashing your teeth. Yeah, it makes sense.Â
Turns out, itâs easier to pretend that he doesnât feel anything when he thinks youâre interested in someone else. He likes to think it will save him the time of wondering.Â
â
Kei has cleaned his room approximately four times today. Sure, itâs overboard, but every time he goes into it, he notices something else that needs to be spruced up. Like a pot with a leak, there is always something that he seemed to miss the last time he went through and cleaned up.Â
Itâs not like youâll be in his room tonight anyway, but you will be in his apartment and thatâs close enough to his room that he, for whatever reason, needs to make it so spotless that it looks like a set. Kei knows though, that even when youâre here, heâll be wondering if thereâs something else that he missed beyond the closed door and heâll think about it incessantly.Â
Heâs been avoiding the thought of him liking you. Instead, Kei cleans and cleans and then cleans some more for good measure. Itâs not like he has any sort of claim on you and he knows that itâs stupid to feel jealous over one interaction he witnessed by chance, but his mind is running away with him. Was that person your boyfriend? Has he been begrudgingly pining over a taken person all these months? Do you think that heâs creepy because of it?Â
He doesnât get to be upset over the idea that youâre seeing someone else. Why wouldnât you be? Keiâs done absolutely nothing to indicate his interest in you (or lack thereof), besides maybe telling you that he doesnât hate you. He has no right to feel the way he does, but he spirals anyway. His insecurities, the ones that gnaw at him in the hours before he falls asleep, play in a constant loop in his head. His unreliability, his unpleasant personality, his cynicism, the baggage he carries with him like a badge. All of it piles up one by one.Â
Kei feels like a kid again, losing himself over such a simple interaction, over something so miniscule that it might not even be considered anything at all. There are a plethora of reasons for his feeling like this and Kei thinks he could draw one of his issues out of a hat and it would still somehow address the situation at hand, but all he really feels is hurt and he doesnât want to explain it away. Kei finds that liking someone hurts. It hurts more than it feels good and the uncertainty chews at his patience and leaves it razor thin. Itâs not your fault, nor is it the person Keiâs convinced himself youâre seeing, but he needs someone to blame and it canât be himself.Â
The idea of you relying on someone else makes him nauseous. Heâd never considered the thought before, that you find him as unreliable as others do. Kei wants to be relied on, most of all by you, and that fact makes him upset. Heâs afraid of what you think of him and without the confidence to accept his feelings, it threatens to crush him.Â
Keiâs got this itch over it, so he tries to distract himself. Cleaning his space to prepare for you helps him delude himself that he doesnât quite like you at all. Itâs not your fault. Heâs just confused, like his parents were when they married each other. It hurts. Like they were when they had him to try and fix their marriage, which had started to fall apart even when Akiteru was an only child. Heâs confused. Heâs jealous over your ability to live the way Kei has always wanted to. Thatâs all this is. Nothing more and nothing less. He feels like heâs being split in two, stretched thin between two modes of thinking.Â
Kei glances over his shoulder and into his room one last time. Heâs forgotten to wipe the mirror. He goes back in and the cycle starts itself over.Â
â
Heâs not proud of his behavior. Kei thinks only a seriously huge asshole would be proud of the kind of behavior he displayed tonight. He regrets it immensely, though some part of him is begrudgingly holding onto the idea that maybe he was right to be so short tempered. Of course, thatâs a lunaticâs idea.Â
Tadashi is standing by the apartment door, mumbling something to you behind it. Over Tadashiâs shoulder, he sees you shake your head and in response, Tadashi gives a small bow before shutting the door to the shared apartment. Then, Tadashi turns and walks towards him.Â
Kei doesnât want to look at him, but Tadashi, for some reason, commands his gaze.Â
âIs there a reason you were such a huge cunt tonight?â Tadashi sort of spits the words. They land at Keiâs feet and roll around before settling.Â
âWhat are you talking about? I was normal,â he answers, though the statement sounds like a lie the moment it leaves his lips.Â
âBullshit,â Tadashi says. âYou were being an asshole the second they walked through the door and youâve been one to me all day.âÂ
Kei scoffs, his cheeks burning, âIâve just been tired, dude. Besides, what does it matter? Youâre closer to all of them than I am.â
âWhat? Youâre tired so you just get to be a huge asshole?âÂ
âNo,â Kei responds.Â
âSo then what was that?âÂ
Kei doesnât really know. He doesnât know what prompted him to act so cold or make such snide comments. Itâs true, heâd been in a bad mood all day and he knows that Tadashi has borne the brunt of his misplaced emotions, but even Kei is confused as to why heâd acted the way he did. Still though, there is a part of him that knows that it was connected to his spiraling and what he saw in the library. Heâd sound insane if he said it out loud, like somehow his growth was stunted in the third grade, but Kei is sure it had something to do with liking you and the hurt that comes with it.Â
Itâs not as if heâd been outwardly mean, but he had been cold. There are parts of himself that Kei doesnât want you to see, sections of his personality that he ropes off from you because despite not liking you, he wants you to see the best in him. Tonight, he managed to somehow show off the worst.Â
It started with the noise when everyone had arrived. You, Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, Kiyoko, and Yachi had all piled into the apartment in one large group. Keiâd been sitting on the couch and the sound of the door startled him right off the bat. He assumed that by the time they all had rounded the corner into the living room, his face was already sour, because everyone had greeted him cautiously.Â
Itâs no surprise that everyone was so loud. Kei has known this particular group for many years and they, having all gone to school or work nearby, pile into his apartment often for events like these. You were really the only new factor in all of it and while Kei is known as a touchy person, he certainly was more touchy than usual tonight.Â
Youâd been trying to talk to him all evening and Kei, in a desperate attempt to avoid whatever lingering feelings he had for you, had been shutting you down at every turn. Thinking back on it, heâs endlessly embarrassed. You didnât deserve that. Youâd been nothing but kind to him and there Kei was holding a grudge over you for something he had no right to be angry about whatsoever. He had been holding a grudge over something that heâd learned later that evening that wasnât even true.Â
Kei thinks that what Tadashi is referring to, was deliberately picking a fight with Tanaka. Kei and Tanaka have never been particularly close. Even in high school, his boisterous and somewhat obnoxious personality has always rubbed Kei the wrong way. Despite that, Tanaka has somehow managed to maintain a connection to him through university and the two of them have established a tentative but honest friendship.Â
You had been sitting on the arm of the couch beside Tanaka, leaning over him to look at something he was showing you on his phone. Then, you laughed a little too hard and Kei felt that familiar sense of injustice rise to his throat, thick and heavy. Itâs an ugly feeling, the kind that makes Kei feel sick when heâs in bed late at night. Bile rose in his throat in the form of harsh words. Jealousy in the form of the verbal venom Kei excels at.Â
For Kei, Tanaka was an easy target, someone he could poke at and get a satisfying rise out of. In the moment, the rise heâd gotten from Tanaka by making snide comments about the volume of his voice and his particular obsession with pretty girls had been exactly that, satisfying.Â
Heâd picked a small fight. Nothing physical, but just enough to get him irritated. Keiâs not proud of it, but heâd be lying if he said he hadnât done it deliberately. After all, Tanaka has never been the type to be the bigger person and turn his nose up.Â
Sometimes, when Kei is experiencing emotions heâd rather not deal with, he decides to obsess over one single thing. Usually, itâs cleaning or schoolwork. Tonight, it happened to be the volume of Tanakaâs voice, which he knows was a shitty thing to do. Despite wanting to be reliable, Kei canât help but feel that he was endlessly immature, lashing out at someone completely unrelated to the situation just because he could.Â
Tadashi pulls him from his thoughts.Â
âI thought you liked them, dude,â his voice is even, letting up on the anger.Â
âWho?â Kei plays dumb.Â
Tadashi responds with your name and Kei stiffens slightly. âI thought you guys had gotten closer. What happened?âÂ
âNothing happened,â Kei says. Itâs the truth. Absolutely nothing happened. Kei had spiraled all on his own.Â
âWhy did you ignore them then?âÂ
âI didnât ignore them,â Kei says. Again, itâs not a lie. He may have shut conversations down and been a little cold, but Kei couldnât ignore you if he tried, itâs sort of the whole problem heâs dealing with now.Â
âMaybe, but you were cold. Like⌠needlessly.âÂ
âI was fucking normal, Tadashi. You should know me well enough by now to know that,â Kei spits.Â
âThatâs the problem though, isnât it? I know you and I know that shit wasnât normal. Youâre twisted, but youâre not an outright asshole, Kei. Whatâs going on?âÂ
âI was normal, Tadashi. Just because I didnât bounce around or get rowdy, doesnât mean that something is wrong,â Kei answers.Â
âYeah, but you were like⌠majorly fucking weird, Kei. You were being an asshole. Donât you like them? Donât you want to be nice to them?âÂ
âI donât.âÂ
âYou donât want to be nice to them?â Tadashi scoffs, rolling his eyes.Â
âNo, not that. I donât like them like that anymore,â Kei lies.Â
âOh please, thatâs such horseshit,â Tadashi laughs bitterly.Â
âGet off my ass, Tadashi. I donât fucking feel that way about them anymore,â Kei insists.Â
âDid something happen?âÂ
âNo, literally nothing happened! Why does something have to happen? I just donât like them,â Kei feels himself getting indignant. Tadashi doesnât deserve this either, but he seems to be indiscriminate with his poor behavior tonight.Â
Tadashi looks at Kei for a moment, studying him and calculating all of the things only Tadashi could know about him. Kei tries to hide it.Â
âJesus, Kei, youâve got to stop doing this shit,â Tadashi touches his hand to his forehead.Â
âDoing what?âÂ
âGetting all in your head about every single connection youâve ever had with a person,â Tadashi raises his voice.Â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?âÂ
âIt means Iâve seen you do this a million times! You start to really feel something for a person and then you fucking back away like a dog with its tail between its legs!âÂ
âI donât do that!âÂ
âYes, you do! You sabotage yourself until the other person is forced to do something about it!â Tadashi exhales.Â
âIâve never done that deliberately! What does someone elseâs actions have to do with me?âÂ
âIt doesnât have to do with you,â Tadashi says, âIt has to do with your parents.âÂ
The wind is knocked out of Kei, air sucked from his lungs. He furrows his eyebrows at Tadashi, his mouth slightly open.Â
âIâm right, arenât I?â Tadashi pushes, angry and trying to make him listen. âNot every relationship is like your parentsâ, Kei.âÂ
Tadashi knows heâs stepped over the line the moment he says it. If it hadnât registered before, it registers clearly on his face now, regret settling over Tadashiâs usually bright features. Kei gapes at him for a moment, running through his thoughts and trying to pick out one that best verbalizes what it is he feels. Kei comes up empty.Â
âShit-â Tadashi starts towards him. âKei, Iâm sorry I didnât mean that. Iâm just pissed off I didnât mean to-âÂ
Kei pushes past him. âTadashi, I know you mean well, but donât try to tell me about my fucking parents.âÂ
Tadashi doesnât try to stop him when Kei flings the front door open and walks outside.
â
Kei remembers it like it was yesterday. He remembers all of it.Â
He can clearly recall the way shattered glass looked on the marble tiles of his childhood home. White porcelain, broken up into multitudes by his mother and father. They never laid hands on each other, but everything else in the house was fair game. Keiâs lost count of the amount of broken glass dishes and picture frames heâd swept from the floor.Â
Keiâs parents had always been on and off in their affection for each other. One minute, they were deeply in love and the next, they were at each otherâs throats. Neither of them were bad people, but they made each other bad people. The two of them brought out the worst in each other, maybe on account of knowing the other so well.Â
Akiteru was an accident. His brother knows this because when his parents argued, they never let him forget it. In their spats, leverage was whatever they could get their hands on, and that just happened to be Akiteru and the unfortunate circumstances of an accidental pregnancy.Â
His parents got married at 19, thinking that theyâd be able to handle a child, that their marriage was anything but rushed. They convinced themselves that it was love, when the reality was that Akiteru came because they were too young and stupid to prevent it. At least, thatâs what Kei and Akiteru had settled on in the evenings after the yelling had died down and they were left to make sense of it in their shared bedroom.Â
They had Kei to fix the marriage. Kei knows this because, like Akiteru, his fatherâs marital âsolutionâ in the form of a second child was constant leverage to his mother. Kei grew up asking Akiteru why his mother and father even had children in the first place.Â
Their relationship was rocky and unstable, predictable and toxic. They, like Kei, would do things to get rises out of each other. Theyâd make digs, do things to get under the otherâs skin. They did it for attention, for affection, or out of loathing for the person theyâd decided to make their life partner. When things settled, they got bored. His parents often mistakened calmness for complacency in their relationship. His parents loved each other, but they hated each other just as much, and it was he and Akiteru who paid the price.Â
They got divorced when he was fourteen and any chance of Kei having a normal family went to the courthouse with the divorce papers. Akiteru was 20 at the time and managed to avoid the brunt of the custody battle. Kei still gets unexplainably angry with Akiteru for leaving him alone, though he knows that itâs not his fault. The only way Kei could make sense of it was through blame and it was easier to blame Akiteru for lying about volleyball or leaving him alone than it was to blame himself. Both Keiâs father and mother tried for full custody, not because they loved him that much, but because they knew that it would destroy the other. In the end, Kei spent his weekdays with his mother because she lived closer to his school, and weekends with his father just because.Â
It happens all the time. People grow together, then grow apart, and grow to loathe each other. Kei watched it happen to his parents, he watched it happen to his friends, he watched it happen to himself with his own reflection. Thatâs just the way it goes.Â
The air outside of his apartment is cool and breezy. He can feel the wind through his sweater, cutting through the gaps in the stitching and into his skin. Kei feels like he can think a little better out here, sitting on the short concrete wall with his back to the apartment building. He stares at his feet, outstretched in front of him. He's still wearing his house slippers.Â
Kei did this once when he was younger. The fight that night had been particularly bad and his parents had resulted to throwing things across their bedroom. Kei could hear picture frames shatter through two walls and he wondered which memories theyâd decided to trash. A particularly loud shout had sent Kei out of the front door and onto the curb in front of the house.Â
He remembers crying, staring at his house slippers on the pavement, afraid because he could hear the shouting even from the lawn. Akiteru had come out to get him, sitting down beside him on the curb and putting his arm around him.Â
âAre mom and dad gonna get divorced?â Kei had asked through sniffles.Â
âDivorced? No, no,â Akiteru answered. âItâs just a rough patch. It happens to all couples. Mommy and Daddy will be fine.âÂ
âItâs normal?â Kei sniffled.Â
Akiteru paused for a moment. Looking back, Kei realizes that Akiteru was debating on whether or not to lie to protect him. Kei wishes he hadnât.Â
âYeah, itâs normal.âÂ
Normal. Kei realizes that he doesnât exactly know what a normal relationship looks like. He is his parents' son. What they had in them, he has in him. Kei knows that those habits, the digs, the sour statements, the passive aggressiveness, are all things heâs picked up from watching them. Some role models they were.Â
He needs to apologize to Tadashi. He may have overstepped, but Kei knows that heâd been an asshole tonight. Heâll need to apologize to Tanaka as well. And to you, which is perhaps the scariest part of this. He wants to apologize for his behavior, but apologizing means that he has to admit that heâd acted the way his parents did, out of jealousy and a pull for attention. Yup, heâs his parentsâ son alright.Â
Kei tilts his head up toward the sky. Only half of it is visible, the other half blocked by the three story apartment complex directly behind him. Itâs a clear night, but he canât see any stars and the moon is nowhere to be found. Kei wonders when the morning will come. Itâs a few hours off, but he thinks about how the sky will look when the sun begins to rise.Â
âKei,â a familiar voice calls from in front of him.Â
Youâre a few feet away, your hands clasped in front of you.Â
âThought you went home,â he says.Â
âYeah well, I had intended to,â you start, âbut you seemed off and I felt weird going back without checking on you. Can I sit?âÂ
Kei shrugs his shoulders, mortified and angry at being caught like this. He appreciates the thought, but youâre the last person he wants to see right now. It just means he needs to face his shortcomings sooner.Â
âAre you okay?âÂ
âIâm fine,â Kei answers automatically.Â
âJust decided on some fresh air?â You smile a little and Kei blows air out of his nose.Â
âYup, thatâs exactly it.âÂ
You sit next to him with your legs outstretched the same way his are, your hands are laced together in front of you, hanging down between your thighs. Kei doesnât make an effort to say anything and neither do you. Instead, he just trains his head back up towards the sky and attempts to collect his thoughts, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.Â
Strangely, tonight he doesnât feel nervous. Maybe itâs because he doesnât have the energy to. Maybe heâs too preoccupied with being sorry to pay any mind to the heart palpitations he gets when youâre around. Maybe itâs because even though he showed you the worst of him tonight, you still came back. Itâs a small hope, but itâs there.Â
âHey,â your voice comes quietly, âI donât know whatâs going on, but if you need- I mean- if you want to talk about it, Iâm a pretty good ear.âÂ
Kei nods a little.Â
âIâm sorry,â he says, âabout tonight.âÂ
âI didnât come here for an apology, you know?â You exhale a little.Â
âYeah, but you deserve one,â he says. âI was pretty shitty to you.âÂ
âYeah, you were,â you agree, catching Kei off guard, âbut it happens to all of us. Sometimes we feel things and just canât keep them inside, you know?âÂ
âYeah,â he agrees, swallowing down his shame.Â
Thereâs another long silence. You donât move to touch him or talk to him, instead, you provide steady company. Kei, as strange as it is, is comforted by your presence.Â
âI fought with Tadashi,â Kei says after a few minutes.Â
âToday?âÂ
âYeah, tonight. After everyone left,â he says. âI deserved it though. Iâve been pretty shitty to him all day.âÂ
You hum, leaning back on your hands.Â
âI did the same shit in high school too, you know?â Kei starts. âWeâve uhm- weâve known each other for a while, the group that was over tonight. Around the end of middle school some shit happened and I uh- I took out a lot of what I was feeling on Tadashi and the others, but mostly Tadashi because he was the only one who knew.âÂ
Kei isnât sure why heâs telling you this. Maybe Tadashi was right. Maybe this is another attempt at self sabotage.Â
âYou bullied him?â You ask, a little surprised.Â
Kei shakes his head. âNo, but I wasnât very nice either. Anyone could tell you that. I thought I was past it, though,â he admits, a little defeated.Â
âDid you ever apologize?âÂ
Kei looks up at you in surprise. Your eyes are full of something, curiosity, maybe pity.Â
âFor what you did in school?âÂ
He nods. âCountless times, and not just to Tadashi either, to everyone.âÂ
âYou know, stuff like this happens,â you say. âWhen I was little, I used to hate sharing. Toys, food, friends. Iâd hate it when my friends were friends with other people. It made me insecure and Iâd get mad at them for it. I grew out of it, but sometimes I still get that way and I have to apologize later.âÂ
Kei laughs. Itâs strikingly similar to whatâs happening now, not that youâd have any way of knowing.Â
âI canât imagine you doing that,â he says.Â
âIâm serious,â you say. âI still get weird over it sometimes.âÂ
Kei shakes his head a little, smiling.Â
âAll that Iâm saying is that sometimes we slip up, thatâs all. Itâs normal,â you continue. âNot that Iâm condoning it. Just saying that it doesnât make you a horrible person. It makes you human.âÂ
âThanks,â he says softly.Â
âNo problem,â you respond.Â
âSo whyâd you fight with him tonight?âÂ
âHe was angry with me because I was an asshole,â Kei shrugs.
âAnd youâre mad that he called you out?â You give a quiet and somewhat incredulous laugh.Â
Kei shakes his head. âNo, Iâm angry about what he said after.âÂ
âWhatâd he say?âÂ
Kei debates on telling you. He doesnât want to make himself out to be a victim. After all, Tadashi meant no harm, even if his comment did exactly that.Â
âThe argument kind of switched subjects,â Kei tiptoes around the fact that the subject was you. âHe brought up a bad habit of mine and I got defensive.âÂ
âOkay,â you say, waiting for him to say more.Â
âRemember when I said that something happened at the end of middle school and only Tadashi knew about it?â When you nod, Kei continues. âMy parents got divorced. They were a bad match and it was messy. He brought it up.âÂ
You nod again, your eyes wide.Â
âHe didnât mean any harm, I know that,â Kei inhales. âBut uh- that stuff kind of sticks with you. Well, itâs stuck with me and I didnât like having it used to explain my behaviors, even if he was right. Iâm not deflecting or anything though. I know I was the problem tonight.âÂ
âSure,â you say. âIâm sorry about your parents.âÂ
Kei shrugs. âItâs in the past. Theyâre both remarried now with new kids.âÂ
The last sentence leaves Kei with a sour taste in his mouth. His parents are good people, but after his childhood, he doesnât think they have any business having more children. Maybe theyâre capable of being good for them, but Kei doesnât like to imagine that. It makes him feel like their marriage wasnât the problem, but he and Akiteru were.Â
âYou say that like they got a new pet,â you smile a little. âAre you still in touch with them?âÂ
âYeah,â he says. âI visit whenever I go back home, though theyâre really not too far from here.âÂ
âThatâs good of you.âÂ
âWell, they are my parents,â Kei says plainly.Â
Youâre the only other person heâs divulged this to by choice and your reactions, understanding and level-headed, make him feel better. Itâs like getting a weight off of his chest. This is the worst of him. This little bit of information, his history of being unable to fully confront his feelings, of taking anger out on others when he was young, is where his problems originate.Â
âYeah, but youâre allowed to feel what you feel about it,â you say. âMy mom died when I was eleven. Texting and driving. Iâm still angry at her for it.âÂ
âIâm sorry,â he says.Â
You shrug and offer him a wry smile. âItâs in the past, but Iâm still angry even though I shouldnât be.âÂ
âAt her?âÂ
âYeah,â you nod. âShe made a stupid mistake that weâre constantly warned about and left my dad and me behind. I was so angry with her, still am. I love her though, perceived faults and all.âÂ
Kei thinks about whether or not he loves his parents. He thinks he does, even if he resents them. Kei canât imagine what heâd do without them. Even though his childhood had few emotional comforts, he still canât think about a world where he doesnât visit home to have his motherâs cooking. Thatâs a world that you live in.Â
âThatâs hard.â Itâs all Kei can think to offer.Â
âIt was,â you say. âGot easier though as soon as I started accepting things. Now I just miss her more than I hate her.â
Another bout of silence follows this. It must be close to two in the morning and heâs been outside so long that he can no longer feel the tip of his nose.Â
âAnyway, about tonight,â you say, âitâs not a crime to feel what you feel, but if you need help, thatâs what weâre here for. Itâs easier to accept feelings and get hurt than to ignore them, donât you think?âÂ
âYeah,â Kei says, looking to face you. âThank you.âÂ
Youâre so pretty. Itâs striking. The curvature and angles of your face, the gentle look in your eyes, softened by the conversation. Kei finds himself thinking that despite not wanting to face you a few hours earlier, heâs grateful that you showed up. Youâre good in ways that Kei can hardly fathom.Â
âYou should go inside. Tadashi is probably wondering where you are,â you say, standing up. âPlus,â you pinch the tip of his nose between your middle and pointer knuckles, âyour nose looks like a cherry tomato.â
âRude,â he says, startled by the sudden touch.Â
âPayback,â you shrug your shoulders and Kei rolls his eyes.Â
âDo you need me to walk you home?â Kei offers, a bit nervous about you walking home on your own.Â
âIâd love to take you up on that, but you seem tired and I donât live very far,â you respond. âIâll call you when I get home though, okay? Since youâre so worried.âÂ
Kei laughs a little and then nods, standing up. âYeah, I am.âÂ
His honesty surprises even him, but you just tilt your head and give him a small smile.Â
âIâll see you on Monday,â you say. âThanks for the apologyâÂ
âAnytime.â
âI hope not,â you laugh and Kei follows suit.Â
You begin to turn on your heel, giving a small wave.Â
Kei doesnât know what overcomes him, but he calls out your name and reaches for your wrist. Before he has a moment to think about what heâs doing, he pulls you to his chest in a hug. You stiffen and then relax in his grip, wrapping your arms around him. Your body is warmer than his, sending heat through the gaps in his sweater.Â
âYou can call even if itâs not to tell me you got home safe,â he says. âIf you want to.âÂ
You squeeze him around the middle. âOkay, I will.âÂ
When Kei lets go, he finds that his face is burning. The cold has been replaced by a flush of blood, making his vision a little syrupy.
âThanks for coming back,â he says. âGet home safe.âÂ
âOf course,â you sound a little dazed, wearing an expression that Kei thinks might match his. âAnd I will.âÂ
Then, you smile at him, flashing your teeth and giving him a wave. You hold up your phone and point to it.Â
âExpect a call!âÂ
Kei nods and raises his arm to wave goodbye.
He stands and watches your figure as you walk down the sidewalk and turn the corner. When youâre out of sight, he lingers by the door to his building, just in case you decide to come back. You donât come back, but Kei lingers anyway, considering the conversation.Â
He goes inside, intent on apologizing to Tadashi. When he opens the door to his apartment, the lights are still on in the living room and Tadashi gets up from the couch and walks quickly down the hall to him.
âKei, Iâm so sorry, I didnât mean to-âÂ
âDonât worry,â Kei says. âI know. Iâm sorry about tonight too. And for treating you like that today. And for high school.âÂ
âHigh school?â Tadashi says, confused. âWhy are you bringing up high school?âÂ
âJust wanted to apologize again.âÂ
Kei can feel his eyes drooping, exhaustion creeping into his body and replacing the elated feeling he had moments before.Â
âI didnât mean to bring your parents into it. How you like someone is none of my business,â Tadashi says. âI was out of line.âÂ
âSo was I,â Kei admits through a tired sigh. âI shouldnât have acted that way. Iâll apologize to the others in the morning.âÂ
Tadashi narrows his eyes a little and nods. Kei, besieged by that sleepy late night feeling, moves towards his bedroom.Â
âHey, Kei,â his voice comes out a little louder this time. âYouâre being surprisingly easy-going. Are we good?âÂ
Kei scoffs a little, rubbing his eyes. âI just had some time to think, thatâs all. And yeah, weâre good.âÂ
âOkay, are you good?âÂ
âYeah, I am,â Kei says.Â
Before he closes the door to his room, he furrows his eyebrows and makes a firm decision.Â
âBy the way,â Tadashi turns to him, cocking his head to the side in response. âI lied. I do like them.âÂ
âCould have guessed as much,â he responds, laughing a little. âSee you in the morning.âÂ
âYup, see you in the morning.âÂ
Kei shuts the door to his room. It clicks into place quietly. His room is spotless. It looks like a room that could be easily emptied at any time. He sighs, stepping into it and laying down on his bed. His phone is on the comforter next to him, lying face up.Â
When it lights up, it illuminates the ceiling above him and he answers the phone without needing to check who's calling.Â
âHello?âÂ
âHey, I got home safe,â he hears your keys clink against something and then the sound of a door shutting. Then, he hears the sound of you laying down on your bed. He imagines youâre lying the same way he is.Â
âGood, Iâm glad,â he says. âNo trouble?âÂ
âNo trouble at all,â you say. He can hear your smile.Â
âThanks again for coming back tonight,â he says, turning over onto his side and letting the phone rest on the bed in front of his face.Â
âOf course,â you say.
He doesnât know what else to say. His nerves have caught up to him and your voice through the speaker sounds so close, like youâre whispering directly into his ear.Â
âOkay, well Iâm going to go to bed,â Kei starts.Â
âKei?â you say.Â
âYeah?âÂ
âIâm gonna take you up on your offer. About calling you. Just wanted you to know.âÂ
âOkay,â he swallows.Â
âI feel a lot closer to you.â
âYeah, me too.âÂ
âGoodnight, Kei,â you practically whisper.Â
âGoodnight,â he responds, lowering his voice the same way you did. You hang up the phone and the call ends.Â
He blinks at his phone for a moment before standing up and getting ready for bed. Kei goes through the motions while thinking about how the evening got here. Heâd been certain before it began that he no longer liked you, that he was confused. Now, heâs certain of the opposite.Â
He decides that heâll like you for real this time. Even if heâs afraid of hurting himself, of hurting you.
Kei lays down in his bed and faces the ceiling. He thinks about his parents, about your mother, about you. The cadence of your voice, the slight tremor in it. He thinks about your expressions, understanding and unintrusive. He thinks about your history, the anger youâd admitted to him and the grace youâd given him in his own circumstances.Â
He dreams of braids, like DNA. Coils of pink yarn woven together in an intricate pattern. A molecular change not visible to the naked eye. Morning comes like liquid gold, spilling across his bedspread in slats through the window.
â
Keiâs apologies go smoothly. Tadashiâs friendsâhis friendsâare good people. They know him better than most and field his awkward, stumbling apology with steady hands.Â
Heâd explained his sour mood in as little detail as possible, deliberately omitting his feelings for you while doing so, and he made a special effort to apologize to Tanaka. Heâs easygoing and quick to forget, but Kei knows that even after accepting the apology, Tanaka will lord it over his head for a week or two. Tanaka thinks those kinds of things are funny and Kei wonât try to tell him otherwise.Â
You do take Kei up on his offer. You call him twice a week now. Sometimes itâs to tell him something relevant to him, other times, you just whisper into the phone that you just felt like talking. Either way, itâs not good for his heart. Kei thinks that at this rate, it might just give out.Â
There are a lot of things that Kei could say about liking you. It makes his days a little brighter. When he remembers that he has someone he cares about like that, he feels a surge of excitement for no particular reason. He finds that he looks forward to seeing you and goes out of his way to do so, more than he did before he was willing to admit it.Â
Heâs noticed the way you eat, like every bite of food is even better than the last. Heâs noticed that you wipe the condensation off of your cups before each sip. Heâs noticed that when youâre studying, youâll pull at the collar of your shirt absentmindedly and then become frustrated when it is stretched out of place. Kei likes all of these things about you.Â
Kei has also found that liking someone hurts. It hurts worse than he thought it would. Insecurity weaves its way into even the most minor of interactions. Heâs self conscious almost all of the time, adjusting his hair, clothing, glasses right down to minor details. As of late, Kei appears more put together than he ever has, but the reality is that heâs probably the least put together heâs ever been.Â
When youâre around, Kei is awkward and clumsy. He drops things, trips over nothing, loses control over his lanky limbs and overshoots things. He feels like a teenager again, not that heâs that far off from one.Â
Still, one thing overshadows all of this. Kei is so comfortable around you, so peaceful despite the nerves and insecurity, that heâs able to forget about the worst of it. Forgetting about the worst of things is not something Kei is particularly good at. Heâs cynical by nature. You help to ease the burden of it.Â
The coffee shop heâs visiting with you today is quiet. The room is decorated with dark oak wood and the tables are accented by the rings of the trees the wood was cut from. The early spring light filters in at angles through the windows letting out onto the street. It falls across your notebooks and the knuckles of your hand, wrapped evenly around a black pen.Â
Youâd brought him here to study instead of going to the library and Kei canât help but think that it feels like a date. His tea sits half-finished in a mug beside his laptop, beginning to cool to room temperature. Your coffee sits by your unoccupied hand and every now and then, youâll reach to take a sip of the warm beverage without even glancing up.Â
Kei has spent so much time watching you today, that heâs hardly gotten any work done. His computer is open on a document with a paragraph of writing about nudity in the classical period, which he hasnât touched in about 10 minutes. Heâs been clicking blankly around the page, adding spaces and then deleting them and then glancing up over the edge of the screen to look at the way you purse your lips when youâre focused.Â
âYouâd get a lot more done if you stopped staring,â you say, not looking up from your notebook.Â
Kei chokes on his exhale. âWhat?âÂ
You laugh a little, looking up at him through your lashes. God, youâre pretty.Â
âThe document?â You chuckle. âYouâre not fooling anyone by clicking around randomly like that.âÂ
âOh,â Kei furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head a little. âYeah, just canât seem to focus.âÂ
âWhatâs the paper on?â You set down your pen and cross your arms on the table.Â
âItâs not really a paper,â he says. âItâs a visual analysis on the Aphrodite of Knidos.âÂ
âIs that the one without the arms?âÂ
âNo, but they come from the same family of statues,â Kei smiles a little.Â
You hum a bit. âDo you like it?âÂ
âLike, do I think the statueâs pretty?â Kei closes the screen of his laptop to see you better. âYeah, I do. Learning about the history of it is a bit depressing though.âÂ
âWhy?âÂ
âWell, Aphrodite was one of the most powerful Greek gods, right?â He says, and you nod your head and roll your eyes because you know that already. âBut this statue group intrudes on a private moment of hers. Sheâs trying to cover up her body, probably just before or after a bath. Itâs meant to be humiliating.âÂ
You tilt your head. âSounds more interesting than molecular structures at least.âÂ
Kei laughs a little. âYeah, I think itâs just a bit more interesting.âÂ
âWhy did you choose to study art history?â You question, leaning forward on your elbows.Â
Kei feels awkward at receiving the question. He doesnât like talking about himself much, let alone his passions. They tend to get away from him.Â
âProbably because Iâm no good at art,â he smiles a little.Â
âSuch a shame, what with your artistâs hands and all,â you reach across the table and tap his knuckle.Â
Kei feels the color rise to his cheeks.Â
âYouâre no good at art, so you study art history instead?â You press for more.Â
âYeah,â he says. âI like things that people make with their hands. Thereâs a lot of human expression in ancient art, good and bad. Gives a bit more context into who we were before.âÂ
You lean back in the chair, grinning at him. Kei bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to notice the slope of your neck.Â
âWhy are you studying molecular bio?â He changes the subject.Â
You shrug your shoulders. âI want a good cushy job that makes me a lot of money.âÂ
Kei watches the corners of your lips curl up.Â
âPlus,â you continue, âI wanted to show off a little bit.âÂ
âSo you put yourself through four years of torture?â He raises an eyebrow.Â
âYup, Iâm a huge masochist,â you grin.Â
âYou STEM kids are unbearable, you know?â Kei snorts.Â
âBut you like me anyway, yeah?âÂ
Kei nods, heat creeping up his neck, and watches you return to your work.Â
Itâs true, he does like you anyway. Kei likes you so much, in fact, that it frightens him. Well, the idea of liking someone has always frightened Kei, whether heâs noticed it or not. Commitment, or lack thereof, make Kei nervous in the same way heights do. He feels like he could lose his footing at any moment.Â
Thatâs probably why he doesnât want to do anything in particular about his feelings. Kei is content with just feeling them. Heâs content to just be able to like you in his own way, even if nothing ever comes of it. He probably shouldnât do anything about them, considering the back and forth battle heâs waged in his mind over the last few months. Heâs too indecisive to do anything but like you, and even that feels herculean to accept.Â
Not that liking you is a hard thing to do. Youâre easy to like. Itâs easy for him to picture touching you. Itâs easy for Kei to imagine late night conversations and little intimacies shared over damp pillows. Youâre easy to talk to, floating through conversations and navigating conflict with a sure step, something Kei canât do. Itâs not hard to find things to admire.Â
Kei imagines what it would be like to be with you. He imagines the feel of your hands in his, how you might look spread beneath him, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips. He imagines how his glasses might fog up with your breath and slip down the bridge of his nose. What do you taste like? What do you feel like?Â
A little alarm bell sounds in his head. This is a dangerous line of thought, a greedy one. Kei doesnât think he can handle greed, not when it comes to you. He got a taste of it that day when he saw you leave with someone else and again the following Friday. Kei doesnât mix well with it, with wanting. Still, he wants.Â
â
Itâs a breezy day. It cuts the growing humidity as the beginning of May creeps on. This is no doubt one of the best times of year, though Kei prefers the fall or winter. Still, even with the slightly sticky air, his walk to class is pleasant. Heâd even venture to say that itâs good.Â
Light filters through the trees, blooming with their spring flowers, and in the distance he can see a familiar row of cherry blossoms just beginning to bloom. As he approaches them, he finds himself admiring their delicate petals, wondering just how brief their bloom will be before they come cascading down. One tree among the pink rows has yet to open its flowers. The buds sit on their branches, shades of green and gray. A late bloomer. This tree will no doubt flower once the other petals have fallen, and when it does, itâll become the most eye-catching thing on the street.Â
Kei admires it for a moment, standing below the thing and looking up through its twisting branches. Itâs so small, much smaller than the rest of its counterparts, and its branches donât look too full of yet-to-bloom buds either.Â
There was a tree like this outside of Keiâs childhood home, the one his family lived in together when it was whole. It would always bloom a week after the others and every year he would worry that it never would. Of course, he kept this fear to himself, but he often watched it from his bedroom window when Akiteru was out. Heâd press his face against the glass and pray for the flowers to come so that it didnât get left behind. Sure enough though, it would bloom without fail and leave scattered pink petals across his yard and doorstep. Kei wonders if this tree in front of him will do the same.Â
âThinking about changing your major to plant sciences, Kei?âÂ
He jumps, started by your voice and your proximity.Â
âJesus,â Kei turns, âyou need a bell or something.âÂ
âYouâre the one standing in public staring at a tree with no flowers on it,â you laugh a little.Â
Kei shrugs his shoulders, not really willing to give an explanation for the train of thought he was just on.Â
âWhereâre you headed?â he questions.Â
âDropping off an assignment,â you smile lightly, âwanna come with me?âÂ
âI canât. Iâve got a class in 15.âÂ
âFifteen minutes is fifteen minutes,â you shrug. âWeâll make it.âÂ
âWe?â Kei raises an eyebrow.Â
âYeah, you come with me to drop off my paper and then I drop you off at class. Itâs a win-win.âÂ
âSounds like Iâm just doing a lot of extra walking,â Kei snorts.Â
âYeah, but you get to do it with me so itâll be more fun.âÂ
Kei folds and goes with you to drop off your assignment. Itâs an essay assigned by an old-fashioned professor who doesnât like electronic submissions. You comment off-handedly on what a waste of paper it is and Kei nods, just happy to hear about it.Â
Itâs strange. Kei is normally very tied to his routine. It keeps him sane, helps him to organize his thoughts and feelings into neat compartments. For Kei, an orderly life is an orderly mind. Somehow though, you ask him to deviate from that and heâs more than willing, eager even, to oblige you. Better yet, he does it without feeling off-kilter. Well, without feeling as off-kilter about his daily life. When it comes to you, Kei is about as stable as a pogo stick.Â
The walk to your professor's office is only a few minutes from his classroom, just a few buildings over, but by the time you both arrive there, Keiâs palms are sweating. He resorts to shoving them in his pockets and wiping them on the inside of his pants, mortified at the idea of accidentally touching you like this.Â
âHey, about tonight,â you start after dropping the paper off with a quick bow.Â
Youâre supposed to come over. Itâs the first time you and Kei have agreed to hang out at one of your places alone and Kei has been compartmentalizing his nerves so harshly that heâd almost forgotten about it entirely. Maybe that explains his easy-going mood.Â
âYeah?âÂ
âSo, Tadashi may have mentioned it in front of the others,â you give him a sheepish grin, âand they may have asked to come and I definitely told them âthe more the merrierâ.âÂ
âOh, yeah?â Keiâs a little disappointed. âSo theyâre coming too?âÂ
âYeah, is that okay?â You furrow your eyebrows.Â
Kei canât very well come out and say that it isnât, because his reason for thinking that is entirely about monopolizing your time. Kei says he doesnât want to do anything about these feelings, but that doesnât mean that he canât indulge just a little into the foreign feeling of accepting that heâs âin likeâ.Â
âYeah sure, why wouldnât it be?âÂ
You raise an eyebrow at him and Kei misses the message entirely.Â
âI dunno, youâre not really a fan of bigger groups right?âÂ
âNot really,â Kei shrugs, âbut Iâve known them for a while so it doesnât count.âÂ
You nod your head and then smile. âGreat! Now, where is your class?âÂ
âSocial Sciences,â Kei glances down at the brown watch on his wrist. âIn about⌠four minutes.âÂ
âWanna run? Canât be late, can you?âÂ
Kei does not want to run. He runs anyway. Youâre faster than he is and your step is louder. The soles of your shoes thump on the floor with every step you take and your whole body lurches forward with each bound. When you reach the end of the hallway his class is in, Kei is completely winded. Considering that he plays volleyball as a hobby, he should really be in better shape. He attributes his lack of breath to your presence. Maybe heâd been holding it while watching you run.Â
You glance into his full classroom, giving him a relieved look upon seeing that the professor has not begun her lecture yet. Then, you bounce twice on the tips of your toes and start jogging in the other direction.Â
âHave a good class!â You call.Â
âWhatâs the rush?â he questions.Â
âIâve got class now too, dummy. Just wanted to hang out with you for a few more minutes.â Then, you turn and run off, your bag bouncing against the side of your leg as you round a corner and fly down a set of stairs.Â
Thatâs the thing about you that Kei canât get enough of. When Kei takes a step back, when he resigns himself to being okay with just a chance meeting and a brief hello, you take a step forward. Whatever Kei lacks, you make up for tenfold. Your outstretched hand makes him greedier. It makes Kei want more than heâs ever wanted before. He goes to class starved for something that isnât food, a feeling Kei hasnât experienced often, let alone leaned into. He lets himself feel the hunger.Â
â
Day melts away to a cool evening, still slightly wet, but like the dampness before rain. The air loses its warm touch, creeping into something chillier. Kei opens his bedroom window to let the air in. He likes the smell of cool nights. He wants his room to smell like it when he sleeps tonight.Â
âSorry that I spilled the beans about tonight,â Tadashi leans in the doorway of his room.Â
âItâs not like that,â Kei rolls his eyes, already irritated with the implication that whatever you and Kei had organized was anything more than two friends hanging out.Â
âSure it isnât,â he laughs.Â
âIâm serious dude,â Kei fights the urge to throw something soft at him.Â
âYou wanted to hang out with them alone, right?â Tadashi tilts his head. His dark hair falls to the side and around his neck.Â
âI just said it wasnât like that!âÂ
Tadashi gives an even laugh. âYouâre the one making it dirty, Tsukki, not me.âÂ
Heat floods Keiâs face, painting it red.Â
âCaught ya,â Tadashi smiles.Â
âWhen the hell are you moving out?â Kei grumbles and Tadashi gives another good natured laugh.Â
âNot until you do. Youâre stuck with me.âÂ
âNot if I kill you,â Kei doesnât smile when he says this.Â
Tadashi barks a laugh. âSo what changed?âÂ
âWhat do you mean?âÂ
âI mean with you. You seem a little more upbeat lately,â Tadashi says. âNothing like the sad sack from a few months ago.âÂ
âI was kidding before but now Iâm serious. I really will kill you.âÂ
Tadashi shakes his head a little but doesnât say anything, intruding on Keiâs space until he gives an answer.Â
âI just got tired of it, thatâs all,â Kei says evenly, though itâs a little hard to admit.Â
âTired of what?âÂ
âPretending,â he says plainly, glancing up at Tadashi in the doorway.Â
âBecause of them?âÂ
âNo,â he starts. âMaybe. I donât know. Can you leave now?âÂ
Tadashi shakes his head. âToo curious to leave.âÂ
âI donât have an answer for you,â Kei grumbles. âI got tired of pretending I didnât want them.âÂ
âNot like you were very good at pretending,â Tadashi laughs and Kei tosses him a sharp look.Â
He raises his hands defensively, tucking his chin downwards and laughing lightly. âOkay, fine. Iâm gone now.âÂ
âTheyâll be here in an hour or so, by the way,â Kei adds and Tadashi gives a little hum to confirm that heâs heard him as he leaves the room.Â
Kei glances around his room. The floor is bare, save for a small mat by the side of his bed to keep the shock of warm feet on a cold floor in the morning away. That notebook, dear to him as it is, still sits on the desk. Itâs empty, but Kei likes the look of it.Â
The hour before you and his friends are meant to arrive goes by so slowly that Kei worries that heâs gotten the day wrong. He incessantly checks his watch. Itâs a brown leather watch with a square face. Thin and somewhat old fashioned, Kei prefers it to pulling his phone out to check the time. His Dad has one like it, almost matching. It had been given to him as a gift at his high school graduation and Kei had accepted it begrudgingly. Heâd not been on good terms with his parents then and having them both in the same space for his graduation day was more trouble than it was worth. Still, he wears the watch almost daily. Despite having the impression that his parents never really cared about him, it was a fine gift for him and the brown strap suits his light skin tone in the same way it suits his fatherâs.Â
He walks to the mirror in his room, hanging on the wall beside his nightstand, and peers into it. Keiâs curly hair is somewhat unruly. Itâs hard to manage, especially in the warmer months when his waves turn into frizzy curls that he canât seem to keep down. Itâs gotten longer, coming down to just above the bottom of his ears at the back and curls upwards in licks of thick blond.Â
Kei fiddles with it for a moment, tucking it behind his ears and then deciding to pull it forward. He could put gel in it to help calm it down, but he hates the greasy look of it and heâs never been one to primp and preen. He adjusts his glasses on his nose, square frames in a tortoiseshell pattern. They look expensive, though theyâre only a cheap pair that heâd found at the drug store and had the lenses replaced.Â
He looks normal. Kei looks like himself, if not a bit flushed in the face from his nerves. His reflection is one he is oddly unfamiliar with, despite it being his throughout his entire life. At some point during high school, heâd stopped recognizing the man in the mirror as Kei and started viewing him as a separate entity. Kei Two, a version of him that can make a home out of a space and find things to write in his notebook. Kei Twoâs family is still whole and unbroken, and he likes to imagine that heâs a little more friendly than the real-world version. He looks away from the mirror, content today with being the original.Â
Kei is in the living room and around the corner when the front door latch clicks open and is followed by a symphony of raucous voices. He takes a sharp inhale, unsure of why this feels so different from the hundreds of other times youâve all piled into his living room.Â
âWhereâs Kei?â He hears you call, dragging out the syllable of his name in a soft hum.Â
Thatâs why. Itâs because this time, youâve come here to see him specifically. Youâre not here to see Tadashi or by chance, youâre here because youâd made plans to see Kei. Thatâs what makes it different.Â
You round the corner and Kei is hit full force in the chest with his emotions and his nerves. It happens all at once, keeping the air from his lungs. Youâre smiling, beaming even, and Kei thinks that maybe itâs because you can hear the hammer of his heart against his chest.Â
âHi,â you breathe, plopping down next to him on the couch.Â
âHey,â he chokes out.Â
Kei chides himself for his nerves. Heâd been doing better about getting weird around you, but today he feels closer to blowing up than he ever has.Â
Hinata, Kageyama, Yachi, and Noya make their way into the kitchen, each one clapping Tadashi on the back as they do. They beeline for their fridge, opening the door and flooding the floor with artificial white light as they pull out enough beers and sodas to supply a small army. Kei wonders why he and Tadashi ever bought so many of them. Kei hardly drinks, but he supposes that Tadashi just likes to host.Â
âTanaka and Kiyoko?â Tadashi questions as he makes his way into the living room with the group. His beer cracks open with a satisfying pop.Â
âDate night,â Noya says, sinking into one of the arm chairs situated around the coffee table. âSo annoying.â
He groans about Kiyoko, someone heâs all but worshiped since high school.Â
âYouâre just mad it isnât you,â Kageyama quips, giving a somewhat mean grin.Â
âNot true,â Noya argues. âI am the happiest person in the world for them! But now they go on dates and I canât come. Itâs like I lost a bro.âÂ
âYouâre so overreacting,â Yachi adds, her lips forming around high pitched syllables. âTheyâre here most of the time.âÂ
âYeah, most but not all,â Noya pouts.Â
âGive the same energy to Daichi, Suga, and Asahi next time, kay?â Tadashi laughs.Â
Their friend group is a large one, consisting of most (if not all) of their highschool volleyball team. While Hinata, Kageyama, and Yachi are the same age as Kei and Tadashi, Tanaka and Noya are a year older, and Kiyoko is two. Daichi, Asahi, and Suga all went to universities outside of Sendai, meaning they hardly ever see them. All in all, the rest of the group is pretty bummed about it. Kei just finds that he misses having Daichi around to reel everyone in. Now that heâs gone, that job has somehow gone to Tadashi, who is more of an enabler than anything else.Â
âTheyâre different and you know it,â Noya frowns, opening his open beer with a hiss through his teeth.Â
You lean to the side, bumping your shoulder against Keiâs.Â
âWhoâre Daichi, Suga, and Asahi?â You ask softly.Â
âYouâve never met?â Kei furrows his eyebrows and you shrug.Â
âMaybe, but if I have it was only once or twice.âÂ
âTheyâre friends from our volleyball team in highschool, but theyâre two years older.âÂ
âOkay, so one year older than me?âÂ
Kei blinks a few times. âYouâre a year older than me?âÂ
âYeah?â You laugh a little like itâs obvious.Â
âBut arenât you a fourth year?â He furrows his eyebrows.Â
âI took a year off before starting college,â you shrug your shoulders. âThought that I had to get my sillies out.âÂ
âYour sillies?â Kei laughs a little.Â
âYeah,â you smile, âand I had to save up some money. It makes the world go âround, you know?âÂ
âWhat are you guys whispering about?â Tadashi gives Kei a wry grin over the top of his beer can.Â
Itâs only then that Kei realizes the way you both are leaning into each other. Heâs tilting his head down to hear you better and youâre leaning forward. It gives off the impression of two people conspiring, of closeness that Kei hadnât even realized had crept up on him.Â
âI was asking who Daichi, Suga, and Asahi are,â you shrug off the moment, leaning back in the chair.Â
This prompts a chorus of disbelief, everyone jumping in to describe them to you. Kei takes it as a moment to breathe, inhaling and exhaling. He can feel your thigh against his, just barely there and bleeding warmth through the fabric of his jeans.Â
They delve into stories about nationals, little details that Kei had forgotten a long time ago. Every now and then, someone will bring up Keiâs more-than-sour personality and he will feel the need to hide the embarrassment on his cheeks. Even though you know about it, itâs still mortifying for Kei to hear. He wants you to see the best in him, but any hopes he had of you forgetting are quickly washed away as someone brings up Keiâs relentless prodding of Kageyamaâs easily pushed buttons.Â
You laugh along with them like you were there, amused to hear stories about your college friends in their high school years. Kei finds himself thinking that you fit very well into this scene.Â
Still though, despite the fun heâs having, Keiâs battery begins to run out quickly and after a long game of cards, he gets up to take a quick break in the kitchen. Itâs not that he wants the night to end, but rather that he just needs a minute to himself and uses the idea of more snacks as an excuse for it.Â
He reaches into a cabinet, pulling out a half-finished bag of chips and setting them on the counter. Theyâre clipped with a bright red chip-clip from the grocery store and Kei thinks that because of that, they shouldnât have gone stale yet. If it were the peak of summer, Kei might think twice, but this time of year, they should be fine.
Then, he bends down to get a large white mixing bowl from a lower cabinet. Their plates and bowls are kept in various different cabinets, though the only reason they stay somewhat organized is because of Kei.Â
âDone already?â You lean your hip against the counter.Â
âWith what?â Kei struggles to keep his eyes from following the line of your body.Â
âHanging out,â you smile lightly.Â
âNot really,â he says. âJust needed a minute and decided to get more snacks.âÂ
âWanna go sit outside for a bit then?âÂ
Kei glances into the living room where the group chatters away. Heâd hate to be stopped on the way.Â
âRelax,â you laugh. âTheyâre so caught up they wonât even notice that weâre gone.âÂ
Kei furrows his eyebrows and then shrugs, swallowing his heart down with the spit that has pooled in his mouth. He follows you out of the front door, shutting it with a quiet click and heading down the steps of the complex and to the concrete wall lining the shrubbery outside. Itâs the same place youâd come back to talk to him at all those weeks ago, though he is in considerably better spirits than he was then.Â
Itâs a cool night, the gentle heat of the day completely burned off to make way for a crisp breeze. He inhales, wishing that he had brought a drink to fiddle with and sip on to distract him from his nerves.Â
You sit beside him, leaning back on your palms with your legs outstretched in front of you. Your hand is only a few inches from his and Kei sucks in a breath when he accidentally touches it while he gets comfortable. You only offer him a little smile in response.Â
âSorry again about bringing the troops here,â you speak first.Â
âThatâs really okay,â he says. âContrary to popular belief, I actually really like them.âÂ
You snort. âI hope so.âÂ
Kei inhales louder than he intends to and when you look at him like heâs going to say something, he just holds his breath and shakes his head. The air only leaves him when you finally look away.Â
âKind of a bummer though,â you start, âI was kinda excited about just hanging out with you.âÂ
Keiâs breath catches in his throat. He swallows to move the metaphorical blockage.Â
âWe hang out all the time though,â he says like itâs enough. Of course itâs not enough.Â
âGuess so,â you smile a little, though Kei can hear the distinct turn of disappointment in your voice.Â
âYou know,â he starts, already embarrassed at what heâs going to admit. âI wanted to be your friend for a while.âÂ
âOh yeah?â you smile, opening up again and turning towards him. âWhy?âÂ
Kei shrugs, resisting the urge to shut down completely. Itâs embarrassing admitting to someone that you wanted to know them before you actually knew them.Â
âYou kind of reminded me of Tadashi,â he says. âAnd you both got along so well.âÂ
âTadashi? Iâm nothing like Tadashi,â you laugh, shaking your head.Â
âWhat? No, you two are so similar,â Kei insists, lacing his fingers together.Â
âWhat about us is so similar?âÂ
âWell, youâre both sociable and warm andâŚâ Kei trails off. He canât really think of anything else. You look at him with an expectant look in your eyes.Â
âSee?âÂ
Kei realizes that the two of you are not similar at all. Your warmth is where the similarity stops. Heâd been likening you to Tadashi this entire time, not because the two of you are similar, but because you make him feel similar to the way Tadashi does. Safe and comfortable, though with the added addition of deeply awkward. He realizes that without the safety net of you being like Tadashi, heâs never had any ability to deny his feelings and with that they rage full force around the corner and slam into his chest like a heavy blow.Â
âWeâre nothing like each other,â you laugh and lean back against your palms. âThough, it would be cool to be like Tadashi.âÂ
Kei experiences the sudden realization that he doesnât want you to be like Tadashi. Kei wants you to be like him. He wants you to be greedy and want him the same way he wants you. He wants you to be able to keep up with his turns and his moods, something he didnât realize he wanted in the first place. If youâre like Kei, then Kei doesnât have to be afraid of showing you the worst. Youâll have already seen it. If youâre like Kei and he loves you, then what is stopping you from loving him?Â
âEven if youâre not like Tadashi, thatâs fine.â His cheeks burn.Â
âYeah?âÂ
âYeah, I like you all the same,â he admits quietly.Â
âThe same? As Tadashi?â You purse your lips a little. âI thought I was a little different. Was I wrong?âÂ
Kei wants to kiss you. Kei wants to kiss you so badly that his mouth has gone dry and his lips feel like theyâve separated from his body. Anything heâd thought about not wanting anything with you flies out of the window with your proximity. Youâre so close to him. Close enough that if he leaned a little to the right, his shoulder would be against yours. Youâre so close and youâre looking at him like youâre waiting for something, implying that somehow youâre different from Tadashi. Implying that you want him to like you differently than the way he likes his platonic friend.Â
âNo, youâre different,â he says, taking the bait youâve laid in front of him. His heart pounds and he canât look at you. He thinks heâll kiss you if he does.Â
âAm I?âÂ
Kei can hear the smile in your voice. It makes what youâre saying sound honeyed and curved.Â
âYeah, you are.â
âHow so?âÂ
Kei finally raises his head to look at you. Youâre grinning, leaning towards him like youâre watching a show. He feels the way his nerves rise into his throat, pressing against the very back of his tongue. He doesnât know how to answer or what to say. Well, he does know what to say, he just doesnât think he can. Kei is good at thinking about emotions, but when it comes time to speak them outloud, it seems that heâs still got a padlock around his throat. So he does what any logical person would do.Â
Kei leans forward, pushing against his screaming nerves and trying to ignore the tremble in his hands, and kisses you. Itâs awkward and his teeth click against yours before his lips fully settle against your mouth. He feels the breath you draw in, like surprise and relief mixed together, and he finds that he does the same.Â
He can see the way your eyes flutter closed through his barely open ones and he realizes that your lips are so warm. He screws his eyes shut when you dip your head forward to move your lips against his. Yours are so warm and soft, like satin. A kiss has never felt like this to Kei before and he finds that he wants to catalog every single one of your reactions. Maybe thatâs what he could write in the notebook. Maybe he could write down every single thing that you do that leaves him winded and wanting more.Â
Neither of you reach for the other, but he can feel the knuckle of your pinky against his as you slowly kiss each other, tilting your heads side to side. Thereâs hunger within him, the need to take more than what heâs receiving and a greed he isnât quite familiar with, but thereâs also romance. Itâs like a spell thatâs yet to be broken, fed by the click of your mouths as they move together. Kei sighs, flooded with the relief of this kind of physical affection, of being honest with himself at how much he likes it. Kei loves the feel of your mouth. He loves the way your lips and tongue feel and he loves that theyâre all that he can feel right now.Â
The kiss lasts longer than Kei thought it would and by the time he pulls away, youâre both steadily panting and attempting to keep your breathing even. He wants to do it again. He wants it so badly that it makes his chest swell. He wants to do that with you forever, but he swallows down the desire. Itâs a temporary fix, but itâs enough for him to choke out what it is he wants to say next.Â
âI think Iâm in really hot water,â he squeaks.Â
âWhat do you mean?â You breathe out, the playfulness from a few moments earlier long behind you.Â
âI think I want you way more than I thought I did,â he admits quietly, the first out loud admittance of his feelings to you.Â
You smile a little before speaking. âI think itâs only hot water if the other person doesnât feel the same way.âÂ
Your face is still so close to his. âYeah?âÂ
It comes out a bit desperate, like he needs reassurance. Kei does. Heâs so afraid that he thinks he could die. Afraid of the spell breaking, afraid of losing whatever moment this is and being forced to return to his one-sided pining, afraid that you donât feel the same way.
Your face moves closer to him, breath trembling lightly. âYeah.âÂ
You kiss him again, pressing your lips against his lightly before parting them. Heâs so overwhelmed and so immediately lost in it. Kei feels the way your tongue teases the inside of his mouth and it makes him feel like a teenager again, swelling with desires and emotions that he canât name. You move your hand over his, placing it lightly on top of his, and he reacts by lacing your fingers together and pushing forward more.Â
Kei wants to touch you so badly, to reach up and hold your face, to touch your waist and your legs and your chest. He wants to do it all, to feel you right here under the cover of night, but he doesnât. Instead, he kisses you and stews in the desire, letting it swell in his chest as he listens to the clicking of your mouths. You kiss him so slowly, moving your mouth at a languid pace. It drives him crazy. He doesnât think heâll ever get enough of this.
âWe should go back inside, I think,â you break away, your bottom lip shiny with a sheen of spit. âThe others might think somethingâs up and Tanaka isnât exactly good with discretion.â
Kei automatically reaches up to swipe it with his thumb. He doesnât know where this affection comes from, where the possessive action found its origins, but he finds that he likes the way it feels to be able to do it in the first place.Â
âYeah, youâre probably right,â Kei responds, though he would have been happy to continue sitting out here with you, kissing you silly.Â
You stand first, dusting off the back of your legs and waiting for Kei to follow suit. When he does, you reach quickly for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before walking in front of him.Â
Kei is not sure how he should act when he goes inside. Heâs tense all over, desperate to pick up where the two of you left off, and unsure if his face betrays that thought.Â
âWhereâd you guys go?â Tadashi asks as Kei closes the door behind him.Â
In the time youâd both been gone, the living room has been transformed into something nearly unrecognizable. Empty beer cans are strewn about the tables and the blankets and pillows from the couches are now haphazardly laying around beside the couch or over peopleâs bodies. Then again, maybe the room always looked like this and he was just too busy thinking about how close you were to him.Â
Kei doesnât know what to say. Why had they gone outside in the first place? Heâs not even sure that he remembers.Â
âI wanted a cigarette and I made Kei come with me,â you answer evenly. âWhy? You jealous?âÂ
âOf inhaling second-hand smoke? No, thanks.â Tadashi laughs, but he tosses Kei a sideways glance. Tadashi knows him well enough to know that Kei wouldnât voluntarily stand outside with a smoker unless he was particularly fond of them.Â
âAw, man, I thought you quit?â Hinata pipes up, tilting his head.Â
âI did, hot stuff,â you respond, sitting down on the couch. âDonât worry. I wonât smoke anymore.âÂ
Hinata huffs and Kei takes the opportunity to sit down next to you.Â
His thigh is pressed against yours, warmth seeping through his pants and into his skin. Kei feels like he could explode. Youâre so close to him again, closer than before, and he canât stop replaying the kiss in his head. Heâs desperate for it, fidgety with his desire. He keeps thinking about the hot press of your mouth and the languid motion of your tongue. All he can imagine is the few points of contact between you both, mouth and hands, and how badly he wanted it to be more. He needs it.Â
You touch him a few times throughout the night and the tension is so palpable that Kei is convinced he can see it. Itâs like there is a rope pulled taut between the two of you. If he doesnât stick his ground, heâll go flying towards you, grabbing and touching and taking in the way heâs desperate to now.Â
After an hour, his friends begin to grow restless. Their faces are flushed with alcohol and the things theyâd been amusing themselves with are no longer enough stimulation.Â
âHey, weâre going out to the bars. Whoâs coming?â Hinata speaks up.Â
A chorus of agreement rings out, but the last thing Kei wants to do is go out.
âI think Iâll probably stay back and start cleaning,â he says somewhat disdainfully. âItâs a mess in here,â Kei tosses you a small glance. Itâs unintentional but heâs glad for it because Kei is hoping that youâll stay back with him, that you both can pick up where you left off.Â
âIâll stay and help too. Iâve got an early morning tomorrow anyway,â you smile and Hinata pouts.Â
âYou guys are so boring,â he protests. âLeave the mess for tomorrow and come out with us.âÂ
âIâll pass, pipsqueak,â Kei scoffs.Â
âFine, but donât complain to me when youâre full of regret tomorrow,â he points a finger at Kei and then moves it over to you. âAnd youâre too nice for your own good.âÂ
âDo you hear that?â You say, beginning to usher the group to the door. âI think itâs the sound of the bar and all that alcohol calling to you guys.âÂ
âYou guys are so full of shit-â Kageyama starts, speaking up for the first time in a while, but Kei just waves him out.Â
âYeah yeah, let the grown ups clean while you guys have fun. Weâll see you tomorrow.âÂ
The rope is so taut between you both that itâs unbearable and by the time the door closes, you are spinning around on your heel toward Kei.Â
âWeâre not cleaning, right?âÂ
Kei shakes his head and starts towards you. The tension breaks when his hands find your hips and he hungrily leans down to press his mouth against yours.Â
This kiss is different from the first, desperate and full of desire. Itâs fast and your mouths move together quickly as he starts to walk you back towards his bedroom, his hands eagerly roaming up and down your hips. Vaguely, he acknowledges that his glasses have been moved out of place, but he pays it no mind as you turn the knob to his bedroom door with your back to it.Â
Thereâs an urgency to his movements. Kei feels it in his chest, this desperate desire to be closer, to consume everything that youâve laid out in the palm of his hand. You stumble backwards into his room and Kei catches your shifted weight with a hand around your waist. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, feeling the warm skin on your jaw and neck. His fingers tremble where they touch you, half out of desperate need and half out of the nerves that threaten to spill from his mouth. His lips though, are occupied with yours, clicking together, all tongue and teeth.Â
Kei kisses sloppily down your jaw, his lips smearing across your cheek and dipping down below your ear. He sucks a trail there, unsure if heâs leaving marks, all the way down to your collarbone. Every part of you tastes better than heâd expected it to and with every push he delivers, you pull.Â
You make small sounds, little pants and groans that make Keiâs hair stand on end with wanting. Your voice, so familiar and fond to him, spills out in small, breath-like bursts that make Kei want to coax more out of you. Keiâs never been one to want this way, but right now, itâs all that he feels. So much tension and impulse that he feels like he can hardly control himself.Â
You reach blindly behind you for the bed and Kei guides you down, placing his hand on one side of you as you sit. Then, without disconnecting your lips, he guides you up toward the wall.Â
He feels the cool tips of your fingers at the hem of his shirt, pulling downward and then upward to get him to take it off. Kei obliges you, leaning back on his knees and pulling it off over the top of his head. You eye him for a moment, the two of you slowing down enough as the urgency settles into something heavy and lingering.Â
Kei leans forward again, one of his hands reaching for your hip. He slips his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding his long fingers up your stomach as he kisses you again. Youâre so soft and he can feel the way your chest heaves against his palm. His touch is feather light and he slides it up evenly until it reaches just below your breast. When you nod, Kei moves it up over your bra and he feels you shudder. Kei does the same, overwhelmed by your pliability.Â
He can feel the goosebumps that have raised on your skin, little pinpricks of skin that indicate that some part of you feels good. When Kei squeezes your breast, you gasp into his moan and he groans his response, letting you bite at his bottom lip.Â
He feels you suck at his lips and swipe your tongue along the ridge of his mouth. When he opens it to let you in, heâs overtaken by the warmth of the soft muscle. He groans, tilting his head down to kiss you deeper, letting the taste of you spread over his mouth. Itâs hot and your breath fans across his face.Â
Kei hands drift from your breasts along the sides of your body. He feels the heave of your breath there against your warm skin, his palms resting on your waist. You raise your knees, the sides of them pressing against Keiâs hips. He shifts downwards slowly, dragging his mouth along your skin, past the cloth of your shirt.Â
His hands make their way from your waist to your hips as he dips lower. Kei takes off his glasses, already fogged up and in the way. When he meets your eyes, you nod your permission and Kei slips between your legs, his flat palms moving to spread your thighs.Â
Youâre so warm and soft, so pliable in a way that Kei canât articulate. It makes his mouth water with his desperation and heâs grown hard against the bedspread beneath him.Â
âTouch me,â you breathe out.Â
Kei nods into your stomach, looping his fingers around our waistband, and pulls down your pants. Your panties come with it and itâs with a slight wave of regret that he realizes he wonât get to see the way you stick to them.Â
When he sees you, his heart leaps into his throat. His eagerness and his nerves catch up to him and he lets out a breath he hadnât realized heâd been holding. You shudder when the air hits your exposed cunt, an unintentional side effect of Keiâs nerves that has him grinding down against the bedspread.Â
He slides his palm to rest over your center. Itâs warm and sticky, wet beyond what Kei had imagined and he gingerly presses a finger between your folds. You gasp, mouth falling open above him. Then, he slides his finger into you to the first knuckle, curling up. Kei goes deeper on the second pump, curling his whole finger inside of you and feeling the way you tighten around him.Â
You arch your back up off the bed and Kei groans and rolls his eyes, resting his head on the inside of your exposed thigh. He curls his fingers in you, watching the way they coat with your pleasure. His eyebrows are knit together, like heâs asking whether you like how he touches you or not, and you seem to pick up on his insecurity, nodding your head before letting it tip back against Keiâs pillows.Â
Kei thinks your expression is incredible. Your eyebrows pull up in the center, pretty face twisted and mouth slightly open in an expression of undeniable pleasure. Keiâs stomach winds at the look of it and he ruts his hips against the mattress to quell the growing ache of need. His fingers, which curl at a slow and even pace inside of you, are warm with your enjoyment. It leaks between his knuckles, sliding down the back of his hand like a slow moving syrup. He wonders whether you have more to give and how you taste, his gaze slinking from your face to the place just above where his fingers disappear.Â
He lowers his mouth to you without thinking, curious and needing the taste of it. Sure enough, you have more to give. Your voice comes quickly, a small gasp that is stifled by the back of your hand when he sucks sharply on your clit. Your hips push forward against his hands and then you arch up off the mattress with a small cry. Kei wonders if youâve cum. He wonders if heâs sent you over the edge, but if he has, youâre taking all of it so well that he doesnât dare stop.Â
The taste of you spreads on his tongue, tangy and warm. You invade his senses violently, like you are gripping his throat. Kei holds his mouth to you, pressing the length of his cock into the mattress and moving his hips like he plans to fuck it.Â
He moves his free hand down your thigh and onto the inside of your leg. Your skin is so soft. Itâs so vulnerable, something easily pierced and bled. Keiâs pointer finger rubs gentle circles there, feeling the slight pull of the soft skin with his fingers, so thin that it almost feels like tissue paper. Heâs sure that with a little pressure, you would bruise.Â
The thought surprises him. He works his tongue across your clit and his fingers against that gummy spot inside of you, but his mind drifts to the softness of your inner thigh, the way it would be so easy to leave a spot that might hurt later when you press on it, remind you of exactly where he was. Then, Kei pinches you on the inside of your thigh and when you cry out, tightening around his fingers with a tapered moan, he pinches you again, harder this time.Â
You whimper slightly, like you like it. No, you sound like you love it and Kei finds himself holding back a choked moan as he tries not to cum prematurely. He pinches along the inside of your legs and around the back. Not too much. Only when he feels like it. Only when he wants to hear what kind of sounds youâll make.Â
âK-Kei wait, wait,â you pant, grabbing him by his tufts of blonde hair. It hurts. He doesnât think you mean to hurt him, but it doesnât matter. He likes it and he twitches in his pants.Â
âHuh?â He hums, detaching from your clit and slowing the movement of his fingers to a halt. Your legs shake around his handiwork. âYou okay?âÂ
âIâll cum if you keep going like that,â you breathe, screwing your eyes shut like youâre still on the edge. âDrag it out for me, yeah?âÂ
Kei furrows his eyebrows and sucks in a sharp breath.
âCum if you want to.â He tilts his head down to reattach his lips.Â
âNot yet,â you tug at his hair. âI like chasing it.âÂ
Kei stares at you, unblinking and awestruck. Your chest heaves and despite the pleasure on your face, you look uncomfortable as your orgasm slips away from you. Kei likes that look on your face and he finds himself growing greedy.Â
âCome here,â you coax him onto the mattress.Â
Kei watches as you slip your hands into the waistband of his jeans and pull them down, leaving him on his back with his tented boxers exposed. You crawl down his body and settle between his legs with your arms between his thighs. He shudders when you run your hands up them and he briefly sees his boxers jump.Â
You smile, pressing your mouth to him through his boxers. Kei canât stifle the groan that escapes him and heat floods his face when you raise your eyebrows in response.Â
âYou donât have to,â he says through gritted teeth as you slip the waistband of his boxers down.Â
âBut I want to,â you mumble, taking him in your hand and placing a kiss on the side of his dick.Â
Keiâs head falls back against the pillow and he swears under his breath when he feels the warmth of your mouth close around the tip of him. He jerks his head up to see, awestruck by the way your lips look around the head of his cock.Â
For some reason, Kei is already so sensitive. He feels everything, and when you swipe the tip of your tongue along his slit as you bob your head, he makes a noise he didnât think he could make. His fingers knot themselves in the bed sheets, white knuckled and trembling while you bob your head over him.Â
Your mouth is so warm and wet. Itâs a little messy, dripping down the length of him and onto his balls. Kei feels the warmth, the heat of you. He can still taste you on his tongue. Kei can still feel the stickiness left behind from your arousal on his mouth. The combination of you between his legs and the taste of you on his tongue is overwhelming.Â
Kei can feel his orgasm growing in his lower stomach, turning over until heâs bringing his long fingers to your head in an effort to steady himself. Thereâs nothing he can do but give in, watching you through damp eyes as you watch his expression.Â
Itâs embarrassing how quickly he cums. It doesnât take long and he teeters on the edge for a few moments before fully cresting over. Kei canât help the way he lifts his hips from the mattress, his voice caught in his throat as it hooks on a high pitched groan. His voice cracks and he feels the way his cum collects on your tongue and across the tip of his dick in your mouth.Â
âFuck,â he mutters, red faced and panting, âI didnât mean to- I didnât mean to finish so quickly, youâre just-âÂ
âItâs fine,â you come up, your eyes glassed over and lust-filled. âI like making you feel good.âÂ
âYeah but-âÂ
âNo buts,â you crawl over him and straddle his waist. Kei winces when your weight briefly nudges his cock. âThereâs still fun to be had. Can I kiss you?âÂ
He nods and you lean down to do as youâd asked. Your tongue moves slowly against his, less desperate this time, like youâre trying to work him down and back up again. You place your hands on his chest, settling your weight down so that your bare cunt is pressed against his sensitive cock. Kei thinks he might die.Â
He brings his hands to your waist, the fatigue creeping from his bones as he digs the pads of his fingers into your fleshy sides. You draw in a breath when he does and it makes Kein feel like heâs tipping sideways with arousal. Everything that you do, right down to the involuntary twitch of your hips or eyebrows, is sexy.Â
Kei turns you over, growing hard between your legs again, and gently pins you to the mattress. He kisses you for a moment longer, his lips working clumsily across yours before he pulls away to catch his breath and find his bearings.Â
You chase him with your mouth, tilting your head up to kiss him. Kei feels his chest swell with arousal and his cock strains almost painfully against his pants as he peers at you. Youâre so pretty. Everything about you is so pretty. On his chest, he can feel your fingers, splayed over his pecks, across his collarbone, and grazing the side of his neck. He leans closer, loving the pressure of your body and the desperation that pours from your skin.Â
Kei kisses you again. He kisses you the way he wanted to outside, dipping his tongue into your mouth with a desperation that he can taste. You take control back, reaching between the two of you, and Kei shifts himself upward instinctually to give you access to him. He feels your fingers fumble for him and thereâs a pause in which Kei doesnât know what to do. He wonders if this might be the part of him that you like. The awkward part, the one that doesnât know what to do. Keiâs thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of your hand wrapping around him and tugging upward.Â
His head drops and a low groan escapes his lips before he can even think to stop it. Keiâd almost forgotten his sensitivity, how desperately he wants to be touched, how overwhelming it feels. He shivers, looking down at where your hand wraps around him and pumps. When he looks back up, he finds that youâre looking at his face, your eyes glassed over and observant as you commit all of his expressions to memory.Â
âWhat?â he says, letting out a shuddering breath and the slight overstimulation.Â
âYour face is red,â you reach up with your free hand to run your thumb along his cheek.Â
Kei huffs, dropping his head and you fiddle with something between the two of you.
âNo,â you pick his chin up. âI like it. Itâs cute.âÂ
You tighten your grip around him and Kei feels his expression twist, a new rush of heat and desire flooding his belly as he realizes youâre sliding a condom onto him. Then, you guide the tip of him between your legs and he feels the wet press of your entrance against him.Â
âChrist,â he groans.Â
You smile slightly, shifting your hips a little and then placing your hands on his shoulders. Kei pushes forward slowly, his thighs twitching. It takes everything he has to keep from cumming again and every muscle in his body screams with a desire to let go.Â
Kei is so overwhelmed, partially because you feel so good, but also because there is some part of him that knows this feels different. Kei feels different about you, about being intimate with you, than he has with anyone else. Thereâs something alive in him, something with its own mind. Something greedy and vulnerable that stirs when your face is this close to him, when heâs buried all the way in you to the base of his cock. Emotional and sensitive, Kei feels it kick.Â
His first instinct is to run. Agreeing to let himself like you, to let himself do something about it, was not agreeing to letting something live inside of him. Keiâs first thought when he registers the difference is to cut it off and suffocate it so that it stops thumping against his chest. Heâd grown so used to the hollow feeling that the feeling of living emotion makes him nervous, it puts him on edge. But when he pulls out a few inches and fucks back into you, the anxiety dispels into insurmountable pleasure. A pleasure Kei canât describe, something fulfilling and whole.Â
He picks up his pace, letting himself do what he wants while you grip his shoulders with blunted nails. He likes the expression you wear. Truthfully, he likes all of your expressions, but this one is new. Pressure and pleasure, a newness to the feel of him inside of you that you canât quite keep from your eyes or lips. He kisses you as if he could taste it, slipping his tongue between your lips.Â
âI really like you,â you mumble against his mouth, breath hot as it fans across his cheeks.Â
Keiâs heart hammers and his hips stutter a little.Â
âMe too,â he chokes, trying to think about volleyball to stave off a second orgasm. All that comes to mind though, is you.Â
âAre you close again?â you breathe, voice laden with pleasure.Â
âI have been since we started,â Kei admits.Â
âCum then,â you say softly, reaching behind his head to pull his mouth back to yours. Kei likes the control you exhibit. He groans his approval.
âYou first,â he mutters.
Thereâs this possessive part of Kei that wants to watch you fall apart on him. He wants to see it, to watch you feel good too and commit it to memory so that he can always keep it. He thinks itâs a pride thing, something attached to his desire to succeed, to his reliability. Maybe though, itâs just because he thinks itâll look hot.Â
He reaches down and lifts one of your legs up by the back of your knee, pressing it down to give himself better access. You whine and Kei feels the way you clench down around him, your fingers knitting into the hair at the back of his neck. It hurts in a good way.Â
Kei slips his hand between you, rubbing circles on your clit to get you there faster. Frankly, he doesnât know how much longer he can last like this, staring down at your face while it twists with pleasure. Youâre so attractive to him. Everything about you is sexy. It makes Kei a little crazy.Â
He listens as your breathing quickens, as your voice wavers further. He feels the way your cunt begins to flutter faster, pulsing around him until you attempt to cry out and warn him. Then, you clamp down around him, arching your hips up off the mattress and pulling at his hair. Kei moves his head with you, relishing in the way you tug and scratch.Â
He builds up to his orgasm so fast that it hurts. Thereâs pressure and then the mounting feeling of nearing the top, and then the peak and crash. He cums so hard that it hurts, pushing his cock as far as it will go into you and feeling the warm spill of his cum in the condom. He moans a long, drawn out sound that you mimic, his fingers knitting into the pillow behind you and his head dropping so that his lips sit near your neck.
He lets out a shaky breath, letting himself sit inside of you for a moment. You turn his head towards yours and kiss him. Itâs gentle. A smooth and languid kiss that neither of you moves to deepen. Your lips move against each other and Kei closes his eyes to savor the taste.Â
You tap his shoulder and Kei rolls over onto the bed beside you, snapping the condom off with a small wince and tying it up in a quick motion. He places it in the trash bin beside the bed. When he turns over, youâre already moving to slip under his arm, resting your head on his chest.Â
Thereâs a passing moment of silence, not unlike the ones you both have fallen into before and you sigh lightly against his exposed chest. Kei follows suit, watching the way you move with his breath.Â
His skin is sticky against yours and Kei can vaguely register the smell of sweat in the room. He doesnât know how long itâs been since everyone left, nor does he know when theyâll be back, but he estimates that it wonât be more than an hour. Kei briefly wishes that he could pause time so that he can stay here with you, just like this.Â
âIâm not good at this kind of stuff,â Kei admits quietly.Â
âWhat stuff?â You ask, tracing your finger along the ridges of his lean abdomen.Â
âLiking people,â he says. âDating.âÂ
You give a small laugh. âNo offense, Kei, but I could tell that from the moment I met you.âÂ
âShit, seriously?âÂ
âDuh,â you breathe out. âItâs a little charming to me, though. I like that part of you.âÂ
So itâs true. You like the parts of Kei that heâs always worried were the worst of him.Â
âHuh,â he says. âCould you tell?âÂ
âThat you like me?â You ask, shifting your head to look at him. âYeah, it was obvious after we established that you didnât hate me. I always noticed you staring in the library.âÂ
âReally? I thought I was being a little slick with that,â Kei feels heat and color flood his face.Â
You let out a good-natured laugh. âPeople can always tell when someoneâs staring, Kei. Itâs like a sixth sense.âÂ
âGood to know. Hindsight is 20/20 and all.âÂ
Another bout of silence follows.Â
âYou can keep staring though,â you say, âif you want to. And calling.â
âOkay,â Kei responds, âI didnât really plan on stopping.âÂ
âHa, freaky,â you laugh a little and Kei reaches up to flick the side of your head. âWanna start going out?âÂ
Kei thinks about this for a moment. He thinks about being able to hold your hand, brush hair out of your face, watch movies on the couch and fix your breakfast the next morning. Then he thinks about not being able to do those things.Â
âI think Iâd be a little upset if we didnât,â he admits.Â
âGood,â you say. âMe too.âÂ
Heâs fighting off sleep. His eyelids are heavy and he tries to blink away the shroud of rest thatâs falling over him. Kei knows youâre fighting it too. Your breathing goes in and out of that familiar breathing that comes with sleep. Kei likes the way it sounds coming from you, restful and quiet.Â
âWe should⌠really get up to clean just a little,â he mumbles.Â
âFive more minutes,â you say softly, your voice heavy and laden with drowsiness.Â
âOkay,â he says.Â
Itâs just five more minutes. Kei fights sleep to hear you breathe like this a little longer.Â
â
Thereâs a period after which Kei doesnât know what to do with himself. Like the awkward start to a new hobby or passion, Kei finds himself enthralled with his budding relationship while simultaneously stumbling continuously along the way. Youâre gracious with him though, letting him make mistakes and fumble until he finds his footing.Â
Itâs all very awkward for him, very new. He finds that itâs easier to just do the nice things he wants to do for you than to agonize over it and slowly, he begins to grow comfortable in the relationship that took you both so long to begin.Â
At first, only Tadashi knew about you both. Kei thought that there was no point in hiding it from him, since you were over at the apartment all the time. Of course, Tadashi somehow already knew. Thatâs how it usually goes anyway, and Kei is relieved to find that his internal change did not trigger some global shift that would turn his life upside down. Everything is normal, save for the fact that Kei now tries to love without hindrance.Â
Kei discovers that heâs possessive. Thatâs a new trait of his that he didnât know belonged to him. Before you, before Kei had found something he so desperately wanted to keep, heâd been rather detached. Possessiveness was rare because Kei hardly ever got attached enough to want. Now though, he wants so badly that it hurts. You lean into it. Kei suspects that you like it when he wards off people who hit on you, when he pouts a little because he wants to be close to you, when he gets a little jealous. Kei doesnât really mind it either. After all, despite his possessiveness, he never feels insecure. The both of you make sure of that.Â
This sunny period with you, the one Kei worried would only last a week, drifts easily from one month into two and before he knows it, itâs been five. Kei had worried about that fundamental change. The one imperceivable to the human eye. Heâd worried that slowly, it would begin to spoil what is so good between the two of you.Â
âKei,â you snap him out of it, placing a hand on his shoulder, âyou okay?âÂ
He sets down his cup of tea, barely touched. âYeah, why wouldnât I be?âÂ
âDonât tell me youâre getting cold feet?â You give him a wry smile. âThis was your idea, after all.âÂ
âYeah, well it was a pretty shit idea actually,â he breathes, âMy parents arenât exactly easy.âÂ
âYou want to cancel?â You ask, your eyebrows pulling up in a clumsy attempt to hide your disappointment. Kei can see right through it.
âNo,â he shakes his head. âI want you to meet them. I just donât want you to meet them.âÂ
The truth of it is that Kei would like to cancel. In an ideal world, one where the sun rises on the opposite side of his bedroom window, heâd forget the whole thing and take you out to get dinner and see a movie. Things would be simpler that way, less uncomfortable for the both of you. But as uncomfortable as it is, Kei wants you to be a part of their lives too. Youâre too important to not introduce to his parents and Kei canât see it any other way, though heâd like to.Â
You snort. âWhat does that even mean?âÂ
Kei gives you a pointed and somewhat irritated look.Â
âOkay, sorry,â you raise your hands defensively and walk over to place them on his shoulders. âI know youâre worried, but I think itâs going to be okay. Iâm excited.âÂ
Kei huffs out a laugh, unable to vocalize his nerves in their totality. âExcited to meet my dysfunctional, divorced parents that kind of hate each other?âÂ
âYup. Iâm excited to meet the people who raised you.âÂ
Kei smiles a little. âYou should meet Akiteru, then,â Itâs an exaggeration, but for some reason the prospect of seeing both of his parents together has him feeling a little more bitter than usual, even if it was his idea.Â
You give him a little grin through narrowed eyes. Thereâs an understanding that passes from you to him, like youâre acknowledging that you havenât forgotten what heâd told you nearly six months ago. Kei feels the tension in his shoulders relax a little.Â
His parents are already at the restaurant when he arrives. Itâs a swanky Italian place. The kind you go to on birthdays or for anniversaries, where the pasta dishes are things like lobster mushroom ravioli or truffle oil fettucini in tiny portions. Kei made sure to book somewhere that his parents would have trouble making a scene in, not that they ever had much of a mind for decorum when they were married. Heâs surprised to find them chatting cordially when you both arrive.Â
âKei,â his mother stands from the table and crosses to give him a hug. He pats her back gently.
âHi Mom,â Kei responds and she gives him a small smile.Â
Keiâs dad adjusts the lapel of his suit, the same one heâs had for years, and reaches to give him a hug around one shoulder.Â
âGuys,â he inhales, âThis is my partner, _____.âÂ
You grin at Kei and then introduce yourself formally to his parents. Kei watches in awe as you blend right in, like youâve known them for many years. He sits down while trying to keep the nerves from his face.Â
âWeâre so happy to meet you,â his mother starts, âKeiâs never introduced us to any of his partners before.âÂ
âIâm the first?â You smile a little, raising an eyebrow at Kei as if to tease him.Â
âThere really havenât been that many to begin with,â Kei grumbles as if that somehow makes it better.Â
You laugh again and the ball of conversation begins rolling. His mother tells you how pretty you are and his father nods a quieter approval. They talk about his universityâs graduation ceremony, which they attended separately, as if they were together the entire time and then ask about your major, if you graduated with him, where you plan on going. You tell them what you want to do and that you want to go wherever Kei goes. He marvels at how smoothly the evening moves onward.
There are moments where the tension in his family becomes obvious. Little swells or comments that bring up a sour or shameful memory that cannot be ignored. Moments when the air thickens and it feels like the hammer is about to come down. It never does though. The tension, rather than snapping, simply fades away.Â
Heâd expected everything to blow up for some reason. Kei had expected that, like his childhood, the restaurant dishes would end up smashed on the floor. The glassware always ended up broken in the house, why shouldnât they be broken here to shatter the illusion of things being good? He braces himself for a ball that never drops.
It takes him until the ride home, after a successful dinner, to realize that the dishes havenât been smashed in years. Not since he was fourteen and his parents fought for custody. Not since his mother got remarried to her now husband almost 6 years ago and his father met his new wife. Kei wonders why he still feels like he lives in that house. The one his parents were at their worst in. Why canât he feel like he lives in the apartment he rents with Tadashi?Â
âI think that went well,â you say softly on the drive back.Â
Kei nods his agreement. âI think so too.âÂ
You donât bring up the fact that they didnât fight, or that they spoke about their new kids with each other as if they were old friends. You donât accuse Kei of being wrong, of being paranoid even though he most definitely was.Â
âIâm glad that I got to meet them,â you say. âYou look so much like your mom.âÂ
âReally?â Kei asks.Â
âYeah, youâve got her eyes and her nose,â you smile a little. âIt makes you two look similar.âÂ
âHuh,â he says. âI never really gave that much thought.âÂ
Kei turns the idea that he has his motherâs face over in his head. Heâd spent so much time dreading that he was like them on the inside, that he never paused to consider the outside. So much of his life has been spent worrying that heâs just like them. That he breaks the plates and lashes out and acts cruelly even when heâs trying to love. But he has his motherâs eyes and for some reason that unsettles him. Itâs like evidence.Â
âYou donât really act like them though,â you say as if on cue. âYouâre a little gentler.âÂ
âMe? Gentle?â Kei scoffs.Â
âYeah!â you say. âI mean, sure youâre prickly, but thereâs a goodness to you thatâs really obvious if you look.âÂ
Goodness. What a strange word to use to describe someone. Kei thinks that if thereâs any goodness in him, if thereâs anything that hasnât been tainted by his parentsâ sour personalities, itâs from Akiteru. Kei likes to believe that whatever good he got was from him. No matter how strained his relationship with him might be now, Kei is certain of that.Â
âThatâs a relief,â he admits in a flat tone.Â
After a long pause, he speaks again. âThanks.âÂ
âFor what?â You laugh.Â
âBearing with me⌠and with them,â he says. âCouldnât have been easy.âÂ
âIt was easy,â you say. âBecause I wanted to meet them. And I care about you.âÂ
Kei feels color rise to his cheeks. He turns to look in the sideview mirrors as he pulls the car into a parking spot in his apartment complexâs garage.Â
âYou say that stuff so easily,â he huffs.Â
âWhat? That I care about you?âÂ
âYeah.âÂ
âWell, I do,â you laugh a little.
Keiâs face grows hotter and he distracts himself by putting the car into park and taking the key out of the ignition.Â
âMe too,â he says quietly, waiting for you to catch up so that he can take your hand in his. âSorry that I donât say it a lot.âÂ
âNot to be rude,â you say, âbut even if you never said it at all, it would be obvious. Youâre kind of a sucker.âÂ
Kei supposes that thatâs true and he gives a small laugh before nudging your shoulder with his. The parking garage is humid and stuffy, but he holds your hand in it anyway.Â
â
Youâre half asleep in bed beside him and your breathing comes in even sweeps the way it does just before you fall asleep. Kei listens to it for a moment, admiring the sound of it and the way your chest feels expanding against his.Â
He thinks about dinner, about how good it feels to have introduced you. How real it makes this relationship feel despite the uneasiness surrounding his familial situation. Kei thinks about his parents. He thinks about their inability to be good for each other. He thinks about the worst of them, something heâs familiar with, before thinking about the best of them. Kei imagines the way their faces looked at dinner, talking about the children theyâre raising properly. Theyâre good people, they just made each other bad. Molecular shifts that changed them for the worst. The notebook theory in its most frightening form. But they were good too.Â
Kei thinks about loving you. His reluctance to do so originally isnât quite beyond him yet. Heâs unsure, in fact, if heâll ever really get past the fear of the fall, the fear of becoming what his parents made each other. But he also thinks about his promise to love you for real. Love is not something that Kei does. He knows now that it's something that happens to him, like it happened to his parents. They loved each other once, even if it made them so blind that they couldnât see just how bad it made them.Â
Kei still resents the fact that he was born to fix a marriage that never would have worked in the first place. He resents being a fix rather than a gift, but at the very least, his existence is proof that his parents cared enough about their family to try. Even if it was misguided, at least they tried even a little.Â
In the quiet after of an emotionally charged evening, loving you seems like an easier task for him now. Itâs not hard to love you. Whatâs hard, Kei thinks, is not hurting you. He carries a lot of baggage that, for a long while, felt like too much. Kei thinks he can manage if itâs for you. Heâll bear the brunt of it. Heâll put in the work.Â
Yes, Kei is his parentsâ son, but heâs also Tadashiâs friend, Akiteruâs brother, the person who loves you. He doesnât live in the house with a bin full of shards and no glassware anymore.Â
âAre you awake?â He whispers across the pillow.Â
âMhm,â you hum, pushing your cheek into his arm.
âLetâs move in together,â he says.Â
You tense against him and slowly attempt to blink away sleep. âAre you sure?âÂ
âYeah, Iâm sure,â he responds. âI want to live with you.âÂ
âOkay then,â you smile a little. âLetâs do it.âÂ
â
In the fall, when his lease with Tadashi ends and his friend gives him a tearful, yet somewhat silly goodbye, Kei moves into your new shared apartment. Two small rooms in a modest part of town, a shared kitchen and living room, one bathroom, a mismatch of furniture from both of your old places, and an empty fridge. The first night is spent eating take out on the floor with you in front of a TV with no proper stand. Kei has never been happier.Â
And in the morning, when the sun comes through the slats of his window, broken up into gentle dots by the orange-leaved trees outside, Kei rises slowly. He rises gently. Kei doesnât want to wake you, not before heâs made breakfast. He pads out to the kitchen, where boxes are strewn about, half unpacked, and grabs the little brown notebook from the box itâs been temporarily living in. In it, he writes a grocery list full of the things you like. Itâs a good enough reason, a good enough change.Â
The notebook theory.Â
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FaceTime
This might become something more later, but for now, I'll just give you guys this little morsel for consideration âĄ
&& a super big thanks to @meggsngrits & @medusashima for listening to me ramble about this. I âĽď¸ you guys!
âĽď¸ Dating Pro Hero Red Riot in secret because you work at the same agency where there are very strict rules about dating. ((Like how the co-owner of the agency isnât supposed to be in a relationship with one of the heroes he employsâŚ))
âĽď¸ It was just supposed to be a one night stand. But one night turned into multiple nights a week. Turned into drinks after work and dinner on days off.
âĽď¸ It's flirty looks across conference tables, gentle hands checking each other out after a fight, and sparring matches that typically end with your back pressed up against a tiled wall of a locker room shower.
âĽď¸ But still, none of your colleagues knew. Except Bakugou because that man figured out you two had a thing for each other before you knew yourself.
âĽď¸ The two of you got really good at hiding it. Of course, it helps that Kirishima is friendly with just about everyone, so no one really questions it when they catch him tossing you a couple extra smiles here and there. Or when he stops by to lean against the edge of your desk when he's got a mountain of paperwork he should be doing.
âĽď¸ But, today, you had patrol without him. Today you came back with cuts and bruises and a sour expression that makes his heart ache.
âĽď¸ He wants to hug you, hold you close, but he simply can't. Not here. So, he does the next best thing.
âĽď¸ "Wanna FaceTime later?"
âĽď¸ You don't get a call when you leave the office though. Instead, there's a knock on your door not ten minutes after you arrive home with Kirishima standing on the other side.
âĽď¸ "Still want FaceTime?" He asks with a sweet smile as he undies the tie around his neck, just to double-check with you. The second you nod your head, he's scooping you up and bringing you over to the sofa.
âĽď¸ Your pants are pulled down in the blink of an eye, and he's setting you down right on his face. His tongue quickly diving between your folds while your fingers tug on his hair.
âĽď¸ And he hasn't even taken his shoes off yet.
âĽď¸ His hands clamp down on your thighs, pulling you down making sure youâre not trying to do any of that hovering shit. He helps you grind against his tongue, and smirks when your little hand reaches back trying to find his cock.
âĽď¸ Gods, he loves FaceTime with you.
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sydney with stretch marks!!!!!!!!! peeking in on sydney in the changing room while swimsuit shopping and noticing the stripes along their backâ obtained during pubertyâs growth spurts
when PC & Syd get closer, thereâs a sense of intimacy in getting to know every inch of each otherâs bodies. (maybe they have stretch marks on their sides, hips, thighs, or ass, too? <3) tracing the lines with a soft finger, a simple kiss, making them squirm and blush as they look at you with warm amber eyes and a shy smile
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â The Library â
kazuha x gn! reader
prompt: - you and kazuha attend the same university, him being a english lit major and you being a person in stemđ your paths never crossed until that day in the libraryâŚ
*this is an smau so please do expect a lot of twitter posts and messages to read, there will be proper writing too but, it will mostly be that!!*
genre: modern! university au, bit of angst, lot of fluff, smau, romance
warning! this story involves mentions of self- neglect, possible eating disorders, insomnia, swearing, mentions of anxiety and overworking
tag for all chapters: #faela404~đđ°the library
ongoing! new chapter every wednesday <3
shall we beginâŚ
y/nâs friends | kazuhaâs friends
THE WINTER:
1) it was a mistake
2) unexpected
3) the library is closed
3.5) leave me alone
4) let the fight begin!
5) do you need help?
6) youâre late.
6.5) awkward
7) winter is coming
8) letâs hang out.
9) the holidays
THE SPRING:
10) move in
11) modern day r + j
12) whoâs she?
13) where for art thou, y/n?
14) focus!
15) why stand when you can sit
16) !message not delivered
17) the library.
18) your eyes
18.5) this term
THE SUMMER:
19) the date
20) heatstroke
21) kids itâs happening!
22) itâs over.
23) 2am
24) donât regret this, i wont.
25) the walk of shame
26) stay with me.
27) the beach episode
taglist- closed! {50/50}
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ă fem!crush x gn!reader ă
⥠imagine being in a play/musical with your crush where you both play eachother's love interest...
...and since you both play side characters with very little known about them in the actual play/musical, you take it upon yourselves to come up with backstories and traits for them
â [ c/n = crush's name ]
â [ c/ch = crush's character's name ]
â [ y/ch = your character's name ]
note : fem!crush - the character your crush plays is implied masc
"Okay so, they met through... who was it again?" C/n lets out a laugh as she looks at you questioningly, having completely forgot about a pretty integral part of the 'lore' you two had been coming up with for your characters.
You can't help but join her in her giggling, before you answer, "C/ch's best friend!" You watch with an amused expression as realisation splashes over her face.
You lean to rest your head on her shoulder, scooting closer on the stairs that you're both sat one.
"Wait- who do we think proposed?" She asks as you lift your head and squint your eyes in thought.
"Honestly? Y/ch, but C/ch totally tells most people that he did."
She lets out another laugh, "You're so right."
Your giggling session is interrupted by the director calling out for the cast to come back into the theatre, signalling the end of your brainstorming session.
C/n jumps up from where she sits, but before you get a chance to join her, she reaches out her hand to you, "My love?" she asks in her character accent.
Your heart lights up and your smile grows as you put on your own character's voice and answer, "Of course," before reaching for her hand.
You let her pull you up from where you sit, but not before surprising her by snaking your hand around to circle her waist, pulling her close to your side as you keep your character façade on.
You notice her brain stop for a moment and her eyes flicker anywhere but yours first, but the moment of shock is gone even faster than it came, and she grins at you, neither of you trying to contain your joy anymore.
"That is definitely something Y/ch would do."
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A/N: I like vore as a silly, goofy thing, but I also feel like it has a thematic potential to be an expression of intense desire and need for closeness, so I decided to be pretentious and write this short thing. Itâs from the POV of an undescribed monster pred. Enjoy uwu
ââ
I need, I need, I need.
Itâs the endless drumbeat that thrums through my bones, my tendons, my ligaments, my gut.
Itâs an instinctive need honed through millions of years, as intrinsic as the need for a mate, for water. Itâs a need I canât deny no matter how hard I try.
God, I want to taste the sweat of your body, want to curl you in the bed of my tongue, keep you safe between the bars of my teeth. (But please, you must know, most trust, must understand that I would never hurt you.)
I need you close, closer than close, away from all that may harm you or take you from me. Let me hold you within my body, nestled in the warmth of my guts, soothed by the rumblings of my natural processes.
And need to feel the weight of your presence within me, like the bead of a pearl held carefully within the maw of an oyster.
You must know this need is born from twin hungers.
Please, allow me âŚ
Just one taste.
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currently in the process of a very long eren x reader fic where reader will have crazy back story. like, it's very much a self-insert (but not too much bc i dont wanna expose my life to a crazy extent, and it's also still very fictional regardless) but the discourse about if y/n should have a back story or not is scaring me! like omg i really wanna finish this fic, it's so long there's so much plot, but will the specifcities throw some people off đ i obvi don't care abt notes or reblogs like that, but at the same time i'd feel a little defeated if nooooo one acknowledges it frl! (cuz yall also hate long ass fics)
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hey y'all, update time.
december really kicked my ass; i had family in and out of the hospital and had these awful headaches pretty much every day that made it really hard to think, let alone write. a shitty cherry-on-top to close out 2023.
but! everything cleared up around the holidays and i think we're finally back in business ( â˘Ě Ď â˘Ě )â§
i've managed to make some good progress for NWD despite everything, so we're back on track there.
i also wanted to do something for the badsansuary event, currently cooking something up for that, stay tuned for shenanigans đ
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A discord server myself and @macabrecravings made regarding our trilogy series about Julie Crawford and Sonny Williams. Feel free to join if you want. Weâll try and be active in the server and keep you guys updated about the stories.
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PROLOGUE.
âŠâ In the weeks following Charlieâs birthday, sheâs got a confrontation to make, one thatâll alter the course of her and her brotherâs lives for the remainder of them.
â rafe cameron x fem!oc
⊠0.609k words.
â jail visit, narcissistic parent, hints at death, cussing, anxiety.
⊠hey guys, so iâve been super excited about this for a minute now, and iâm finally able to work on it! i have big (painful) plans for this series and iâm hoping yâall stick with me through it. reminder that this chapter takes place 3 years before the canon starting date of the show!!
â HOME BY MIDNIGHT. | NEXT CHAPTER.
⊠BETA READ + EDITED BY @porcelainmind
THREE YEARS AGOâŚ
The doors to the visiting room swing open with a clank loud enough to make her cringe. She waits, hardly patient, for the man to come slinking down the corridor to his seat.
âYou cut your hair.â He says, a casual statement to undermine the fact that he was seeing his daughter for the first time in years. His eyes are heavier than she remembers, a few new scars adorning his cheekbones. Heâs missing a tooth and his voice is gruffer. Itâs as though heâd aged fifteen years.
âGot bored.â She shrugs, her jaw set and her eyes void of anything that would give him satisfaction. âHow are they treating you here?â
âLike a Mutt at the Pound,â he grimaces sarcastically, âHow are they treating you out there, Honey?â Itâs cute, the way heâs still trying to act like a parent after everything heâs done.
âLike a whore in Church,â she snides back. âLook, I donât have time for small-talk, alright, Dad?â
âI know,â he sends her a cold smile, âJust wanted to see how long youâd last. What do you need?â
âI need you to sign over your parental rights of Sam to me.â The manâs brows raise, and he leans back with crossed arms. Out of all the things that Michael Masonâs daughter couldâve asked him, this wasnât what he expected.
âReally?â He snorts, âNever pegged you for the Motherly type.â
A low blow, considering the events that occurred over the last three years.
âPiss off. Are you gonna sign or not?â
He blinks at her. Once. Twice. Three times, before leaning further back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head comfortably. âMaybe, whatâs in it for me?â
She scoffs, âI knew this shit was a waste of fucking time. See you in court, asshole.â She rises quickly, tugging her jacket on tighter before he speaks again, catching her off guard.
âIâll sign it, Charlotte.â
The girl, freshly eighteen, pauses and glares at him. It could be a trick, she knows, nothingâs ever what it seems with the man.
âIâm serious. No strings attached.â
âFine,â she sits back down and motions for the guard to set down the papers that sheâd initially brought in with her. âSign it then.â
Michael pauses for a moment, then sighs and signs it. When he looks up, itâs almost as though he seems saddened by the state of affairs, but sheâs sure sheâs imagined it. He gives a bittersweet smile, one most would take as genuine, but she knows better.
âWhat, no âThanks, Dad, youâre the bestâ?â
âI hope you rot in here, Mike,â she rolls her eyes and rises again, this time much slower than before.
âBye, Charlie.â
She doesnât bother to reply, instead keeping her gaze straight ahead as she makes her way back out of the Visitorâs Hall and down through the lobby until she reaches her car. Sam sits patiently in the front seat, headphones plugged into his ears as he blares rock from his IPod. The last thing his Mother ever gifted him.
He looks up at the sight of his sister, a nervous glint to his eyes, âHowâd it go?â
Charlie hands him the pages, her hands shaking as her stomach churns. Sheâd been anticipating this ten minute conversation for nearly a month and a half since she turned eighteen and was terrified of what might happen. âBetter than I thought.â
âHe signed?â Sam sounds excited, but Charlie canât miss the underlying grief in his tone.
âHe knew there wasnât any other choice.â
âRight.â
âYou ready for the first day of the rest of our lives?â
âReady as Iâll ever be, I guess.â
TAGLIST.
@blondedmuse @surprisenecromancy @bruiseology @porcelainmind
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The Inbetween (Tendou x Reader)
masterlist | ao3
Pairing:Â Tendou x Reader
Summary:Â You and Tendou have been best friends since before you can remember. You share everything with each other and over the years have fallen into a friendship with clear boundaries but intimate values. When you start to notice Tendou growing more distant, you begin to worry that heâs keeping more secrets than you thought.Â
"Tendou gets like this sometimes. He grows quiet for a few moments as if he is weighing something in his mind. You can see the inquisitive look in his eyes and every now and then, his bottom lip will bounce and it will tell you that heâs thinking about something. In these moments, youâre never quite sure what heâs thinking. Youâve never been able to tell and youâve reserved yourself to thinking that it is not meant for you or for anyone else."
Content Warnings:Â fem!reader (gender neutral pronouns but there is a line that references you as his girlfriend), it does include manga spoilers since this takes place after they graduate high school, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, angst in the middle, Â miscommunication, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), orgasm denial (just once), teasing, minor minor cockwarming (he lets it sit there for a little lol), there's no real mention of protection
Word Count:Â 25.8k (lol)
A/N:Â I decided not to break this fic up because I wrote it intending for it to be one piece. It ended up way longer than i thought it would be. I'm posting it all here, but I would def recommend reading it on ao3 if you prefer!!! i'm a little nervous about this one. i really struggled while i was writing it. i love him so bad tho... he's always a joy to write <333 hopefully i didn't miss too many typos. anyway, its finally here lol so i hope u enjoy <3
You think that there are periods of your life where growing pains become impossible to ignore. The change tends to hurt. Like rebreaking a bone to help it heal correctly. When youâre 8 and in bed, unable to sleep because your legs ache somewhere deep in your bones. When youâre 16 and you canât seem to ever feel like something really fits, like youâre not doing a good enough job at being good enough.Â
Sometimes, theyâre agonizing. The steady roll of dull pain that you canât quite pinpoint, sending you anxious and aching in a way you canât quite verbalize.Â
Sa-to-ri: U wanna get drunk tonight?Â
You: Not particularly.Â
Sa-to-ri: k
Tendou shows up at your apartment forty-five minutes later with two bottles of wine. He lets himself in, holding the both of them in one hand, his long fingers curled around the necks of the bottles. It looks assured but precarious and you watch as he shoves his keys back into his pocket, takes a bottle in each hand, and kicks your front door shut with a flat foot.Â
âThought I told you I didnât wanna drink tonight?â You call from the couch, craning your neck to face him.Â
Tendou is looking at his shoes as he slips them off, watching as he goes heel to toe and slides them past the curve of his foot. Then, he tilts his head up and looks at you with a lazy grin. Heâs at ease here, padding into your house.Â
He has a particular gait about him. When Tendou walks, he sways side to side as if the length of his limbs is too much to control and his head tends to follow. He leans one way and then the other, confident in his step but wobbling nonetheless. If you had to compare him to anything, it would be a more confident version of one of those floppy blue pillars that jerk back and forth at car sales on TV. Youâre not sure what theyâre called, but Tendouâs step reminds you of them.Â
âI know you well enough to know that youâre a liar, you borderline alcoholic, you.â He smiles, sitting down on the couch beside you with a grunt and passing you one of the bottles.Â
âNo glasses?â You quirk a brow.Â
âAbsolutely not.â He twists the lid of the wine bottle off and tilts the spout towards you. Tendou always buys cheap wine so that you never have to worry about uncorking it. âCheers.âÂ
You roll your eyes, twisting the lid off of your own bottle and clink the neck of it against his. It gives a high-pitched click when you do, the sound short and succinct with how full the bottles are.Â
âCheers.âÂ
âCan we watch Evangelion?â He asks almost immediately, leaning forward to reach for the remote in your hand.Â
âJesus, what on earth makes you want to get drunk and watch Evangelion?â You hold it away from his grabbing hand. âAre you insane?âÂ
Tendou chuckles, âI think it would be interesting.âÂ
âI think it sounds stupid. Youâre just asking for an identity crisis.â You roll your eyes, setting the remote down on the other side of you.Â
You bring the bottle of wine to your lips. Itâs a Moscato, overly sweet and the slightest bit fizzy. Tendou likes these kinds of wines. The ones that donât taste like alcohol at all. He watches as you sip it before bringing his own bottle to his lips, curling them around the spout of it and taking a long pull from the bottle.Â
Youâve known Tendou since you were 13 and heâs always been like this. He likes sweets, anything with enough sugar to make a normal person pull a face. He likes weird music, the kind that makes him the least eligible person to be in control of music on long car rides. He hates tomatoes but forces himself to eat them anyway because it âbuilds characterâ and he never fails to treat it like heâs suffering through some great trauma.
Tendou, for as long as youâve known him, has always been like a breath of fresh air after a long day inside. Either that or loud music emanating from a comically small car.Â
âHowâs your boyfriend?â He asks, taking another sip.Â
âDead.âÂ
âFor real?âÂ
âTo me,â you finish, rolling your head to the side and looking at him.Â
Tendou huffs, leaning further back into the seat. âNeed a shoulder to cry on?âÂ
âNo, he was a cunt.âÂ
âIâll drink to that,â he raises his bottle as if to salute someone far away and brings it to his mouth again. âHow long did this one last?âÂ
âA month,â you heave a sigh.Â
âNew record,â Tendou chuckles to himself.Â
âWhat is wrong with me?â You swallow a large sip, exhaling as you do. âItâs like- Itâs like Iâm just dicking around!âÂ
âWell, are you?âÂ
âNo!â You rub your palms into your eyes. âI mean, I find a guy, I go out with him, and then⌠I lose interest or he turns out to be a total tool.âÂ
âOr married,â Tendou adds, taking another sip.Â
âOr married,â You confirm, following suit.Â
âI knew you wanted to drink.â Tendou gives you a wry grin. The corners of his lips pull up pleasantly and his voice takes on a lower and more knowing tone.Â
âShush, itâs only âcause youâre doing it.âÂ
âPeer pressure really works wonders.âÂ
You smile, scoffing lightly as you pull the bottle from your lips. It pops when you do, pressure releasing from how youâd been sipping.
Tendou offers you a smile, the kind that youâre so familiar with that it aches. He rolls his head across his shoulders, letting it rest on the back of the couch cushions.Â
âMaybe you just havenât found the right person for you.â He says, half to himself as he lifts the bottle.Â
âMaybe.â You agree, âor maybe Iâm just eternally cursed. Maybe Iâve got a rotten bloodline.âÂ
His eyes slink across his lower waterline to look at you.Â
âI doubt that.â He laughs and you canât help but smile.Â
Tendou has a certain way about him. If you know him well enough, he is reassuring to the point of relaxation. He never fails to comfort you in moments of need, winding you down on days you feel particularly tight.Â
He seems like someone who knows everything. Tendou feels like heâs got it all figured out and when you talk to him he maintains a certain confident air that is pleasant to be around. Sometimes it feels like Tendou knows you better than you know yourself and youâre grateful that at least someone does. He maintains that particular aura about him and you think that it belongs to him like it does no other.Â
Tonight he seems particularly mellow, lounging comfortably on your couch. You eventually give in to Tendou, resigning yourself to watching Evangelion with him, and he seems content to just sit beside you and watch.Â
His arm is tossed over the back of the couch, the other nursing the half-empty bottle of wine. You follow the line of it with your eyes, lingering for a moment on the curve of his knuckles, flushed pink against the pale color of his skin.Â
You follow his fingers, admiring the ways his skin is pulled taut over them. Theyâre long like he is, spanning the entire top of the couch cushion short ways. His wrists are thinner, the bones of his fingers coming to connect nicely where his lower arm meets his hand. You admire the even quality of his skin, following the lines of lean muscle up to his shoulder. Muscle and sinew form a trail up his arm, tucking itself away under the sleeve of his sweatshirt where it hides until the fabric meets the delicate skin of his collarbones. You watch his neck, his pronounced Adamâs apple bobbing slightly when he swallows at particularly nerve-wracking scenes. Still, he keeps a slight smirk on his face. Itâs like heâs glad to just be here, eyes low-lidded as he peers at the TV.
By the top hem of his sweatshirt, you can see the beginnings of his collarbones and you know that beneath it, he is hiding an evenly toned chest. You can imagine the familiar dip and curve of his abdomen, his pale, almost sallow, skin stretched evenly over it. Tendou is all lean muscle. Heâs built tall and long and youâve seen the somewhat toned physique he hides beneath the thick cloth of the red sweatshirt. Still, you know that to the touch he is soft. Tendou has some give to him from the sweets he eats so regularly but, like the rest of him, you think it is beautiful.Â
You follow the trail to his neck where he has a few freckles, three to be exact. One sits above his collarbone, the other on the tendon that connects his neck to his head, and the third just below his ear, covered right now by his dark red hair which collects around his neck. Itâs as if the sun deliberately placed them there, dotting up the fine muscle as if it were Orionâs Belt glimmering across the winter and spring sky.Â
His hair is at his shoulders now, unruly and almost unmanageable on most mornings. At the moment, it sits delicately just above his shoulders, collecting in what looks like pools on either side of them. Normally, Tendou ties it up to keep it out of his face. Tonight, heâs keeping it down, letting the wavy tufts of dark hair hide the blushing nape of his neck from you, red from the wine.Â
Tendouâs face is long, you follow the trail his neck makes to his cheekbones. Theyâre high, complimenting his somewhat soft jaw nicely. His cheeks maintain a delicate pink tone, barely visible unless you look closer but aided tonight by the flush of wine. When heâs embarrassed, this quality shines red regardless. Tendou, in his more shy moments, lights up like a switchboard.Â
Just above his cheekbones, Tendou sports light under eye bags. They are partially from being tired, but you also know that they are owed simply to the quality of his face. Tendou has distinct upper eyelids. They crease heavily when his eyes are open and youâd almost describe them as somewhat hawk-like if it werenât for their round nature.Â
Tendou stays up late at night. His job as a bartender keeps him working until the early hours of the morning and you know from texts heâs sent you that he takes a few hours after to unwind before going to bed. Sometimes heâll play games, spurred on by Kenmaâs gaming channel, but he always loses interest in them after a few weeks. Tendou keeps his interests and hobbies short and sweet, though you donât think that diminishes their value to him. No, in fact, you think that it means that Satori has a lot of things that he loves. Still, this latest love of his has contributed to the dark under eyes he seems to sport around the clock.Â
Part of you knows thatâs just how he looks, but the other part thinks that if he went to bed earlier, that quality would lessen. Youâll never tell him that though. You quite like that quality of his. Itâs distinctive, as most of his features are.Â
Then, you shift your gaze down to his mouth. Tendou has a thin upper lip whichâwhen combined with his all-knowing eyesâmakes him look a little scary. His bottom lip, however, is full and pink. When heâs thinking, it moves slightly. It bounces as if Tendou is rehearsing what he wants to say, running through his thoughts at a mile a minute. You believe it to be endearing and Tendou, who has never been particularly vain, thinks that if you think so, it must be.Â
All of these things are things youâve come to know about Tendou since you met him. Youâre accustomed to his body language, comfortable (unlike so many others) with his gait and the way he moves. You think that there is only one other person in the world who is as comfortable with him as you are and that is Ushijima Wakatoshi, someone you both met in high school. He, like you, is someone that Tendou clicks with like a piece of a puzzle.Â
He talks to Wakatoshi every night on the phone. They talk about their lives, maybe about girls. Wakatoshi usually just listens though. What Tendou cannot say to you, he says to him and youâre not nosy enough to pry. Youâre positive that whatever you need to know, Tendou will tell. When you finally stand and go to the other room to get ready for bed, you can hear him through the thin wall, talking quietly into the phone so as to not disturb your nighttime routine.
You pad between your bedroom and the bathroom, occasionally passing close enough for Tendou to catch you in the corner of his eye. He raises his hand or his eyebrows when that happens, swiveling his head to acknowledge you as he leans back against the couch cushions, one arm thrown over the back and the other holding his phone to his ear.Â
The fan hums to life when you flip the light switch in the bathroom. Sometimes you wish theyâd be separate switches because when the apartment is quiet the noise is jarring and disorienting, but today the sound is just another addition to the symphony of noise in your home. It whirs softly as you put on a headband and run the sink, letting the water get warm before splashing it up onto your face.Â
You take your cleanser, pumping some of it into your hand, and slather it onto your skin in soft circles. The motion is familiar and you feel the way your shoulders relax a little as the cleanser turns white with foam against your skin. When you are ready to rinse, you dip your head down, cupping water in your hands and splashing it onto your face.Â
âYou always do that so messily,â Tendou chimes from beside you.Â
You jump, flinching to the side as you wipe the cleanser from your eyes quickly, âJesus, you scared me.âÂ
âSorry,â he chuckles, leaning against the doorway.Â
Tendou is lithe like a cat. Heâs long and slender, his body nearly dwarfing the doorway he stands in. His shoulder presses against the white wood and he crosses his arms pleasantly over his chest, hovering just outside of your space.Â
He watches with a content smile, eyes half closed as sleep starts to take over him. The corners of his mouth pull up curiously and his eyes follow the movements of your face as you gently rinse it with warm water. Occasionally, he will act like youâve flicked water on him, raising his shoulder lightly as if to shield himself from it, and you scowl in response.Â
âMove over,â he says as he steps around you and nudges your hip with his own.Â
Tendou slides in front of the sink beside you, grabbing one of your headbands and using it to push his hair back. It swishes when he does, revealing the rest of his forehead before he takes some water and wets his face. Then, he takes your cleanser and copies your previous movements, scrubbing his face lightly before dipping down and rinsing it. You watch, fighting the heat that bullies its way to your cheeks.Â
Heâs a lot cleaner at this than you are, cupping the water in his big hands and lowering his face to rinse it. His eyes flutter closed, lashes batting slightly before he pushes his fingers against his skin and then wipes downwards. A few stray drops of water roll down his forearms, following the path his lean muscles make until they drop onto your bathroom counter. For how lanky he is, the movement is strangely graceful and you watch with a tilted head as he repeats the process. It keeps the counters relatively dry and when heâs done, the only evidence of his having washed it at all are the few drops of water on the counter and the clean quality of his skin.Â
Tendou peers at you through the corner of his eye, smiling lightly as he stands to his full height and grabs his toothbrush from the holder. He keeps one here now. Given the amount of time he spends here, it only makes sense.Â
Sometimes you think that the intimacy the two of you share is too much. Sometimes it is difficult to reconcile that you could be this close to a person but Tendou is someone who begs closeness. No, he demands it. Tendou is as affectionate as he is adoring. Intimacy, be it platonic or romantic, becomes him and though you sometimes worry if things can continue like this, you quickly forget it in favor of simply being close.Â
To an outsider, Tendou has the feel of someone very far away. Youâve heard from acquaintances that he seems aloof and somewhat cocky, though you think that only the latter half is true. Tendou is particularly involved, however distanced he may seem. It comes with intimacy. He remembers almost every little thing about the people he loves. Should you visit the same restaurant twice, Tendou remembers what you ordered and if you enjoyed it. Should you be deciding between one shirt or the other, Tendou will recall what you already own and suggest the best possible option. Heâs attentive like that.Â
âThis face wash is new,â he comments, running a knuckle along the side of his cheek as if to feel how effective it is.Â
âYeah, my skin got used to the other,â you shrug your shoulders, popping your toothbrush into your mouth.Â
âWhat does that even mean?â He laughs. Tendouâs voice is warbled through his toothpaste. It sounds thick, the tenor ring of it dropping to a baritone hum through the thick white foam.Â
âDunno,â you shrug, âpretty sure itâs just a wives tale or something but I still believe it.âÂ
Tendou laughs again, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he leans forward and spits into the sink. You follow suit, waiting for him to pick his head up and continue brushing. The toothbrush looks smaller than usual in his hand, his long fingers curled around it as he guides it over his teeth, spitting for a second time and then reaching for your mouthwash.Â
âYou sleeping over?â You ask, taking the bottle when he hands it to you.Â
Tendou nods his response, swishing the liquid back and forth in his mouth. Then he leans forward and the smell of winter mint hits your nose. Honestly, you donât much like the taste or smell of it, but youâve found that it keeps your mouth feeling fresh for the longest. Besides, you donât mind it as much when itâs on Tendou. For some reason, the smell suits him.Â
Youâre relieved to find the reprieve of your bed. It hasnât been a particularly busy day, but the wine is getting to your head. It makes you sleepy and your duvet cover feels far more comfortable than usual.Â
Tendou usually sleeps on the bed with you. Itâs another facet of the intimacy you share with him. Your bed is large enough to fit the both of you comfortably with a pillow between you, though it almost never stays there the entire night. Both you and Tendou tend to toss around in your sleep and more than once have you woken up with either yours or his body splayed across the other.Â
Still, youâre only like this when neither of you is in a relationship. Your friendship has always maintained very clear boundaries. There are unspoken dos and donâts that accompany the closeness of your friendship. If either of you is dating someone, you wordlessly agree that Tendou sleeps on the couch. Itâs a respect thing for both of your sakes, as well as the sakes of your partners.Â
âAre you bummed about your breakup?â Tendou asks, facing the ceiling. Heâs no doubt watching the fan spin in circles in the dark. You know because youâre doing the same.Â
âNot really,â you sigh, âI mean, this might be shitty to say but I really wasnât all that attached.âÂ
Tendou shakes his head against the pillow, lacing his fingers together over his chest as he lets out a deep exhale. âNah, itâs not shitty. Thatâs natural.âÂ
âI guess.âÂ
âLet me know if you do get sad about it, kay?â He says, tilting his head sideways to look at you.Â
âYouâll be the first to know.â
You smile lightly at him and Tendou hums his satisfaction. He rolls over in bed with a soft goodnight before the room falls silent. You listen to the sound of his breathing and when it finally comes to an even pace, you smile. Sometimes Tendou struggles to sleep but tonight is not one of those nights.Â
You drift off after you are certain that heâs asleep, lamenting to yourself about the potential loss of his characteristic under eyes. Man, Tendou would really rip you a new one for thinking that.Â
â
âI like your hair like this,â you comment, reaching up to flip a piece that sits across his cheek.Â
Tendou turns to you, watching the way your fingers play with the soft end of it before giving a small laugh and a smile.
âYeah? I feel like itâs too long,â he hums, looking at you and then to the coffee maker as it hums from its place on the counter. âThink mâgonna cut it soon.âÂ
âNah, donât. It suits you. Kinda devil-may-care, ya know?â
Tendouâs hair is too long by normal standards. It comes down just below his shoulders, falling in thickly layered wisps that frame his face and make it look delicate. Somehow, having his hair around his face softens his features. It gives him a more gentle, off-beat look.Â
âOh? If it makes me look so cool then maybe I wonât,â he glances at you through the corner of his eye, smiling a cat-like smile.Â
âI wouldnât go that far,â you snort, bumping him out of the way as soon as he takes his coffee from the coffee maker.Â
Tendou feigns an offended look before leaning against the counter beside him. He looks sleepy, still somewhat tired as he raises his mug to his lips and loudly sips his coffee. Itâs always too hot when he takes the first sip but he does every time nonetheless. Tendou says it tastes better that way.Â
âBy the way,â he starts, pulling the mug to his chest and partially resting it in the dip in his stomach, âI gotta leave right after I finish this.âÂ
âWork?âÂ
Behind you, Tendou shifts a little and furrows his brows. âNah, got some errands to take care of.âÂ
ââKay,â you turn to him, leaning against the counter opposite him.Â
Despite Tendouâs affinity for skinship and attention, he is surprisingly independent.Â
Thatâs something you admire about him. Tendouâs actions are sure and calculated and heâs comfortable going off and doing his own thing more often than not. Sure, heâll invite you with him, but should you opt not to go, Tendou doesnât let it stop him. Heâs fiercely independent and it balances out well in your friendship.
He doesnât really say anything about where heâs going and you figure that he doesnât have to. Heâll go off and do his own thing and you will go do yours.Â
You and Tendou are quite like-minded, as is Wakatoshi. Perhaps thatâs why you all get along so well. When you interact with people, they tend to understand the three of you as independent beings who just so happen to choose to be around the other two. Youâve heard from others that looking at the three of you is like looking at a gaggle of oddities that somehow found themselves magnetic to only each other. Since Wakatoshi moved away though, it has just been you and Tendou and youâre content to be perceived as an odd pair.Â
The living room is littered with evidence of your evening with him and you peer out at it from the kitchen, the sunlight from your curtains filtering in and casting a warm glow over the light-colored wood. The more than half-empty bottles of wine sit on the coffee table, their lids placed randomly on the countertop from when youâd tossed them down after opening them. The bottles catch the light from the small glass patio door and the white Moscato inside glimmers in the morning glow.Â
When Tendou leaves, he grabs his keys from your kitchen table. They jingle in his grasp and he shakes them to get your attention.Â
âIâm leaving now!â He calls even though youâre only a few feet away.Â
âHave the day you deserve!â You laugh.Â
Tendou swings your apartment door open, his legs leading the way as he keeps his head around the corner so that he can look at you. You watch as he cracks a smile that spreads from one side of his face to the other, upper lip curling.Â
âSour old bat.âÂ
âIâm only 24!â You protest as he chuckles and shuts the door behind him.Â
You walk to the door, locking it behind him and shaking your head lightly. Briefly, you think about what he might be doing. It could be groceries, though he usually brings you with him, or maybe he needs to service his shitty old car. He never uses it which means that when he does it breaks down easily, but he keeps fixing it nonetheless. Tendou canât bear to part with the characteristic hunk of junk.Â
Tendou works as a bartender. He stands behind the counter in a black dress shirt and black slacks, fixing customers' drinks before pressuring them into buying more. Heâs good at selling things because Tendou is a notoriously difficult person to say no to, whether you know him or not. Sometimes youâll go in and see him, sliding into a seat at the bar and waiting for him to notice youâre there. You usually donât even make it to the counter before he spots you, giving you an easy smile and tilting his head to the side.Â
You suspect that he is only working to make ends meet while he decides what he really wants to do. You always figured it would be volleyball given his gift for it but he told you in the third year of high school that heâd be quitting. It had never been something he was particularly set on doing and though he enjoys the sport, he thought the constant rigor of its training to be tiresome. You understand to a degree. It is very like Tendou to do things only because he wants to. Even Wakatoshi accepted it after a little while, thoughâin a fashion that is much like Ushijimaâhe still pushed for Tendou to further his gift with the sport. It was to no avail though, thatâs just the way Satori is.Â
Still, youâre not sure if there is something in particular that Tendou wants to do. He doesnât talk much about the future and lately whenever you ask, he waves the question off like he canât be bothered to think about it.Â
He has a plethora of interests and for now, his job suits him. He spends his time talking to people and though he works late into the night, you think that he enjoys the time he gets in the hours after his shift. Besides, during the day it means that Satori gets to bake. Itâs an odd hobby for him but he does it regularly enough that it has started to make sense, though youâre not sure if it is a fleeting hobby or one that will stick. Tendou likes to play around with flavor. His eye for new combinations is admirable and itâs not a rare occurrence for you to go over to his place and immediately be fed a new recipe heâs been testing out.Â
He is, in general, a hard person to pin down but once you do, youâve got him memorized for life. Itâs not unusual for you to be able to guess what heâs doing, though sometimes he will surprise you and be doing something entirely different. Still, youâre confident enough in what you know about him to know that once he does choose, it will be good for him. Tendou is someone who begets a good and honest future.Â
You spend the day tidying around your apartment. Youâve got no particular plans today and with your recent breakup, youâve no one to really make plans with. In high school, when Tendou was busy without you, youâd often sit with Wakatoshi and watch him practice. Youâd listen to the sounds of the ball hitting his palm and then the slap of them on the smooth linoleum of the gym floor. That, or youâd spend your time with the other people you met with the both of them at Nationals, goofing off on the phone while you waited for Tendou to wrap up whatever it was heâs doing and walk home with you.
Youâve been to see them at nationals every year that the two of them have gone. In your third year, Tendou and Wakatoshi did not attend the tournament as players nor spectators, but the three of you sat in Wakatoshiâs room and watched the games together. You recall watching Karasuno fight their way through the ranks until they tasted a bitter loss once the promising first year, Hinata Shoyo, fell ill. Tendou had chided early on into the tournament that he was pushing himself past his limit and Wakatoshi agreed but you didnât have the eye to see it until he had collapsed on his hands and knees on the court. Still, the three of you sat shoulder to shoulder in front of Wakatoshiâs computer screen, knuckles tight against your thighs.Â
Sa-to-ri: shall we grub tonight?Â
Your phone lights up sometime around 3 pm and you open it to see Tendouâs distinct contact name light up across the screen.Â
You: u miss me? lol
Sa-to-ri: nah
You: whatâs on the menu?Â
Sa-to-ri: ramen
You: then yeah okay
Tendou has one particular ramen shop that he likes to frequent with you. Itâs a bit of a tradition and when you both go there, it is either in work uniforms that make you look silly or house clothes so comfortable they could hardly be considered outfits at all.Â
Some nights, you both trudge into the shop, you in the remnants of your work uniform and Tendou fully dressed in his, ready to attend his shift once you finish eating. Tendou wears his black slacks but rolls them to the knees and his black dress shirt is untucked in the front. He looks silly, but you know from visiting him that he always fixes it before he clocks in. You usually wear something business casual to suit your desk job, dress pants and a white shirt of sorts. On other nights, you both will come in wearing whatever it is you were wearing around the house.Â
The shop is a few blocks from his place and if you werenât looking for it, you would miss it. It is tucked behind two brightly lit shops in a back alley. Still, when youâre hungry for a particularly good bowl of ramen, you can smell it from down the block. The aroma of garlic and miso wafts through the streets from the alley it sits in and both you and Tendou find that you would know it by smell alone. It beckons to you both in a homely manner.Â
âYouâre so late,â Tendou comments as he meets you at the bottom of his stairwell.Â
âWere you tracking me?â You furrow your eyebrows. You hadnât agreed to meet him outside his place, so to see his lanky figure descending the outdoor steps is a bit of a shock. Still, you wouldnât put it past him to check your location for where you are. In fact, you suspect he does it often and for fun. You donât mind though. After all, you do the same to him.Â
âYeah,â he shrugs, putting his hands in the pockets of his sweats. Tendou leans forward, shifting his weight onto his hips and letting his shoulders droop.Â
âEugh, creepy,â you shiver slightly and smile at him.Â
Tendou tilts his head to the side and gives you an affectionate grin. It spreads across his face and his eyes narrow in a familiar way. For a moment, you think he is about to say something that makes you want to cross one of your well-defined boundaries but instead, he comes out with, âif you were on time, I wouldnât have to.âÂ
You shove him to the side plainly and turn to stride down the sidewalk before you can watch him wobble back and forth like a card house. Your heart hammers lightly in your chest. This happens sometimes. You find yourself getting tripped up on the familiarity of his expressions and the way his smile curls like dry paper. Then, you hear the sound of his sneakers against the floor as he jogs to catch up with you in the direction of the restaurant.Â
âWooaaahhh, so hostile tonight, huh? What happened to my nice BFF from this morning?â He leans forward as he walks so that heâs in your eye line, trying to catch your avoidant gaze as you suppress a smile.Â
âThey remembered that youâre an irritating little shit,â you huff, pretending to be mad.Â
âHarsh.âÂ
The two of you walk the short distance to the restaurant in near silence. Itâs nearing 9 pm and the streets have gone dark, illuminated only by the streetlights and sign shops that stay on through the evening. Their electric glow casts the sidewalk pavement in artificial blues and yellows, elongating your shadows until they dip into the street where cars and cyclists zip by on their way home. You watch people bustle through the street, their lively chatter creating a city soundscape that youâre familiar with. Groups of men in business suits walk into nearby restaurants and bars, finally off the clock for the night but not quite ready to return home. Girls wearing colorful spring clothes move in gaggles as they head into a new and trendy spot that recently popped up.Â
Some of these girls stare at Tendou as he passes. They watch the lazy nature of his eyes and the way he hunches over himself slightly. They marvel at his height and the cool exterior he wears as he looks somewhere past them at the buildings lining the somewhat busy street. These girls giggle into their mouths when he passes because, for every person who has ever called him creepy, there are an equal number of people who call him handsome. They glance behind them as they walk, asking each other if you are his girlfriend to which you chuckle internally. Tendou pretends not to notice, though you know from the way that he is careful not to look at them that he does.Â
Every now and then when this happens, Tendouâs gaze will slink over to look at you. You can feel the way he watches your expression, his gaze fixed on you through the corners of his eyes. Sometimes you will look back at him and raise your eyebrows and heâll shake his head. Other times, you will keep staring straight ahead just to see how long he will look at you for. Youâve learned that it will be until he needs to look ahead for fear of running into someone.Â
When you reach the door of the small ramen shop, which consists of a blue curtain with kanji lettering, Tendou holds it to the side for you with his forearm. He reaches ahead of himself and puts it against the doorframe, pinning it against the wood frame to keep the cloth out of your way before ducking his head to follow you in. When you look behind you, Tendou is straightening himself up again to his full height.Â
The chef inside calls a welcome to you before he asks how youâre doing. He knows you both well by now and whenever you enter, it seems that heâs pleased to see you. Heâs an older man with heavy wrinkles beside his eyes and between his eyebrows. Heâs expressive and the lines of age on his face demonstrate that very clearly. The chef has sharp features that soften considerably when he smiles and a low, gruff voice that seems to somehow match the interior decoration of his hole-in-the-wall shop.Â
âYou together yet?â He leans onto the counter after asking which particular bowl of ramen youâd like.Â
The chef is an old man and far too cheeky for his own good. Every time you come in, he never fails to ask if youâre dating each other yet. Through a tenacious grin, he poses the question you both have been asked countless times over. Tendouâs response is different every time.Â
âOh yeah, weâre so in love now.â You take the liberty of responding and Tendou leans his cheek onto his hand and raises his eyebrows at you.Â
âYeah?â He questions, the fat of his cheek smushing his lips into a slight pout.Â
âNo.â You turn to the chef and shake your head. âItâs not gonna happen.âÂ
The chef clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a small laugh and Tendou sits up and drums his fingers on the table as he leans back in a stretch.Â
âAw, never?â He teases.Â
You nod at him, exaggerating the movement.Â
Tendou closes his eyes and laughs, his fingers still drumming against the surface of the table before he reaches a resting position. You hear him mumble bummer as you look away and when you look back at him, you find that he is staring blankly at the drink menu in front of him. His expression is unreadable.Â
Tendou gets like this sometimes. He grows quiet for a few moments as if he is weighing something in his mind. You can see the inquisitive look in his eyes and every now and then, his bottom lip will bounce and it will tell you that heâs thinking about something. In these moments, youâre never quite sure what heâs thinking. Youâve never been able to tell and youâve reserved yourself to thinking that it is not meant for you or for anyone else.Â
Then, just as quickly as he falls into the slight moment of silence, he pulls himself out in his same usual manner. Tonight, he remarks on how hungry he is and how he doesnât want to work tomorrow night. Then, heâll let you talk until youâve nothing left to say. Whereas Tendou does most of the talking with Wakatoshi, you do most of the talking with Tendou. You can appreciate the way he just wants to listen, his eyes trained sleepily on your face as he listens to you chatter on about something mundane. He knows you would and have done the same for him and you imagine that he feels the same about listening to you talk that you do listening to him.Â
You both slurp at your noodles through idle conversation. He talks about work and you converse about what it is that you want to do next. Sometimes, in moments like these where you are both discussing your precarious futures, it feels like youâre in your third year again getting food after evening practice. The only difference now is that Wakatoshi is not with you and you are no longer 17. Instead, both you and Tendou are 24 and in the inbetween of life, floating between present and future in a perpetual cycle of uncertainty. Somehow, the only thing that seems to quell it is the familiar presence of one another. The small ramen shop, with its sounds of boiling water and conversation, grows smaller still.Â
â
Tendou is weird. Heâs always been weird. He somehow manages to seem like he knows everything. He has wide, unsettling eyes that look like they have x-ray vision. He can guess what just about any of his friends are doing at any given moment and heâs open about it. All of it is weird. Itâs not as if heâs been particularly normal up until now because there is truly nothing normal about Tendou and you like him that way but recently⌠heâs been weirder.Â
You canât exactly pin what could be off because he hasnât done anything in particular. He still texts you to hang out, he still wears that familiar smile that you adore, he is still as attentive as usual, but heâs weird. Something is weird.Â
You imagine that what youâre sensing is a radar you have only for Tendou. The feeling comes to you as more of a sixth sense rather than anything based on evidence. You know him like the back of your hand. Youâre likely to notice even the smallest new detail. Thatâs how it is with Tendou. Hand in hand with the particular closeness you share, is the ability to tell when heâs off.
Tendou lately has been spending more time on his phone. He stares and clicks it on and off like heâs waiting for something. The screen will occasionally light up his features before he clicks it off again upon seeing nothing. Occasionally he will swipe his phone open and check whatever it is heâs waiting on directly, though you canât tell if itâs news or a conversation. You watch the way he holds the sleek rectangle in his long fingers, drumming them against the smooth side of it and waiting for it to vibrate in his grasp. More often than usual, while he drums his fingers across the back of his phone, he will wear that blank look and stare into space, thinking about something youâre not privy to.Â
The thought pops into your mind that it could be a girl, though youâre not sure thatâs the case. If it were a girl, you think Tendou would tell you and if he didnât⌠well, that thought makes you more uncomfortable than youâd like to admit for reasons you canât quite pinpoint. Tendou is his own person, as are you, but if there is one thing you pride yourselves on it is the way you share openly with each other. You inhale, letting your gaze slink from where he fiddles with his phone to the television screen. You wonât dwell on it. Youâre not nosy enough to dwell.Â
The feeling isnât particularly uneasy and any anxiety that may have manifested while you were considering Tendouâs predicament quickly melts away once Tendou begins talking to you. You find yourself at ease while he chats, telling you that his job wants him to pick up more hours but heâs not sure if he wants to. Itâs so boring, but itâs not. This topic is such a mundane one but you feel that familiar fondness bloom through you as he speaks. Nothing seems boring when youâre with him.
Then, the phone in his hand begins to vibrate. It hums to life in his somewhat limp grip and Tendou, in one smooth and slow motion, checks who exactly it is. Thereâs no rush to it. In fact, Tendou finishes his sentence before shifting his eyes down to look as he flips the screen up to face him but you can tell that heâs eager. He tilts his head, reading the words across the screen as the jingle of his ringtone plays softly from the muffled speakers. Tendou dropped his phone in water once and as a result, his ringtone sounds like it is playing through glass. His expression shifts from one of barely readable anxiety, to disappointment, to happiness.
His gaze slinks over to you and he gives you a lopsided and lazy grin.
âItâs Wakatoshi.â
âYeah?â You peer over his thumb, looking at the familiar name across the screen, âcan I say hi?âÂ
âDuh,â he sticks his tongue out like youâve said something stupid before answering the call, âWa-ka-to-shi! Iâve got _____ here,â he holds the phone out to your mouth, âsay hello!âÂ
âHi Wakatoshi.â You speak and you can hear the gruff sound of his acknowledgement before Ushijimaâs rich baritone spills through the speaker.Â
âHello,â he says your name, even across his tongue, âitâs been a while since we last spoke.âÂ
âYeah, well, you never call!â You fake a pout and youâre certain Ushijima can hear it through the phone.Â
Ushijima gives a soft exhale, âI could say the same about you.âÂ
You roll your eyes even though he canât see it and Tendou fakes being hurt on your friendâs behalf.Â
âBut donât worry,â he starts, âIâll be back in Japan in a few weeks.âÂ
âNo way! Really?â You feel the excitement bubble in your chest before it shows on your face and Tendou tilts his head at your expression. You watch the way his eyes slink across your features, soaking in your joy through his skin like the sun until he is kissed with it.Â
âYeah, visiting family,â the response is short, much like the way Ushijima usually talks.Â
âMan, the off season works wonders,â Tendou hums from beside you, wiggling a little in his seat.Â
âYou know thereâs no off season, Tendou. We train year round,â Wakatoshi states.Â
âMinor details,â he says, waving his wrist back and forth as if he were erasing the sound of the words from the air around him.Â
Tendou gives you a wry grin before pulling the phone back and switching off speaker mode. Vaguely you can hear the sound of Ushijima giving a brief apology about not calling you, but youâre not actually mad enough to warrant it. In fact, youâre elated that heâs coming to visit. You and Wakatoshi are very good at clicking right back into place, so worrying over why he doesnât call isnât exactly in the front of your mind. Besides, you figure he still thinks about you because every morning you receive an influx of tiktoks and new articles that heâs sent you through the night. So thoughtful, that one.Â
âSo whatâs up?â Tendou speaks, placing the phone against his ear and pinching it there with his shoulder.Â
He reaches in front of him, unscrewing the top of his water bottle and taking a sip as he listens somewhat intently to what Ushijima has to say. Tendou leans back, extending his arm over the back of his couch and leaning deeply into the cushions with a sigh and mumble of confirmation.Â
He looks like heâs at his leisure here. The lean muscle of his neck is relaxed and the tilt of his head makes him look like heâs scheming something. A small smile plays at the corners of his lips as he gazes thoughtlessly at the table in front of him. It tugs the ends of his mouth upwards and you recognize it as one that is entirely subconscious. Satori doesnât even realize heâs doing it and the thought sends a fond flood of warmth through your chest, honeyed and heavy.Â
You stand, exhaling deeply when you do. Itâs best to leave them to their chats. Satori and Wakatoshiâs time together is limited, so when the other calls each night, it fulfills a certain (and private) routine which you know they both value.Â
Tendouâs eyes slink over to you as you move. His eyebrow quirks up as he pinches the phone between his ear and shoulder, pulling the bottom of his phone from his mouth as if heâs ready to respond to whatever you say. You opt to mouth at him, as you can still hear the baritone hum of Ushijimaâs voice on the other end of the line.
âIâm gonna go take a shower,â You point behind you to his bathroom.Â
Tendou makes the OK symbol with his hand before he smiles at you. Then, he turns his attention back to his phone and you can hear him start the sentence âitâs going okayâ. You watch as the smile falls and his face returns to a somewhat pointed resting position. He glances sideways at you one more time, his eyes tracking over your figure as you eavesdrop in a somewhat obvious way. All he offers is the slight upturn of his lips, but you canât shake the eerie feeling the smile gives you. It looks like itâs made out of glass and as you step away, you hear the way his voice drops to a hushed whisper before it fades entirely through the thick wood of his bathroom door.
You start the shower, turning the knob in Satoriâs bathroom. Itâs familiar here and you donât need to pause to think about which way is hot and which way is cold. Coming to his home is like walking into your own and part of your relishes in getting to use his shampoo and conditioner.Â
It smells like him, somewhat rich and musky, with a sharp and clean aspect to it. You think that his shampoo smells a bit like menâs deodorant, but far more gentle. Itâs less masculine than that, somewhat sweet, but it still retains this aspect to it that maintains whatever it is Tendou has going on. You like wearing that smell. Itâs like a homecoming and sends your stomach flipping.Â
His bathroom is decidedly western. Blue tile decorates the shower wall, itâs white grout somewhat tinged with age. The tiles are clean though. You know because Satori reminds you constantly to go over it with the squeegee when youâve finished. It gives his bathroom this particularly polished quality.Â
You lather his shampoo into your hair, inhaling deeply as you do. It smells like him. It smells like Tendou after an evening practice, coming out of his motherâs bathroom as he rubs at his then-shorter hair. It smells like the way he does when heâs at home and you feel it in your lungs when you take a breath.Â
You think of his strangeness. You think of the odd way he carries himself, the way he walks, the way his eyes slink back and forth in a decidedly lazy way. You imagine the cadence of his voice, the soft tenor hum of it when he speaks and the pointed way he says what he means while simultaneously saying the opposite.Â
Then, you think about his recent behavior. You think about how tense he is, the way he clicks his phone on and off like heâs waiting for something.Â
Youâre not particularly sure why the concept of it rubs you the wrong way. Itâs a particular feeling of uneasiness and one you havenât felt with him before. Itâs newâsomewhat excitingâand dreadful. As you shower, rinsing his body wash from the planes of your own, you ponder on the feeling of it. Weighted in your gut, it sits like poison. You feel like youâre watching an anvil hang from a fraying rope, the weight too much to bear, though why you feel it, you donât know.
When you leave the bathroom, Tendou is still seated on his couch. He doesnât seem to hear you leave, and if he did, his body language doesnât betray it. He sits, his legs extended out onto the coffee table in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other. The phone is still pressed to his head with one hand, his long finger holding the back of it to the shell of his ear.Â
âI havenât,â he says quietly.
Thereâs a pause and you can only presume that Ushijima is talking.Â
âYeah, itâs just-â he rubs a hand up under his hair, scratching at the back of his head, âitâs a hard thing to bring up.âÂ
Another pause, except in this one, he stares distantly into the space in front of him. You recognize that look, the one that tells you heâs somewhere far away. The corners of his lips pull flat and you watch as his eyes cloud over with a consuming thought. Itâs the same as the night in the ramen shop, placid and somewhat melancholy. Tendou wears this look often lately, though itâs meaning is one that you canât figure out.Â
It casts over his face like a mask and even now, as he nods into the phone as if Wakatoshi can see it, you wonder what runs through his mind. You have Satori figured out but this expression is an anomaly, one that you canât place your finger on.Â
âWhat is?â You pipe up, walking around the side of the couch and plopping down.Â
Tendou jumps with a start, his hand coming up over his chest before he gives a short laugh.
âJesus, someone needs to put a bell on you,â he breathes.Â
âI wasnât even that quiet,â you laugh a little, âwhatâs so hard to bring up?âÂ
Tendou gives you a wry smile, dispelling the expression he wore a moment ago and donning another. You see it tug at the corner of his mouth before answers, âitâs a secret.âÂ
You roll your eyes, huffing a little. âCâmon, thought we didnât have any?âÂ
âNone that I want to share,â he says, giving you a lopsided grin.Â
âI really hate you.âÂ
Tendou puts his head on your shoulder, peering up at you. âYou promise?âÂ
You bark a small laugh and Tendou turns back toward his phone, his head still resting on your shoulder. You can feel his tufts of dark red hair at your neck, tickling your skin through the fabric of your pajama shirt and you lean into the touch absentmindedly. His free hand fiddles absentmindedly with a stray thread on the hem of your shirt and he mumbles to Wakatoshi that you just got out of the shower. Their conversation, now that youâre present, feels much slower than it previously was, like theyâre deliberately trying to change the subject.Â
Despite the touch, despite Satoriâs blatant affection, the prospect of a secret tastes bad on your tongue. Youâve never been the type to pry. Youâve always believed that whatever you need to know, Tendou will tell. So why is it that youâre so uneasy right now? Distrust sews itself into your skin like a badge and you furrow your eyebrows a little as you watch the planes of Tendouâs face twist with lively expressions through his conversation, the lamp on the side table casting him in a faint orange glow that feels homely and somewhat eerie.Â
You and Tendou head to bed together a short while later, dragging your feet across the carpeted floors before collapsing into bed. Tendou rolls over quickly, mumbling an absent-minded goodnight and while you stare at the ceiling and wait for his breathing to slow and steady itself, you ponder the inbetween. Youâre not so sure which inbetween youâre thinking about thoughâ whether youâre thinking about the inbetween of youth and stabilityâor something else entirely.Â
âÂ
âDid you get the text?â Tendou calls from your living room. Heâs posted himself up in there today, his laptop open as he clicks away at something he wonât show you.Â
The text heâs talking about is one from none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi himself, telling you and Tendou that the three of you should meet up for dinner tonight. He suggested a restaurant downtown, near the station and you were thrilled to receive the text.Â
âYeah, I did,â you call, leaning back on your heels to peer around the corner at him. âWanna meet up here first?âÂ
Tendou is quiet for a moment in the other room before he agrees, telling you that heâs going to send a message to Wakatoshi and let him know. You thank him briefly, returning to whatever it was that you were doing on your phone.Â
You must admit, you have ulterior motives for wanting to go to dinner. Itâs not that you arenât thrilled to have the three of you back together. You are, deeply so. But secretly, you are hoping that it will bring back a sense of normalcy youâve lost in the recent month. To you, it feels like the last normal night was a month ago in your apartment when Satori brought over wine after your break up. That was the last time he felt the way he always has.Â
Recently, heâs been stranger than usual. You canât help the rot that rises in your throat when you think about it. Itâs an uneasy little bug, sending you queasy and anxious over the smallest changes, though you arenât quite sure when it started happening. Itâs hard to place, especially because it is about Tendou of all people. Until now, youâve always felt comfortable telling him everything but for some reason, you worry that bringing this up will make him vanish altogether. Still, you hope that attending something nostalgic like this with him the way you always have will fix it somehow. You hope that maybe youâve just been too sensitive and that after seeing Wakatoshi and eating a meal together, things will just click back into place.Â
Maybe thatâs just wishful thinking though.Â
â
Sa-to-ri: u ready? Iâm downstairsÂ
You check your phone, seeing it light up on the top of your bed through your mirror. Youâd been checking something irrelevant about what you are wearing, fiddling with the waistband of your bottoms or the way your hair falls on your forehead. Nerves rise in your throat as you put on your shoes and lock your apartment door behind you, hopping down the stairs.Â
âWell, donât you look pretty,â Tendou hums, smiling up at you.
Heâs wearing an oversized t-shirt and joggers. They cut off just above his ankles, revealing a worn pair of black high top sneakers. The sleeves of his shirt rest against his upper arms nicely and his hands are tucked into his pockets as he shifts his weight forward. It bunches up around his forearms, creating big, sloping pockets across the front of his abdomen where the hem of his shirt covers his waistband. You roll your eyes, catching the unusual heat rising to your cheeks and swallowing it down.Â
âThanks,â you exhale, âyou trying to butter me up or something?âÂ
Tendou gives you a wry grin. âHowâd you know?âÂ
You sneer lightly at him, âbecause youâre awful at hiding shit.âÂ
Tendou presses his lips into a small line. His eyes glass over a little as he starts to walk, keeping his hands in his pockets.Â
âAnyway, what is it?âÂ
âWhatâs what?â Tendou raises an eyebrow.Â
âThe thing you want to butter me up for?â You furrow your eyebrows, laughing a little.Â
âHuh? Oh, nothing. I just want to be on your good side.âÂ
âScared or something?âÂ
âA little,â he hums, looking at his shoes before glancing sideways at you as he raises his chin to peer at the tops of the buildings lining your walk to the station.Â
The restaurant is a few stops away in a newly painted building. Itâs a few blocks from the station, lit up by electric blue lights characteristic of KokubunchĂ´. The crowds, which you should be used to, overwhelm you a little and youâre grateful for Tendou, whose height makes him impossible to lose. Youâre surprised that Wakatoshi would suggest a place downtown, just off from the izakaya and clubs that make KokubunchĂ´ such a popular destination for people our age. After all, heâs never been much of a partier, often choosing to abstain and stay in shape.Â
Itâs been a long while since youâve seen him. Wakatoshi spends most of his time traveling around Japan and Asia, playing volleyball in countries youâve never even thought to visit. He competes in global competitions and will most likely be recruited for the Japan National team for the Olympics.Â
When you arrive at your designated meeting spot, Wakatoshi is standing outside. You know that before you even see him because people round the corner he stands behind while glazing backwards over their shoulders. They mutter about how big that man was, if theyâve seen him somewhere before, if heâs a celebrity. Tendou snickers under his breath, his head tilting a little like itâs on a spring, and you smile in response.Â
You run ahead of Tendou and round the corner, greeted by Ushijimaâs tall figure standing outside of the entrance to the building, lit up by the neon sign above him.Â
âFinally!â You shout, bounding over to him and embracing him into a hug.Â
âYou should really announce who you are before you hug someone,â he says, his voice low and baritone as he wraps his thick arms around you.Â
âI did,â you laugh a little, your excitement at finally being able to see him again climbing in your throat.Â
âI wouldnât consider that enough warning.âÂ
You pull away, pouting a little at him before cracking a wide smile.Â
âHow are you?â he continues.Â
âIâm good,â you exhale, âJesus, look at you. I think you got taller.âÂ
âI didnât,â he says matter of factly, âthey measure me a lot for the team. I would know.âÂ
âStill straightforward as ever,â you huff a little and Wakatoshi gives you a gentle smile. Itâs barely there, but youâve known him long enough to be able to notice it now.Â
âNo greeting for Satori?â Tendou feigns injury behind you, shrugging his shoulders and scuffing his heel against the floor.Â
Wakatoshi scoffs lightly before stepping close. Then, the two boys hug each other, clutching tightly around the otherâs shoulders as they mumble about how long itâs been since theyâve spoken in person. Satori makes an off-handed comment about Wakatoshi getting more handsome and Wakatoshi jostles his shoulder in response, saying something about Tendou being smoother around the edges too.
You watch, stomach swimming with a familiar feeling you get only when the three of you are together. Itâs like you are all 17 again and nothing has changed. The way you speak, the way you feel, the uniquely comfortable atmosphere the three of you set with each other, blankets you like snow.Â
Tendou walks into the restaurant first, followed by you, and then Wakatoshi behind you. People inside of the restaurant turn and stare when they duck under the doorway, standing to their full height in the restaurant. Even among people with similar heights, the two of them stand out. Tendou with his knowing eyes and Wakatoshi with his undeniably good looks. You are in the middle, caught between two magnetic forces that youâve spent the majority of your life around.Â
You settle at a small table in the back. Itâs clean and hardly has enough room to fit the three of you around it comfortably. Itâs a trendy restaurant, mostly famous for its matcha desserts which mix western cooking with Japanese flavors. The majority of the menu are smaller appetizers, but there are sandwiches as well as seafood options which you hungrily stare down. When the time comes, you settle on a salmon dish with miso seasoning, Satori decides on a spicy curry, and Wakatoshi orders the same thing you do but with a small side of tempura. Looking at the place now, you figure that itâs probably closer to an izakaya than any other type of restaurant. You look forward to dessert.Â
âAre either of you getting drinks?â Tendou leans forward on the table on his elbows, giving a wry grin.Â
You peer at him from the side, smiling slightly. âAnd you say Iâm the alcoholic.âÂ
âYou are,â he states, leaning forward and smiling at you.Â
âIâm not,â Wakatoshi adds.Â
âWell spotted, Ushiwaka,â Tendou snickers.Â
âYeah, youâre a regular Sherlock Holmes,â you laugh.Â
âI meant that Iâm not getting a drink,â he says flatly, pressing the ghost of a smile between his lips.Â
You and Tendou glance at each other before bursting into a fit of giggles. Then, Wakatoshi follows with a laugh thatâs deep seated in his chest.Â
âI donât know. Are you?â You ask Tendou, exhaling deeply.Â
âI want one,â he shrugs.Â
âOf course you do,â you chuckle a little. âThen, Iâll have a beer too.âÂ
Tendou tilts his chin upwards, his eyes narrowing as he gives you a little smile. Itâs like he expected you to do the same, an affectionate and knowing little curl of his lips that sends heat rippling through your stomach. It takes a lot of strength to tear your eyes from him and when you do, you find yourself trying to shake the new feeling from your stomach as you inhale.Â
âSo Wakatoshi, howâs the team?â You ask as Tendou flags down the server and orders two beers and a glass of water.Â
âTheyâre fine,â he says, smiling a little. âTeam practices still happen even in the off season, but whatâs important is weight training to make sure we stay strong.âÂ
âIs that why you were able to come back to Sendai for a bit?â
âMhm, though I still train every day,â he offers, leaning back so that the server can set down the drinks on the table.Â
âSo drivenâŚâ Tendou smiles.Â
âYou should be playing, you know,â Wakatoshi says to Tendou.Â
He waves his hand in response, dispelling the thought. âMe? Go pro? Nah, I think Iâd be miserable. Volleyball was just a high school thing for me.âÂ
Wakatoshi shrugs his shoulders.Â
âYou gonna be on the Olympic team, âToshi?â You pry a little, leaning forward.Â
âI donât know yet. Weâll find out next year.â His expression doesnât betray anything, but you can hear the excitement in his voice. It makes the sound feel tight, like heâs trying to keep from shouting about it. You smile to yourself.Â
âLook at you, youâve got a whole career. Meanwhile, Satori and I have no clue what weâre gonna do in the future,â you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink. The condensation sticks to your hand.Â
Then, Wakatoshi furrows his eyebrows and looks to Tendou. He looks back at him and for a moment, they sit there like that, communicating telepathically (most likely). It makes you uneasy, like there is something about Tendou that youâre not allowed to know. The uneasy feeling thatâs made itself scarce the entire evening bullies its way to the base of your throat. You try to swallow it down, but to no avail.Â
Tendou inhales and the moment is broken. The two boys settle back into their seats and glide past the strange occurrence.Â
âIâm sure youâll both figure it out,â Wakatoshi offers, smiling gently at you. âYouâre very capable.âÂ
âI applied to a temp agency a week ago, so hopefully something comes of that,â you take another big sip of your drink.Â
âTemp agency? Why didnât you tell me?â Tendou pouts a little.Â
âI mean, itâs not a sure thing. Just an application. Didnât want to get ahead of myself.â You laugh.Â
âAwww but I wanna hear about your life,â Tendou whines lightly.Â
âBro, you are literally in my house five days a week. You know just about everything.âÂ
Tendou shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his chair, mood shifting from the false sadness into something of realization. Has he only just now realized how much time the two of you spend together.Â
â_____, Satori told me you and your boyfriend broke up.â Wakatoshi says.Â
âDamn, seriously dude?â You shrink into your chair, letting the server place your food in front of you. It looks good and your cut of fish steams on the bed of rice it sits on. Your mouth waters.Â
âSorry, he asked about it,â Tendou shrugs his shoulders, picking up his chopsticks to start eating.Â
You wave off the apology. Itâs not like you werenât going to tell Wakatoshi anyway.Â
âYeah, we did,â you say, swallowing the first bite of fish.Â
âWhat happened?â he pushes.Â
You shrug your shoulders, sitting back in your chair a little and pushing the fish around your plate. âWe just werenât compatible. I didnât like him the way I thought I should and he clearly didnât like me very much. He was kinda mean.âÂ
Tendou swallows his bite of food beside you and Wakatoshi glances up toward him. They exchange another look and Satori shakes his head, returning his gaze to the food.Â
âThatâs terrible. Iâm sorry,â Wakatoshi offers.Â
âNah, donât worry. Iâm not all too beat up about it,â you laugh a little. âIt might sound twisted, but when we broke up I didnât really care all that much.âÂ
âI can vouch for that. They called him a cunt.â Tendou adds, smiling over his drink.Â
âI did do that,â you confirm.Â
âSounds like them,â Wakatoshi gives a small laugh.Â
The rest of your meal is spent in idle chatter. You and Satori have a few more drinks, trying to get Wakatoshi to order one in the later half of the evening, to which he dutifully shakes his head. You blather on about how much you miss him and when the next time heâll be in Japan is while he smiles fondly and tosses sideways glances to Tendou who just shrugs because he knows you get like this.Â
You realize, at some point, that unlike you and Tendou, Ushijima is not in the inbetween. Heâs got a well-established career with a clear future path. He is not stumbling around blindly, but rather taking deliberate steps towards his future. You and Tendou, it seems, are caught in that particular place, walking yourselves in circles until you finally find the courage to walk in a line. Youâre relieved to know that someone is in the circle with you.Â
Briefly, you think about the looks Satori and Wakatoshi exchanged. Pointed, deliberate looks that exchanged information between the two of them. Youâre not sure why it bothers you the way it does. Itâs not as if theyâve never had secrets between the two of them before. This one, however, feels somehow heavier. It feels like itâs an elephant in the room between the two of them. You hate the inflated feeling it gives off. It swells and presses you against the wall, stealing the air from your lungs and sending panic to rise up through your throat.Â
Youâre sad to part with Wakatoshi, offering him a long hug and doing your best to squeeze the air out of him. He pats your back, laughing lightly about how heâll be back eventually. You whine, telling him that he needs to call more. He promises that he will, though you know it will probably remain the same. The two of you have engaged in this perpetual cycle for years now.Â
Satori hugs his friend goodbye as well, mumbling something to Wakatoshi that you donât catch, to which he says that they can talk about it later.Â
You scuff your feet against the floor the whole way home, trying to pretend that your plan to make things feel normal worked.Â
â
You and Satori have clear boundaries. You always have. There are things you can and canât do with each other that you both follow religiously. Itâs not as if youâve ever actually discussed it with him. The two of you have never sat down and actually talked about these rules you have in place. They are unspoken but mutually understood.Â
You suppose that drawing those types of lines started in high school. Before then, it had never even crossed your mind that skinship or your particular ways of showing affection to each other could be taken as anything but platonic. Satori was the first of the two of you to get a partner. In your second year of high school, heâd started going out with a girl in his class. Youâd never met her before then in earnest, though youâd certainly seen her around, mostly out of the corner of your eye.Â
Tendou wasnât all that popular in high school. Not just because of the way he looked (which youâve always thought to be above average), but because of the somewhat aloof attitude he maintained. Between snide comments and a generally over-confident demeanor, most people found him off-putting. It didnât take long though for a few girls to notice his better qualities. They noticed his fingers, long and lithe and wrapped in bandages. They noticed his smile, the coy kind that affects one side of his mouth before it affects the other. They noticed his height and stature, the lazy way he carries himself so that he always seems a little off kilter.Â
To you, these things have always been obvious. His good looks have always been something that youâre keenly aware of. Whatever unique qualities he has only seem to add to them.Â
Still, when he started seeing her, you and Satori seemed to fall in sync about these unspoken boundaries. One day, the line in the sand between you both was drawn into being, separating your friendship from anything beyond that.Â
Youâve always been grateful for that little line, you think. It keeps things from getting confusing. It protects yours and Satoriâs platonic relationship as much as it protects your romantic ones. You donât read too much into things. Your heart doesnât flutter when he touches you (or does it). You keep your pesky emotions at bay. Itâs all thanks to that lovely little line.Â
Sometimes though, like now, that line stares at you. For some reason, it feels like whatever is going on with Tendou is on the other side of it. You feel like heâs moved the line farther away from him, drawing a bubble and preventing you from stepping close. His situation, whatever it may be, is now beyond your grasp and you feel as if asking would be stepping over it.Â
Itâs the first time in your friendship, you think, that Satori has drawn a line all on his own.Â
Heâs back in your house today, lounging on your bed with his head hanging off the end. You can see the way his neck protrudes and bobs each time he swallows. Itâs got a lovely angle to it and you can see the lines of lean muscle running up the sides of his neck.Â
When heâd walked in, youâd found yourself shocked to see that heâd not only decided to get a haircut, but to buzz off all of his hair entirely. Youâd gaped at him, reaching up to touch his head and lamenting the loss of his shoulder length hair.Â
âWhat? You donât like it?â heâd asked through a coy smile.Â
âItâs not that itâs just⌠why?â youâd questioned, unable to shake the feeling that it has something to do with his secretiveness.Â
Tendou adopted that familiar far off look and shrugged. âNeeded the change. Kinda felt like I was going in a circle.âÂ
Then, heâd brushed past you and into your house, asking about something to drink.Â
Satoriâs looking at his phone now, scrolling through social media like heâs a robot stuck on repeat. Every now and then, his lips will quirk up a bit when he sees something funny, but otherwise, the only thing that moves are his thumbs and the gentle bob of his neck.Â
You stand facing the mirror in your room, watching him through it as you busy yourself with something on the shelf adjacent. Youâd been looking for a book to read but had been quickly distracted by your train of thoughts after seeing a photo of you and Satori from high school.
You keep it framed on your nightstand in a cheap wooden frame you bought from a thrift store before going to college. It was taken a few weeks before your graduation, standing in front of the school gym. Satori is in his volleyball uniform after playing a final skirmish with his team before he passed down his jersey. His hair is spiked up and his forehead is slick with sweat. Heâs pulling you close to his body in the photo, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and his fingers secured on the other end of you. You can almost recall the feeling of his jersey, damp with sweat, and your smile in the photo betrays a slight grimace at the feeling of it.Â
Satori, however, is beaming. His smile is radiant and his eyes are half closed in what looks like the beginning of a genuine laugh. Heâd found it amusing to pull you close to him that day, relishing in the way you whined a little about how gross he was. Not that you really minded. You donât mind much of anything if itâs Satori doing it. Heâs special that way.Â
A notification on Satoriâs phone draws you from your thoughts and your eyes wander habitually to the reflection of his screen in the mirror. It looks like an email and Satori shifts when he gets the notification, sucking in a quiet breath as he quickly reads over it. Then, he closes the application.Â
âWhy are you staring?â He speaks abruptly, satisfied at the way you jump at being caught.Â
âI was just wondering what youâve been waiting for on your phone lately,â you admit, toeing the line heâs drawn.Â
âMmmmmmm,â he hums, not turning to look at you as a smile creeps up his features, âyou curious?âÂ
âMhm,â you answer, turning to face him properly. âIs it a girl?âÂ
At this, Tendouâs eyes slink backward to look at you over the crest of his eyebrows. His lips quirk up in a wry grin. It smooths across his features like liquid metal.Â
âWhy? You wanna date me?âÂ
Youâre not sure why the teasing question flusters you so much, but it does. Heat bubbles in your stomach and rises to your face just as quickly and you chide yourself for the way you turn away from him.Â
âI was just curious,â you huff, rolling your eyes to try and dispel the new sensation rising in you.Â
Tendou gives you a catâs smile through the mirror before he stretches his arms above his head and lets them hang over the side of the bed.Â
âItâs not a girl,â he answers, laughing a little. Then, he pauses like heâs debating something before growing quiet and adopting the strange look heâs been wearing. âNothing important really.âÂ
You furrow your eyebrows and eye the line in the sand.Â
Itâs killing you, not knowing. This melancholy and secretive facade Tendou has adopted is making him feel like a stranger and itâs eating you up inside. But you trust him. You trust Satori with your life and more, so you swallow down the uncertainty. Itâs coming from somewhere unfamiliar. Somewhere possessive and needy. You ignore the fact that the feeling is coming from a place you previously thought your feelings for Satori didnât come from.Â
âYou sure?â you press, clenching your jaw after the words leave your lips.Â
âYeah.â Tendou doesnât look at you in the mirror, stretching his arms above his head. You think about growing pains.Â
Lukewarm. The inbetween. You know what this off feeling is. That subtle space in which your lives have been in for the better part of the last five years. A delicate balance between present and future. A delicate balance between friends and something more. This feeling is different. You worry that it is the inbetween of affection and indifference. Itâs going to eat you alive.
â
Tendouâs apartment is pleasantly disorganized. It is one of those spaces in which everything looks out of place, but never really is. Tendou knows where each thing is, even if youâve always had trouble learning. While this is true for all of the places that Satori inhabits, you think it is especially true for his bedroom and the office.Â
His room is littered with small boxes for little items heâs collected over the years. His shelves are stocked with manga heâs liked enough to collect. They arenât organized in any particular way except by series, but the pattern seems to make sense only to Tendou. His nightstand always has a half drank glass of water on it and on nights when you stay over, there is one beside it for you.
In the corner, thereâs a tall dark oak dresser full of his clothes, all of them folded neatly in drawers and tucked away until he needs them. On top of it, there are framed photos of his childhood, as well as one singular nationals trophy that he didnât have the heart to throw out. You think all of it is endearing. Thereâs something lovely about entering this space and feeling him all around you. Any stress seems to melt directly off of your shoulders.Â
âWanna order in?â You pad into the living room where Satori is posted in front of the television playing some rendition of the Legend of Zelda games.Â
âHuh?â He says before quickly interrupting himself. âOh, yeah sure. What did you want?âÂ
Tendou glances at you over the couch, his eyes catching yours for a moment. He grins, his lips curling up in a delightful way, before he turns his focus back to the TV.Â
âI dunno, chicken?âÂ
He chuckles, pausing his game and putting his arm over the couch cushion. Tendou tilts his head to the side and smiles. âYou always want chicken. Same place, I assume?âÂ
You shrug. âYeah well, I like their spice blend.â You lean your weight against the wall beside you. âSo can we order chicken or not?âÂ
Tendou tilts his head up, pressing his lips together in a smirk and narrowing his all-seeing eyes.Â
âSpice blend,â he chuckles, humming pleasantly like heâs mulling something over. Then, he clicks his teeth and you wonder briefly about the motion of his tongue when he does. âYeah, letâs do it.â Then, he turns back to the TV and presses play.Â
âKay, Iâm gonna order from my phone then,â you hum, rolling your eyes and unlocking the screen.Â
âSure,â he says and you pad over to his bedroom to sit down as you pick out what you want. âOh! ____!âÂ
âHuh?âÂ
âIf youâre ordering from the place down the street, Iâm pretty sure I have a voucher for a free plate.â He calls.
âOh, where?âÂ
âOffice, I think. Somewhere on the desk.âÂ
You chuckle to yourself, walking down the hall and into the small makeshift office Tendou has set up. Itâs in what should be a closet, with only enough space for a light and a small desk set up. When heâd moved into this place, heâd proudly told you about his plans, to which you told him that if it makes him happy, he should do it.Â
âWho even keeps physical coupons anymore?âÂ
âMe, bro,â he laughs. âJust use it though, Iâm pretty sure itâs gonna expire.âÂ
âKay!âÂ
His desk is littered with paper. Most of them are things heâll never use again; flyers he was handed on the street, takeout menus he usually looks at online, printed receipts for things he bought years ago. Only a few things are actually useful; printed recipes from the internet, a small booklet full of drinks from his job, and a thick recipe book with papers and post-its sticking out of it.Â
You shuffle through the papers, looking for the coupon. Youâre expecting something bright red and gaudy. Something that feels like itâs trying too hard to get your attention. When you find it tucked beneath the thick book of recipes, you almost just grab it and go. If it hadnât been for the way your eyes lingered on the spot where it was for a moment, you never would have seen it.Â
Underneath the coupon, is a clipped together stack of papers. A wax-covered yellow paper clip holds them together and at the top, it reads Le Cordon Bleu and then DiplĂ´me de Pâtisserie. Itâs been hastily translated into Japanese and you canât beat the curiosity or the way dread begins to swirl in your stomach.
Itâs an enrollment confirmation and clipped underneath it, there is a confirmation for the rent of a studio apartment in Paris. The date for the enrollment is two months from now and you grimace at the paper, making out what you can of the sloppy translation and French writing.Â
In your hand, clipped with the yellow-paperclip, is all of the evidence of Tendouâs intention to leave. Worse yet, his intention to leave without telling you in advance. An inky black substance rises in your through, swelling there like lead before realization rounds the corner. In your head, the ball thatâs been looming over your head for months now finally drops and you manage to make sense of his behavior the last few months. It wasnât a girl, itâs never been a girl. It was this.
Itâs hard to tell exactly what thoughts run through your mind as you register what youâre looking at. The first is that heâs been keeping this secret for longer than three months judging from the paperwork, the second is that he deliberately chose not to tell you, and the third is the phrase youâve repeated to yourself since high school. Everything you need to know, Tendou will tell.Â
You try not to spiral. You try to keep your feet rooted on the ground at the idea of this person youâve known since adolescence simply going away so suddenly. None of it works. The secrecy of it cuts you like a slow-dragging knife, pressing into your skin and cutting a fine line from your stomach to your forehead.Â
â_____!â Tendou calls. His voice startles you from your thoughts. âIf you havenât ordered yet, can you get me extra hot sauce please?âÂ
You donât answer, instead starting to make the short walk from the office to the living room.Â
Tendou says your name. When you donât answer, you hear him pause his game and stand up, calling your name again.Â
By the time heâs turned to start walking in your direction, eyebrows furrowed, you have reached the entrance to the living space. The papers are clutched in your hand and you can feel the edge of them pressing into your palm.Â
âWhat are these?â You ask, attempting to keep your voice steady.Â
âWhatâs what?â He tilts his head, smiling before he glances down to your hand.Â
You hold it up so that he can see.Â
When his gaze settles and he registers what youâre holding, his smile falls. You see the blood rush to his face and a look of shock cover his usually calm features. The expression is foreign on him and it sends a pang of dread through your chest. You had hoped that you were wrong. You had hoped that maybe he was going to tell you, that youâd show him and heâd laugh casually about how he just found out and wanted to tell you once it was settled.Â
âWhat is it?â You say softly and Tendou struggles to find the words.Â
He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. You watch as he scrambles, your lips pulling deeper and deeper into the frown that you can feel taking over your face.Â
âAre you going away?âÂ
He nods.Â
âWhen?âÂ
âSeptember.âÂ
The air is knocked from your lungs and your voice comes out as barely a whisper. âThatâs in two months, Satori.âÂ
âI know.âÂ
âHow long have you known?âÂ
He doesnât answer and when you look up at him, you can see the way that his eyes are growing red.Â
âHow long?â You say, a little more forcefully.Â
âSince March.âÂ
âJesus,â you scoff, âMarch? Thatâs nearly five months.âÂ
He nods, slightly defeated.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me?âÂ
Tendou scrambles for the words again, and suddenly you feel like youâve been poisoned. Your stomach turns and your vision goes a little dizzy and you consider the type of sickness that this will bring to your friendship. How sick will it make the both of you? How long will it be until you are well again? Tendou, whose face has fallen into something of dread and uncertainty, clearly feels it too. You blink, staring at him with wide eyes to give him the opportunity to salvage what small bits of your trust remain.Â
Somehow, the expression he wears looks like heâs been about to form it for months. Like that blank expression he adopted was somehow an early version of this and itâs with a heavy heart that you realize that what youâd been seeing on him was the expression of keeping an awkward secret.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me, Satori?âÂ
âI wasnât-â he swallows. âI didnât-âÂ
âYou didnât know how?â You frown, finishing his sentence. You feel the way your brows press in the middle. âYouâre my best friend, Satori. Thereâs nothing you canât tell me.âÂ
It hurts to know that he didnât trust you with this. Unlike the secrets he keeps with Ushijima, this feels like a secret heâs deliberately kept from you. It wounds you to know that there is something Satori didnât want to tell you, especially something this huge. You feel yourself bleed out onto his floor, though youâre not sure what the other emotions that come with this are. Something adjacent to hurt, like heartbreak.Â
âYou didnât know how to tell me, so your solution was to just fuck off to France one day without warning?â You raise your voice a little and Tendou, who is usually so fearless, flinches back from it. You press your lips into a line.
It feels selfish and you canât figure out why. None of this makes any sense at all to you.Â
âYouâve kept secrets before too,â he says like heâs just thought of the justification. Satori scrambles like a young boy caught in the act, clamoring for a way out of the hole heâs dug himself. The more he reaches for his footing, the worse it hurts you.
You furrow your eyebrows. âSure! Iâve kept secrets about who I fucked in high school. You kept secrets about your entire fucking future!â The words sting the front of your tongue. âDoes Wakatoshi know?âÂ
Tendou doesnât answer.Â
âDoes Wakatoshi know?â You say again, forcefully this time. Hurt makes its way into your lungs like a fever.Â
âYeah,â he says quietly, shoulders slumping forward. âHe does.âÂ
You let out a laugh, reaching up to your face and wiping away the tears that have started to well up. When Tendou sees this, his eyes go wide and he takes a step towards you. Instead of letting him take you into his arms the way he always has, you step back. Then, you walk to the entrance of his apartment, grab your bag, slip your shoes on, and open the front door.Â
âCongratulations. On the school,â you muster, though it feels spoiled.Â
You want to mean it, but you donât and the realization sends you out of the door and down the street. When you get on the train home, you finally allow yourself to cry, trying to put together why all of this hurts so much. Why are you spiraling the way you are? You wipe hot tears from your face with the backs of your hands, sniffling quietly while people struggle not to stare. The summer heat in the train car is stifling, clinging to your skin and making your face sticky with tears and sweat.Â
â
Youâve never fought with Tendou like this before. Sure, youâve had small spats that lead to a few days of not talking, but this feels bigger than that. This feels like the earth has somehow cracked between you both and opened a deep rift. Youâre not sure how long itâs been forming, but you know it isnât sudden. Pressure builds behind you both like a damn fit to burst.Â
Itâs not as if itâs only the move thatâs doing this. You think itâs more. You think it has something to do with that line in the sand or whatever these new feelings for Tendou are. All of it has been somehow funneled into this one secret, spilling out in a messy and jumbled way that confuses you about feelings (or lack thereof) that youâd been certain about for over 10 years.Â
The floor of your apartment is cool like glass. Itâs always colder on the floor than it is standing. You lay down to escape the heat, clinging to the wood like a seastar to a rock. Humidity clings to your skin and makes you sticky. You grimace, rolling over slightly.Â
It may seem dramatic to lay on the floor and think about Satori, but you often find yourself on the ground when you need to think about something important. The energy flows better down here. There have been several times in which Tendou has laid down on the floor with you to think. He did it when you needed to decide where to go to high school, he did it when you needed to think about saying yes or no to a confession, he did it when you were deciding where to take the entrance exams for at 17. Come to think of it, all of the major decisions in your life were made on the floor. Satori had been there for all of them.Â
You breathe out an exhale and more heat sticks to your skin. Even the breeze coming in through the window is unbearably hot, though you suppose thatâs just the nature of July.Â
Itâs been almost a week since you last saw Tendou, which isnât too long in the grand scheme of things, but feels like a lifetime because itâs him. You canât remember the last time you went so long without seeing or speaking to him. You canât bring yourself to respond to his texts. Heâs left four of them, each asking to talk to you about it. Every time you try to respond, you lose the courage to do it, sputtering to a stop just before you start to type.Â
Heâs been with you for all of the major decisions in your life, but you werenât privy to even know about this one. Sure, Satori is allowed to do what he wants. You know that heâs not obligated to tell you everything, that he doesnât have to inform you of every small change in his life, but you wouldnât consider this a small change. Shit, this is bigger than any decision heâs ever made and he didnât tell you about it.Â
Youâre not sure whatâs worse, the idea that he kept it from you all this time or the idea that had you not stumbled upon those papers, he might have just vanished one day. Itâs difficult for you to wrap your head around, the idea of Tendou just going away. For you, heâs been a constant presence in your life. Even when you went to college in Kyoto, heâd come to visit. The train ride was never more than a few hours and he would stay through the weekends or youâd make your way back up to Sendai where he attended the local university.Â
Paris is thousands of kilometers away. Forget visiting on weekends, you might not even be able to visit him on holidays. Then comes the question of if he would even want you to visit. If he didnât tell you he was leaving, maybe he wouldnât want to have you there. It could be that Tendouâs closeness with you was too much and it had reached a boiling point youâd never noticed.Â
Itâs hard to believe that the boy youâve known since 13 could think to go so far away from you. Itâs difficult for you to wrap your head around, almost like the thought is presented to you in another language. Itâs vaguely familiar, but deeply confusing, so much so that it sends you reeling. Youâve been reeling for the past few days, spun like a top and left to settle on your own.Â
This summer is hotter than most and the air doesnât aid your thinking. It leaves you feeling stagnant, distracted by the sound of cicadas outside your balcony. Heat and anger cling to your skin like sticky black tar and the more you think about you and Tendou, the more you feel the poison in your bloodstream. You wonder briefly if Tendou is feeling it too, though of course heâs brought it on himself. Even through your anger, it hurts you to know that he might also be hurting.Â
When you met Satori, he was only an inch or so taller than you. He sprouted up around your second year of middle school, turning into the beanpole that he is today. He didnât have a lot of friends when he was younger, not until halfway through your first year of middle school when he became a regular on the volleyball team.Â
You suppose that he didnât have many friends because of his name, or maybe it was because of the way he looked. Before Satori grew up, his big eyes and thin upper lip were even more pronounced than they are now and when he was 13, he hadnât yet grown out of that awkward, middling phase all children go through. You never minded but the other kids certainly did.Â
In fact, you always liked that Tendou matched his given name so well. Satori, referring to a yokai that can read minds. His all seeing eyes. The way he seems to know everything about you before you know it yourself. It all suits him so nicely. Youâve always liked that about him, those qualities which heâs owned from a young age and maintained throughout the majority of his life.Â
Theyâre as dear to you as he is, and you know that theyâve become dear to him as well.Â
When you were young, you never cared much for the gossip of other children, so when Satori joined your middle school class and was greeted with the whispers of your classmates, you paid them no mind. It seemed that Satori didnât either, instead focusing on volleyball, which allowed him to realize a certain twisted kind of satisfaction he craved. Your friendship unfolded quickly, moving through the awkward acquaintance stage and into the friend stage quickly.Â
The first summer you both spent together was one of the most memorable. Come to think of it, you and Satori had somehow managed to skip over the awkward part of making friends at 13, barrelling into the summer season together as comfortable friends. Heâd sat out on your back porch with you often, eating cut watermelon your mother had prepared for you both. She was just glad to see youâd made a friend. As a young child, people found you unapproachable, as youâd always had an agency over yourself which other kids didnât have.Â
Satori was the same, though he was always more immature in his teasing. Tendou has always gotten a kick out of toying with others and in high school it half-way earned him his nickname of Guess Monster, which plays on the word âgesuâ meaning âlow-lifeâ. You always thought it was mean, but it would be a lie to say that Tendou didnât earn that name with his opponents. He always somehow managed to come across as somewhat sleezy to them, even if you know heâs anything but.Â
It happens to be another part of him that you adore deeply. The way he makes you squirm has always been an enjoyable aspect of your neatly kept friendship.Â
Still, that first summer and all the summers after, went the same way. On the porch or balcony with a plate of fresh watermelon, laying across the slightly-cooler floor and debating through bored slurs what to do next. You can recall every version of him. 13 and immature, grinning over the tops of sunburnt cheeks. 17 and laidback, with a cheshire-like grin and a penchant for teasing. 20 and in college, with long hair and an easy, attractive grin. 24, with freshly buzzed hair, sitting between the past and the future, getting ready to leave you behind.Â
You know itâs unfair to think that way. Heâs not leaving you behind. Not really. Satori is just moving forward. Heâs taking another step towards his future and thatâs supposed to be a good thing. Itâs supposed to be good that he knows what he wants next. But you canât find it in you to be happy for him.Â
You think itâs selfish. Itâs selfish of him to not tell you. Itâs selfish to want to go so far away. Itâs selfish to want to be somewhere that you arenât. Most of all though, it hurts that you didnât know. It aches somewhere deep and ancient in your chest, a kind of pain youâre unfamiliar with. Foreign and dull, pressing right up against your sternum from the inside. It feels like heartbreak, as alarming as that is.Â
Satori has a side to him that you didnât know. A secretive one. One that allows him to just slowly withdraw if he wants to. It makes you wonder what else he keeps from you. Everything you need to know, Tendou will tell. How far does that extend? What other things donât you know?Â
While the ache is there, you can also feel confusion. Itâs a deep, skin-tingling sensation, like something not quite realized. You have no idea why youâre reacting as adversely to this as you are. Itâs not as if him not telling you this yet means anything that youâve spiraled into believing. Itâs not like it means he doesnât care about you, it just means that he was as tongue tied as you feel right now.Â
Your friendship has always had clear rules and boundaries and you think that feeling the way you are and Tendou keeping this secret has somehow broken them. Itâs like, in breaking your unspoken rule somewhere else, Tendou set off a chain reaction that caused you to break another. Now, all you can think about are the inbetween moments. The liminal space between friends and something more that you and Satori have occasionally crossed into.Â
Itâs not because you are fantasizing about it, nor is it because you necessarily want it to mean something, but it is because they mean the most to you. Those little moments are when youâve felt the closest to him, as if your relationship were strengthened by your physical proximity and the feel of his hands on your arms or face.Â
You think about those easy summers. About the way girls pass him on the street and giggle into their mouths when he glances at them. About the way he looks at you when he walks. All of it piles up like sand, heavy and easy to sink into. You could get lost in these feelings and it terrifies you.Â
Youâre so deeply uncomfortable with the change, both in Tendouâs life and in your steadily rounding realization. Why is that? Youâve separated from plenty of friends before just like this and never felt so hopeless. Leaving for college was no different. Even when Wakatoshi moved away permanently, you werenât half so torn up. You didnât mourn the loss of some unplacable thing that had yet to exist. But here you are now, laying down on the floor of your apartment and thinking about what it means that heâs going away and what it means that he didnât tell you. What makes Satori so different?Â
Youâve never had to do this before. Thinking about how to respond to Satori feels so strange that itâs making you sick. You used to always know what to say. Whatâs making this any different? Why does it feel like thereâs a lump in your chest thatâs going to make you sick?Â
Maybe itâs because you canât figure out his motivations. There are very few instances in which you canât tell what Satori is thinking. After all, heâs the person you spend the most time with, of course youâre able to tell what heâs probably thinking about. You wonder what you could have done to hurt him, rolling onto your back and clenching your fists to quell the crack you feel forming across your chest.Â
Thereâs so much anxiety, so much uncertainty. All you can smell is that first summer. All you can hear is that hot and humid day when you were 13. You wonder why it comes to you so clearly now. Is it because this is the last? Is it because you both have already been poisoned beyond healing? Or maybe itâs simply because that is when these feelings started to take root.Â
Maybe they started to take shape a long time ago, this uncertain, swelling ache in your chest that feels so adjacent to love you could have mistaken it for exactly that. The only reason you havenât is because you know better. You know better than to break the rules, than to love him like that when your friendship has never been anything more.Â
Youâve been staving it off for so long, you think. This unplaceable desire has been curbed time and time again. You think back to all of the times itâs felt like Satori was about to cross a boundary and you wonder if he ever actually was or if youâd just imagined it because you wanted it so badly. Even now youâre not sure. You think about your past boyfriends, why it never worked. Had you ever actually cared about them or were you just seeking out traits you thought you saw in Tendou?Â
Even if it is more than friendship, even if he does mean more to you than you thought, all you know is how angry you are. It swells in your chest, ballooning until it presses against the inside of your ribcage and makes you ache. You know this canât be fixed alone. You could run yourself in circles and none of it would make any difference. None of this introspection will matter until you can talk to him, until you can be in his presence again.Â
The threat of loss looms heavy over you, like an anvil tied to a string, it swings precariously above your head. Satori, even after keeping the monumental secret, is still your best friend and losing him, distance be damned, is unfathomable. Heâs everything to you and the situation, its precariousness, makes you afraid. How long have you been in the space between loving him and losing him?Â
â
Sa-to-ri: hey i wonât text you anymore after this, but please come by when youâre feeling up to it. i can explain.Â
You read the text over and over in front of his apartment. Thereâs a thrumming in your chest, like nerves come alive, and you canât seem to just open the door.Â
Satori opens it first, swinging it open with one sharp pull and staring at you.Â
âWere you tracking me?â you ask softly.Â
âYeah,â he admits.Â
He steps to the side to let you in and you quickly remove your shoes, stepping into his apartment.Â
Satori looks like the Satori he always has. Tall and lanky, with big, heavily creased eyes and his thin upper lip. His bottom lip, full and round, bounces slightly as you turn to face him. You rake your eyes over his buzzed hair, still not quite used to the way it looks on him. You remember running your hand over it a few weeks ago and feeling the soft, spiky texture of it. Part of you misses the long hair, though you think this suits him more somehow.Â
His eyes, which are usually low-lidded and laidback, look swollen, and the bags under his eyes which you admire so secretly, are more pronounced. Satori looks tired and as soon as you register that itâs probably your fault, you let your shoulders fall.Â
âHow are you?â he questions softly, the familiar tenor ring of his voice tentative and needy as he follows it with your name.Â
You shrug. âIâm okay. How are you?âÂ
âBeen better,â he says, giving you a lopsided grin that you struggle to return.Â
You nod at him, swallowing thick, and Satori lets out a shaky exhale and runs a hand over his buzzed red hair.
âI can explain whatâs happening, if you want,â he offers.Â
âIt seems pretty straight forward,â you say. âYou applied to a school in France, got in, and it spiraled out before you got the chance to tell me. Right?âÂ
Satori tilts his head, surprised. Youâve hit the nail on the head.Â
âIâm sorry,â he says quietly. âI didnât mean- I didnât think that-âÂ
You nod, biting back the familiar sting of bile rising up your chest. âI know. Iâm trying not to be mad.âÂ
âAre you?â he asks. âMad, I mean.âÂ
You nod.Â
âWhy?âÂ
âWhat do you mean why?â you say, giving an incredulous snort. âYouâre going away and you were going to do it without telling me.âÂ
Satori tosses his arms up a little, beginning to grow frustrated. âI thought you just said you understood what happened?âÂ
âI do!â you shout back. âDo you expect me to leap for joy because youâre going 9,000 kilometers away?âÂ
Tendou tries to step towards you, reaching out with his lithe fingers to attempt to soothe the anger he can feel rising in you.Â
âI have no real idea why you didnât tell me,â you admit, crumbling a bit. âI think I could go over it a million times in my head and never really understand. But I think the worst part is that I donât even know what Iâm mad at. Iâm just mad.âÂ
He falters, opening and closing his mouth in an attempt to find something to say. You feel your eyes grow wet with tears.Â
âWhy is it so easy for you to just leave me behind?â You question quietly, your voice cracking as tears start to spill. You feel silly and selfish for asking him this, but itâs what comes up. That unfamiliar swell of emotions youâve been experiencing for the past week all bring you here. âHow can you just up and leave just like that without even asking me about it? Didnât you ever consider that Iâd want to know and celebrate with you?âÂ
â____,â he says quietly.Â
âAnd I feel so dumb because I know I should be happy,â you cry, wiping your eyes. âI know I should be happy that youâre taking the first steps toward your future, but I canât be. Iâm so hurt, Satori and Iâm so sorry that I am.âÂ
You shake your head a little when Tendou steps close to you, unable to lift your head to look at him.Â
âI know you have your own life and your own future,â you say, nodding your head. âI know. But I donât know how you could ever want to go so far away from me. I donât think I could ever do that.âÂ
Itâs not accusatory, but uncertain, like youâre weighing the words on your tongue. It almost sounds as if youâre questioning your own feelings. It even surprises you and you stare at the floor between your feet to try and ground yourself. You can hear Satori breathing. Itâs a steady sound, occasionally hitching and giving away his emotions.Â
âDo you love me?â he speaks up quietly. You raise your head, eyebrows furrowed. âDo you love me like that?âÂ
You donât know what to say or how to answer. The question has forced your gaze back up to him. His small eyebrows are pulled together in the center and his lips, usually tinged with a small grin, are pulled downwards. You ache at seeing him like this.Â
âBecause I do,â he adds, staring at you.Â
âYou what?â It shocks you, and you shake your head a little as if that would clear up the misunderstanding. You watch as he breaks every boundary you both have ever created.Â
âI have for a long time. I love you and Iâm not leaving because I donât,â Satori looks almost unrecognizable, so deeply passionate and emotional, but thereâs something familiar in it. Thereâs an emotion that youâve seen somewhere before. âI didnât keep it from you because I donât.âÂ
âWhat are you saying?â You can hardly hear your own voice over the sound of your heartbeat.Â
âDo you love me?â He steps towards you, adamant in receiving an answer. âBecause I really need to know, man. I canât do this without knowing.âÂ
You try to gather your thoughts. All of the teasing, all of the little lost glances Satori would adopt, all of the secrecy. It was because he loved you? It was because he loves you? Even the thought feels heavy, like itâs coated in lead. The idea drops into the pit of your stomach, weighing you down and for a moment you think you may be sick.Â
Do you love him? Do you love him the way he wants you to? You look at him, fingers trembling.Â
âI donât know,â you swallow.Â
âCome with me,â he pleads, âjust come with me.âÂ
âWhy didnât you tell me?âÂ
âI donât know,â he says, running a hand forward on his head. âBecause I love you. Because you drive me insane. Because I didnât even realize I was hiding it until it was too late to not be hiding it. I never meant to let it get this far I never- I never meant to make you cry,â he says, stepping forward and taking your hands in his. âYouâre my best friend. I never wanted- I never wanted to lose you and I was so scared and I didnât- I didnât know what to do.âÂ
You take in his explanation, nodding slowly. âSo your solution was to say nothing?â You frown at him.Â
Satori stares at you. âIâm sorry,â he squeezes your knuckles, âcome with me anyway. Even though I didnât tell you. Come with me.âÂ
You stare at him for a second, attempting to process the speed at which your brain is moving.
âI canât do this without you,â he admits, letting his shoulders fall forward and casting his eyes toward the floor of his apartment.Â
This sends you reeling more than anything heâs said yet. Satori, by nature, is fiercely independent. Heâs fiercely driven and internally motivated. Most people, when they meet him, can recognize this instantly. It makes the admittance heavy, like itâs waterlogged. You gape at him.Â
Your eyes follow the familiar planes of his body. His round, double-lidded eyes which are so familiar to you that you would know heâs watching you without even looking. The sharpness of his cheekbones. The undereye bags that you love so deeply. You follow the trail his cheeks make to his mouth, slightly parted and glossy with spit. His neck, leading down to his collarbone. The exposed parts of the muscles, now visible to you from any angle since he cut his hair.Â
Heâs looking at you with a desperate, wild look. It would be frightening if it were anyone else, but itâs Satori. Itâs your most loved person. The one person you could do anything with and be okay.Â
The boundaries which youâd relied on so often in times like this, donât exist anymore. Thereâs no inbetween to fall back on, no safety net to keep you from falling completely. If you want you, you could give into this entirely. You donât have to catch yourself. You donât have to sleep on the couch. Thereâd be no more side-stepping and avoiding and wondering if you wish it or if you dread it.Â
âOkay,â you say quietly, inhaling. âOkay.âÂ
Tendou looks at you for a minute, blinking. His face is so familiar and being able to look at it like this is like a homecoming.Â
âAre you still mad?â he asks quietly, his hands still gripping yours.Â
âYeah,â you admit.Â
âCan I kiss you?â He breathes out.Â
âYeah.âÂ
Satori leans forward, bringing his hand to the side of your cheek gently. Heâs so close. The boy youâve known since 13. You can feel his breath on your face, trembling slightly as he draws closer. You screw your eyes shut as his lips meet yours. Familiar is the word that comes to mind. Youâve never done this with him before, but you can map out the way they look from the feeling of them alone. Â
You inhale sharply and Satori leans in closer, bringing his other hand to your face and deepening the kiss. He cups your face firmly with both hands, pulling you close to him as his shoulders drop and he lifts your face to get a nice angle. Everything about his touch is different, but somehow deeply familiar. Itâs like youâre meant to be here like this with him. Like youâre meant to be in his arms, which your face cupped between his long, lithe hands.Â
He pulls away from you, leaving you dazed and breathless. Looking at him from this close feels like a privilege. Itâs like you can see every single detail about him that youâve ever loved. You reach up to touch his face, running your thumb across his under-eye bag.Â
âIâm sorry,â he says again, his lips swollen.Â
You shake your head. âI should have been happier for you.â
âMmm, you always worry about other people like that,â he says softly. âIâm the one who acted like an asshole.âÂ
âI still donât want you to go away.âÂ
âI know,â he leans forward, pecking your lips. âBut itâs not for a little while. Weâve got time.âÂ
You kiss him first this time, pressing forward until your lips find his. Tendou immediately licks into your mouth, deepening it with a groan and pulling your body flush against his.Â
Thereâs so much relief in touching him like this, in feeling the slip and slide of your skin against his. It feels right, so right that all of your previous experiences begin to pale in comparison.
He is so dear to you that it is overwhelming. All of it comes at once as he lays you on the bed, hovering over you with his eyebrows pulled together. Everything that he is is so dear. His hair, his smile, his low-lidded and heavy creased eyes. Oh, how you love him. Any anger slips away in the realization.Â
Youâve never seen him look quite so shy, nor so hesitant. His hands, which are usually so sure, run up your sides at an awkward pace, like he canât quite get a hold of whatâs happening. You feel that your expression mirrors his, that the pace of your breath betrays the nerves youâre feeling.Â
Satori hovers over you, his shirt pulled off to reveal the pale expanse of chest youâve seen a million times. His chest heaves, like heâs out of breath, his round shoulders supporting the weight of him as he looks at you. His eyes betray a sense of adoration. Itâs an emotion youâve seen in him a few times, similar to the expression he wears when he plays volleyball. It looks like heâs being consumed. Then, he tilts his head at you and smiles. You smile back at him, reaching to hesitantly touch the back of his head and pull him close to you.Â
His buzz cut feels soft to the touch and Tendou gives in when he feels the warm pads of your fingers at the back of his neck. He lowers himself closer to you, shifting onto his forearms and then dipping his neck down to kiss you, beckoned by your gentle touch. You feel his knee press into the mattress between your legs and gasp when he moves it up to brush against your center.Â
Thereâs a strangeness to being touched there by him. Along with the relief of friction, comes the oddness of who. Thatâs not to say that it doesnât feel right. It does, though to ignore the years of history between you two would be a disservice. That strangeness, however, only fans the flames of your desire. This is a part of him youâve never seen before.Â
Satoriâs fingers snake down your abdomen where your shirt has ridden up. Theyâre cold and you can almost imagine the round and somewhat pointed look of them. You glance between you both, admiring the knobby curve of his knuckles and the way he toys lightly with the elastic of your waistband.Â
âCan I?â he breathes out, barely above a whisper and so laced with desire that you almost think he might whine.Â
âGo ahead,â you exhale and he gives you a little smile before dipping two fingers between the folds of your cunt and pressing lightly on your clit.Â
You gasp, arching your back up at the cool sensation of it, slowly relaxing as he starts to move his fingers in a steady circle. When you open your eyes, you see that heâs watching you, his neck craned down to peer at the expression youâre wearing.Â
âStop thatâŚâ you laugh lightly.Â
âStop what?â he croons, pressing lightly at your entrance with the pad of his finger.Â
âStaringâŚâÂ
Satori leans down and kisses you while sliding one finger in. You feel him smile against your mouth when you gasp, the corners of his mouth curling up delicately as his mouth leaves yours.Â
âYou have no idea how long Iâve waited to touch you like this,â he says quietly, still against your mouth. Then, with that lovely upward lilt to his voice, âlet me stare a little longer.âÂ
You huff a little, fighting the heat rising to your cheeks and he laughs a little bit, kissing down the exposed parts of your neck.Â
âI could do this instead,â he hums, teasing a little as he pushes your shirt up and places a kiss between your breasts.Â
His lithe fingers cup up to cup your chest, pinching your nipple over your bra with two fingers as he smears his lips down your stomach. You donât know how to respond, instead watching the rise and fall of his head with your breathing as he leaves a trail of kisses down your abdomen.Â
When Satori reaches your waistband, he pulls his hand from you and hooks two fingers around it, shimmying it down your legs.Â
Itâs not as if you havenât undressed in front of him before. Satori has seen you at your best, your worst, and all of your inbetweens. Youâve changed in front of him more times than you can count, even going so far as to skinny dip together the summer before college. Still, this time is different. This time, when Satori undresses, heâs looking at you with his eyes that see everything. Heâs watching the expanse of your body, gaze crawling up each inch of exposed skin until his gaze rests on your now exposed cunt.Â
You let out a subconscious whine when his breath hits you and his lips curl up a little when you do. He rests his head on the inside of your thigh, looking up at you from between your legs.Â
âFeeling shy?âÂ
âObviously,â you force out, covering your face with your forearms.Â
âAw, what?â he pouts. âDonât hide from me.âÂ
His voice is so sincere and so fond that it draws you out from behind your arms. Heâs still looking at you, smiling from where he lays between your legs.Â
âThere ya are,â he says, a lopsided grin spreading across his features. âIâm gonna touch you now.âÂ
Then, he spreads you open with two fingers and licks one long stripe between your legs. You shiver, your hand instinctively flying up to his head where you grow frustrated that his long hair isnât there to hold onto anymore. He gives you a small smile from between your legs, holding your pussy open, before dipping back down and securing his mouth around your sensitive clit.Â
Something about this is so deeply embarrassing. Maybe it's the fact that itâs Tendou, or maybe itâs because you havenât had someone go down on you this well in a long time. Either way, you feel the humiliation in your teeth like sugar, your knees knocking inward every now and then when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.Â
Satori hums into your cunt every now and then, tongue lathing over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Everytime you twitch or gasp, he gives a pleasant little hum that you feel buzz through you, then he looks up to check on your reactions. His hands, which are so familiar you think youâd know them only by touch, wander over your thighs and up your stomach to your breasts. They donât stay in one place for long, instead running all over your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.Â
Youâve always liked Satoriâs hands. Ever since you met him, youâve thought they were nice. Theyâve got a gentle look to them. Theyâre big and his fingers are long, but theyâre thin, with smooth and somewhat knobby knuckles from injuring them so often in volleyball. Theyâve always been hands that you wanted to be touched by and now that theyâre running softly over your skin, you find yourself shivering at the overload of sensitive touches.Â
Every one of Satoriâs touches are gentle. Even his tongue between your legs, which winds the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter, is gentle in his appreciation for you. Itâs like heâs experimenting ever so slightly, like heâs cherishing you while simultaneously figuring out what makes you tick. He already knows everything about you in a platonic sense, now he gets to learn in a sexual sense.Â
Still, despite the gentleness of his touches, it is all too much. His hands, his mouth, the feel of his tongue as he sucks on your clit. Even just the way he looks, eyes closed and brows pulling upwards, is overwhelming. He moves his face side to side slowly, smearing you across his face, before he looks at you with low lidded eyes.Â
The knot in your stomach tightens and you begin to swelter. Your face grows hot, lightheadedness flooding the space between your ears as youâre worked closer and closer to your high. You gasp, reaching to run a hand over his buzzed hair.Â
He reaches up behind his head and knots his fingers with yours at either of your sides. You squirm against him, desperate as you build higher and higher. Satori groans lightly as you choke out a light warning, trying your best to not sound as broken as you feel. He nods, lapping at your cunt with a flat tongue until you feel you are fit to burst. Your chest heaves, your head spins, you begin to peak and then, Satori stops.Â
Your voice catches in your throat. Itâs a feeble, pitiful sound that catches and tapers into a low whine. You buck your hips forward, legs feeling like white-hot sandbags as your climax slips steadily away from you.Â
Satori tilts his head at you, giving a wry grin. His signature smile is coated in you and his mouth and chin glistens in a way that feels incredibly vulgar. You tremble lightly as he wipes his face with the back of his arm and sits back on his heels. You watch the heave of his chest, lean muscle shifting underneath pleasantly warm skin. Starry freckles dot pleasantly across his chest and you briefly wonder where on earth he got them.Â
As the frustration wanes, you find yourself wanting to be closer to him, desperate to build your high back up.Â
âI kind of liked that reaction,â he drones lightly, leaning over you as you beckon him.Â
âYouâre such an asshole,â you breathe out, catching his mouth with yours.Â
He hums into it, lips curling as he kisses you softly.Â
âUh oh,â he says against your mouth, âam I on your bad side now?âÂ
âYeah,â you respond, reaching down between you both to run your hand lightly over the bulge in his boxers, âthe worst of it.âÂ
Your response is absent-minded and quiet, not retaining your usually snarky attitude. Right now, the only thing youâre thinking about are the points of contact between you and Satori. Thereâs only touch.Â
Satori doesnât respond, instead letting his head hang between you both as you reach under his waistband and wrap your hands around him for the first time. Heâs long and not particularly thick and you drag your hand up the length of him just to test his size. Satoriâs so hard that you think it must hurt him, his tip wet with precum.Â
He shudders over you, his shoulders tightening as you run your thumb over the tip of him. Heâs more sensitive than you would have expected and you tilt your head slightly to watch the way he screws his eyes shut.Â
He looks so new to you like this. Everything is new. Itâs so new, in fact, that you can push aside your own desperation in favor of witnessing it. Though the person is familiar, the situation is not. It makes you feel like a virgin. Well, it makes you feel like a virgin and not a virgin at the same time. Youâre having fun just playing with him, running your fingers along the length of him. Itâs like getting to show him what you know, all with the butterflies of a virgin.Â
You suppose he feels the same. Maybe thatâs why heâs got his head tilted down, only looking up to give you a strained smile whenever the head of his cock brushes your slick cunt.Â
Thereâs so much feeling. Thatâs the only way you can describe it. There is so much feeling between you both, humming and shifting and pressing against your sternums from the outside, begging to be let in. Itâs tangible between the two of you, so present that you think you could grab it with your hand, but neither of you move to take it. Instead, you press closer, letting it sit heavy in the air between your faces.Â
Satori doesnât move to push himself inside of you and you donât move to guide him there. Instead, you let the tip of him press lightly against you, running your fingers up and down it. The tension, made up of your frustration and feelings, balloons until you are certain it will burst. Your lower stomach winds and coils despite how gentle the touches are and desire makes its way into your throat where it sits leaded and heavy.Â
He groans lightly over you, his hips shaking lightly with how long heâs been holding himself there. You run one hand over the curve of his shoulders, feeling the way the lean muscle shifts as he tenses and untenses.Â
Finally, he pushes past the tight ring of your cunt with a low whine and you move to wrap your hands around him. The pads of your fingers press into his back, leaving marks in skin that youâve seen a hundred times over. He trembles over you and your focus is pulled between your legs where you feel the pressure of Satori there. He presses forward until his hips are flush with yours and youâre made breathless by the sticky pressure of his pelvis against yours.Â
He stays still for a while, tilting his head to the side to catch your mouth. You feel his breath come in quick bursts, but he never moves to fully kiss you, instead brushing his lips against yours as if to draw the desperation from it. You grow antsier by the moment, pushed to frustration quickly by the stillness of his hips and the distance of his mouth from you. When a low whine escapes your mouth, Satori smiles silently and flicks his hips forward once.Â
You tip your head back and Satori chases your mouth, finally kissing you lightly as he starts to rock back and forth.Â
He finds a slow rhythm. Itâs deep and overwhelming, each thrust pushing deep into you until you feel the press of pressure in your stomach. He doesnât so much thrust his hips as he does roll them at steady intervals, pressing the tip of himself up and into that gummy spot inside of you.Â
Youâre sticky between the legs. You can feel it each time he pushes into you, dripping from your pussy down to the mattress. Satori smears it with his hips on purpose. You can tell from his expression that heâs enjoying the mess, his familiar face watching for your reactions as he experiments with you.Â
âYouâre so fucking pretty,â he says through gritted teeth. His hand comes up to brush the side of your cheek.Â
You donât know how to answer, cut open by the affection in his voice and the way pleasure sews itself through.Â
âYouâve always been so pretty,â he says again, bending down to kiss your neck. âBut youâre even prettier like this. I donât want to share it.âÂ
You shiver, âThen donât.âÂ
Satori hums lightly, dragging his mouth down your chest to take a nipple in his mouth. He speaks around it. âI like the way you sound when you try and talk while Iâm fucking you. Talk sâmore.âÂ
The sentence is so dirty that it feels like your face is lit on fire, âNo.âÂ
âCome on,â he teases, popping your nipple from his mouth and sitting up completely. He hits you deeper like this and you feel him twitch inside of you. âJust a little?âÂ
âSatori,â you whine a little, breathless. âIâm embarrassed.âÂ
âOf what?â He questions, reaching to take your hand and press it to your stomach.Â
âI donât know,â you grunt, gasping when he adds pressure to your stomach.Â
âOf that?â he grins, fucking his hips into you sharply. You can hear the sound of your wetness.Â
âYeah,â you gasp, âthat.âÂ
âDonât be,â he mumbles, leaning over you again to speak against your mouth. âItâs really hot.âÂ
Your stomach flips, turning over as the pressure and his words come to a head in the space between your ears. Your cheeks heat and your stomach seems to roll beneath your skin. Youâve heard Tendou say all sorts of things about all sorts of people, but for some reason, the idea that he finds you hot sends you syrupy.Â
âSatori,â you breathe out, tipping your head back to let him nip again at the sink on your neck.Â
âHm?âÂ
âNothing,â you sigh. âJust wanted to say it.âÂ
âAgain,â he says, punctuating his sentence with his hips.Â
âSatori.âÂ
He groans, laughing a little. âSounds different when you say it now.âÂ
Heâs right. Youâve said his name a million times, but it sounds different now. Thereâs more intimacy to it, like youâre not just calling to him, but for him. The distinction to you is important and the sharp sound of the syllables leaving your mouth only serve to heighten your desire.Â
Pressure mounts in your gut like water against a dam. You feel it build there while Satori presses his hips deeper. You repeat his name, embarrassed but calling out for him nonetheless. He obliges every time, meeting your pleas with heavy sighs that give away the closeness of his peak.Â
âIâm gonna-â you choke, grabbing at his shoulders.Â
âYeah, baby,â he breathes, âme too. Whenever youâre ready, okay?âÂ
You nod, meeting your high with a dizzy head. Satori holds you still while your hips buck and your knees buckle beneath him. He follows not long after, spurred on by the press of your thighs around his hips.Â
It takes a long while to come down. The haziness fades away but even after several long minutes, the glow does not. It sticks you to both like summer heat, inescapable and rich. Satori plays with the small baby hairs by your forehead and you let him, resting your cheek on his sticky chest. Youâre not sure of what to say. Itâs difficult to orient yourself.Â
âShit,â he mutters softly.Â
âWhat?â Your stomach drops.Â
âNothing,â he says, running a hand down his face. âI think Iâve just got it way worse for you than I thought.âÂ
âOh,â you say, nodding, letting silence settle over both of you before you break it once again. âI think I love you.âÂ
âYeah?â he says quietly, lifting his head from the pillow a little.Â
âMhm,â you say softly.Â
Satori presses his smile into the side of your head.Â
âIâm a little nervous,â you say, laughing quietly.Â
âOf what?â He grins. âThat youâre gonna like me too much?âÂ
You slap his chest lightly, âDefinitely not.âÂ
âHarsh,â he laughs a little.Â
âIâm nervous because what if things donât work?â you admit quietly. âWeâve known each other for so long, Satori, but what if one day we canât stand each other? What if in the future we donât even talk anymore?âÂ
âYou trying to jinx it?â he laughs a little.Â
âNo,â you pout.Â
âWell, look,â he says, lips curling in the corners, âthereâs no way in hell I could ever get tired of you and Iâd never let you get rid of me. Iâve been haunting you since we were 13 and I donât really plan to stop.âÂ
âHaunting?â You scoff. âYou know, Satori, youâre really fucking weird.âÂ
âThat right, baby?âÂ
âEugh,â you laugh a little. âGross.âÂ
Satori shrugs.Â
âIâm still upset you didnât tell me about France either.âÂ
âI know,â he says a little softer. âI really-â
âYou donât have to defend yourself,â you say. âI think Iâm just going to be mad about it for a while. Youâll just have to put up with me.âÂ
âOkay,â his voice sounds small and you turn over onto your stomach and press your forehead to his chest.Â
âEverything feels so complicated now,â you say softly.
âHey,â he tilts your chin up. âDo you love me?âÂ
âYeah,â you answer, fighting the heat rising to your cheeks.Â
âGood,â he says, giving you a boyish grin. âI love you too. Thatâs not so complicated, right?âÂ
The words of affection feel strange in the same way new shoes do. They fit, but theyâre foreign. You have to orient yourself to the way they make you feel, but the joy of wearing them hums to life in your chest like a stringed instrument. Satoriâs lips curl into a cheeky grin and the expression is so familiar that it makes you ache. Itâs mischievous, like heâs not quite being serious and if you didnât know him better, it would make you nervous. But you do know him better. You nod lightly and let his smile infect you the same way it has since you were 13.Â
The glow remains.Â
â
Sa-to-ri <3: you ready?Â
You: ya coming now.Â
Sa-to-ri <3: kk iâm outside.Â
Your heart leaps into your chest. It swells there, heavy and affection filled. When you step outside, Satori looks up at you, pressing his palm to the wall behind him and pushing forward in one fluid motion. You watch recognition flash across his face the same way you feel it flash across yours and then, his eyes soften. His lips melt into an affectionate and easy going grin as you approach him.Â
You fly down the steps, unable to choke back the small laugh bubbling at the back of your throat.Â
âSatori,â you breathe as he takes you into his arms. You bury your face in the extra fabric of his sweatshirt, inhaling his familiar smell.
âHi,â he chimes softly. You feel him rest his head on yours then, he sways a little bit.Â
âI really missed you,â you sigh, unwilling to let go.Â
âI missed you too,â he laughs a little and you feel his fingers come up to cradle the back of your head.Â
How long has it been since youâve seen him? Four months? Maybe five? Since moving to France, heâs come back to visit once for only a few days and though you talk to him on the phone almost every day, itâs not enough. Itâs never enough unless heâs here.Â
When you pull away, he takes your face in both of his hands and looks at you like heâs cataloging everything thatâs changed about you since you were separated. His eyes trace the lines of your face and yours do the same to his.Â
âYou got prettier,â he smiles lightly.Â
âLiar,â you laugh a little.
âNope.âÂ
Satori leans forward and places his mouth on yours gently. You suck in a sharp inhale, heart racing against your ribcage. Even a year later, he still makes your heart leap out of your chest. You missed the way he tastes, relieved to finally be able to taste him again.Â
âYou buzzed your hair short again, baldy,â you laugh, reaching up to run your hand over the spiked surface of it.Â
Satori rolls his eyes, They glide upwards as his head follows the motion of them and then, he scuffs the tip of his shoe against the floor. Heâs wearing a pair of worn black high top converse. Youâve seen them many times before in the entryway of his old apartment, but in his time away theyâve become so well worn that theyâre gray in certain areas.Â
Tendou gives you a wry smile. Itâs a ghost across his face as he narrows his eyes a bit in a familiar way. âEasier to manage this way at school.âÂ
âMm, I bet. You sure youâre not just losing hair?â You tease.Â
âEven if I were, I think youâd date me anyway.âÂ
âYou got me,â you laugh, turning to walk down the street with him.Â
Satoriâs fingers automatically tangle with yours. You feel his knuckles slide past your own, the tips of his fingers cool but his palm warm and wide. Your mind runs at a mile a minute and you realize that you have no idea what to say to him. Right now, his familiarity and your longing for it are overwhelming. All of your thoughts are abstract and the warm, fuzzy feelings are unplaceable. They live in your throat.Â
Instead of talking, you look over at him. The hair heâs just recently buzzed again highlights the delightful round shape of his head and you think it suits him. He looks clean and trimmed, something unusual for Satori, but you donât find yourself missing his shoulder length hair. Instead, you like this metamorphosed version of him, somehow grown from the man he was when he left. You resist the urge to reach up and run your hand over the top of it again.Â
Itâs nearly 9pm and, as usual, the sidewalk is littered with people on their way home or out with friends. Girls pass Tendou in the street with little glances. They peek to the side as he walks past them, admiring the sway in his step and the alluring way he slouches forward the way they always have. These same girls giggle into their mouths the same way they always do. Itâs easier to see now that you know how to feel about him, that Tendou is attractive. Heâs always been that way, but now, as these girls whisper about you being his girlfriend, you find yourself giddy to be able to say that you are.Â
You take stock of him beside you. Heâs long and lean, staring ahead at the building just beyond the sidewalk in its seemingly endless stretch into the sky. His eyes slink back and forth between the screens illuminating the street with ads and every now and then, his gaze will stop on one he finds interesting and he will squeeze your hand. You watch him through the corner of your eye until you have to look away.Â
The walk to the ramen shop is longer from your apartment than Tendouâs old one, but itâs familiar. Youâve not been back there since Tendou first moved to France last September. Still, each step that you take feels so natural that you could do it blind.Â
When you reach the familiar ramen shop by Tendouâs old apartment, you notice that the blue curtains in front of the door have been replaced. The kanji is cleaner now and the bottom isnât fraying quite the same way it used to. Tendou still holds them to the side for you, unlacing your fingers and ducking through the doorway after you. When you walk in, you find that now there are two ramen chefs behind the counter. The old chef, the one you grew up with, is toward the back of the bar and in front is a young man with features like his.Â
You settle evenly into the bar, smiling softly at Tendou when he looks at you. When the old ramen chef sees you, the corners of his eyes crinkle in a welcoming smile.Â
âItâs been a long time since you two have been here! Whatâs been keeping you away?â he exclaims, placing his hands on the bar. âThe same usual orders?âÂ
âOh, this and that,â Satori hums. âI moved to France and they hate coming here alone.âÂ
âThat so?â The chef smiles.Â
You both nod and Tendou slips into an easygoing rapport with the man, leaning his chin onto his hand as he talks. You watch the way the muscles in his arm flex and the way the corners of his mouth curl into a smile, sinking quickly into the comfort of the space.Â
âYou two together yet?â The chef glances between the both of you.Â
Satori leans back lightly, looking sideways at you before he shrugs his shoulders. He doesnât offer a verbal answer and you find yourself following suit in his shrug.Â
âYup, weâre in love,â you say, leaning forward and fighting the heat that rises to your cheeks.Â
The chef waits for your subsequent denial but when it never comes, he smiles knowingly and pats the counter softly. He doesnât offer his usual chiding remark. Thereâs no reason to anymore and instead he turns to fix your bowls. The soup will take 8 minutes to prepare. You have 8 minutes to sit here with Tendou and ask him everything you want to ask before you both become inevitably engrossed in your meals the way you always have. Tendou no longer adopts that signature spacey look he would have at times like these.
âHowâs Paris?â you ask.Â
Tendouâs eyes slink along his lower water line and he turns his headâstill resting on his cheekâto look at you. âItâs good. Kinda cold. Make sure you bring lots of jackets.âÂ
You nod and think back to your apartment, filled with boxes that will be moved out and shipped ahead to Tendouâs Parisian apartment. All of your things, your life, are packed into those boxes. Scores of memories and matter, evidence of the years spent with him, neatly organized to be transplanted somewhere else. The apartment itself doesnât matter much though, your home, youâve found, is wherever he is.Â
âYeah? Howâs school?â You lean forward to be closer to him.Â
âReally good,â he sighs a little. âIâm really happy. Gonna be happier when youâre out there to see me graduate though.âÂ
âIâll be there to see the other stuff too, like when you open your own shop.âÂ
âMhm,â he laughs a little. âDid I send you the picture of the new place I was thinking of?âÂ
You shake your head a little. âNot yet, show me now.âÂ
Satori gives you an excited grin before he pulls out his phone to show you. The tab is already open on his phone, like heâd been staring at it only moments earlier and daydreaming about his future there. Itâs on a street corner with big glass windows. The space looks empty from the photos, already cleared out and ready for him to move in.Â
You can just barely see past the clear glass door into the cozy space inside. In fact, it looks to be only a little larger than the ramen shop youâre in now.Â
âItâs got an apartment upstairs,â he says, a little quieter now. âI was thinking we could tour it once you get out there. Iâve already put in an application.âÂ
You bite back a giddy smile, the prospect of living with him becoming more real as he talks to you about it. There are several things youâre grateful for since you started seeing him, though perhaps one of your favorites is his continued openness with his wants and feelings. Even this small conversation makes you feel loved in a way that you have trouble describing. Itâs so full that you have trouble swallowing it.Â
ââCourse, youâll stay with me in my old apartment till itâs all squared away,â he smiles a little. âIâve got enough room, though it might be a little tight.âÂ
âI hope so,â you laugh a little, rolling your eyes. âIâm really relieved.âÂ
âRelieved? Why?â He gives you a small laugh. âYou like being that close to me?âÂ
You shrug a little, rolling your eyes at his gentle tease. âI was worried youâd get out there and realize everything was wrong⌠or something.âÂ
âWeird of you, but okay,â he laughs a little, playing with your hand on the table.Â
âThough youâd really be fine anywhere,â you laugh a little. âI think youâre just that kind of person, Satori.âÂ
âOnly if youâre in my corner,â he says, giving you a sly grin. You shove his arm at the cheesy remark. Despite dating for a little over a year now, things like that catch you off guard. After all, in hindsight, being with him like this was the next natural step, youâd just been too stubborn to see it.Â
Itâs been a long while since the two of you have spoken in person and you soak him up like sunshine. He seeps into your skin through proximity alone. The distance made you nervous at first. Though youâve gotten over the initial lie that separated and then brought you together, for some reason there was still some part of you that felt that when Satori left for Paris, he was leaving forever. You know now that that feeling was just your affection for him, but it doesnât make the relief any less sweet.Â
You can recall the teary-eyed confession he made like it was yesterday. The image of him with his hands at his side, asking if you loved him is burned into your brain. If you could go back, you donât think you would change a thing. Your only regret was not being able to formulate those vague feelings which became so overpowering earlier. If youâd known earlier, youâd have been able to have loved him longer. Youâd have been able to consciously love him the way you do now, the way you think you always have. Loving Satori comes easily, like breathing, up until that summer youâd just been too young and dumb to see it, your head underwater. Itâs only been a little over a year, but hindsight is 20/20.Â
When silence falls over the two of you, you lean close and let him scroll through the pictures from his time in France. Youâre so deeply content. Youâre so prepared to move to be near him, so ready to take that next leap and follow where he goes. Itâs a secure feeling, one that grounds you in the moment.Â
The chef places two bowls in front of you and Satori perks up, sliding his phone away and moving to crack garlic into his soup. He hands you the chili oil, remembering how you like yours and you smile warmly when his eyes meet yours. If you could, youâd kiss him right now just for remembering. The smell of ramen wafts up in thick clouds of steam, hitting your face with warm and heavy moisture as you lean over it and inhale.Â
âItâs none of my business but,â the chef says, clearing his throat a little, âyou both have been coming here for a long time and I think youâve grown into fine young people. Take care of each other.âÂ
Youâre too emotional to find the words, but the chef looks at you with something of a fond stare. Heâs known you both long enough to understand to some degree how long itâs taken to get where you are. You stare with a childlike wonder, unable to say anything to this man who created the space you found so inviting through your adolescence, but Satori finds the words easily.
âItâll be my privilege,â he smiles, the corners of his mouth turning.Â
Itâs such a simple statement, but itâs definitive and somewhat serious for Tendou. It implies longevity, the kind that lasts a lifetime. He sounds so certain of himself that you find yourself nodding firmly beside him, heat rushing to your cheeks.Â
âEat up, kids,â the chef smiles, glancing between you both and patting the counter with a smile.Â
Tendou thanks him and you stare at the noodles in your bowl, feeling oddly introspective. What youâre feeling now is not quite elation, nor is it indifference. The best you could describe it is as a hopeful nostalgia. Beside you, Tendou begins to slurp at his noodles and when you glance sideways at him, he meets you in the middle. You canât help but mirror him when he smiles around his chopsticks.Â
You eat your ramen through idle conversation. Tendou talks about his future shop and you talk about the job youâve managed to secure overseas with your previous experience from the company youâve worked at the past year. You both have stable jobs now and itâs strange to talk about your future together as if it has already arrived.Â
Suddenly, you are in your third year again, discussing futures that have long passed after an evening practice. Satori is in his volleyball sweater, concealing a sweat-drenched uniform, and you are wearing your skirt with sweatpants underneath it. Thatâs what this feels like. Youâre no longer in the in-between. There is no precarious balance between past and present. There is only future. Thereâs only the future that youâre living in and the one youâve both begun to make with each other. The in-between, that space between adulthood and adolescence where present and future find their middle ground, is finally beyond you. Though you can sit here and glance behind to recall all of those little choices, youâre here now, already arrived at the place where all of it has always led you.Â
Two people, two collections of memories, each winding and twisting in their own individual ways. Theyâre what makes you both, the decisions that have brought you to this inevitable finish and this endless beginning. You remember the choice to say yes and it is with a nostalgic fondness that you realize, in all of your future glory, that there are more choices to come.
In this little ramen shop where your past meets your future, you and Tendou Satori, the boy youâve known since 13, in the after.Â
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I donât have finer points worked out yet, but I needed to share anyway.
Imagine you and Kiri go on this extensive vacation as friends. Youâre both single and want to travel but donât wanna go alone, so, together it is. But after some fun events and thrilling adventures in brand new places, he gets a little too caught up in the moment and kisses you.
Heâs worried heâs ruined everything but you assure him itâs more than okay. Kissing him back and he feels a little better about it.
Weeks pass and you two hold hands, steal kisses, and have even had a steamy make out or two but nothing more. Both too worried thatâll cross some friendship line (even though both of you are already so far past the point of just friendsâyou just wonât admit it yet).
But, one night youâre someplace warm and tropical, in this outdoor club with him and you both have plenty of liquid courage surging through your bodies. Youâre on the dance floor, grinding up against him. Heâs got his white linen shirt open and it looks so damn good against his sun kissed skin you canât help but run your hands all over him.
Heâs just a man though, and he can only handle so much. When he reaches his limit, he grabs you by the hips and yanks you flush against him. His heated words across your neck make you freeze for a moment. âI know weâre just supposed to be friends, but if you keep dancinâ on me like this, Iâm gonna fuck you like youâre mine.â
When your brain processes exactly what he said, you respond by pushing your ass harder against him, against his incredibly stiff cock that you alone caused. Your arms loop up and around his neck to keep him close. âOh really? Well, why donât you prove it, big guy?â
Iâm just saying⌠thereâs no way we would even make it back to the hotel roomâŚ
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Ohhhhhh... Do you know those, "Grow Your Own Crystals" science experiment kits, that came with powders that would grow into different colours? Part of me wants to imagine Kylar and Sydney as kids setting up one of those, some sleepover or another, only for one (unsure which... Both? Hm) to realize once they're grown that they kind of resemble the other's eyes... (<- their brain is childhood/middle school crushes inside)
YES....!!! Very familiar with those kits, my mom loves things like that ehehe... God. That's so cute.
Kylar sleeping over at Sydney's house- they keep themselves busy all night doing crafts & kits like that. When Kylar goes home the next morning he proudly shows his parents what they made kjhgjkghhg!!!
Skip forward some years later, past their falling out, etc... The rediscovery of these crafts (little homegrown crystals, maybe a friendship bracelet, etc.) would certainly be... soured! I think over time, they would've been lost in junk drawers/storage.
Little scenarios for both under the cut â đđ
Kylar â My first thought for him in this scenario was: Him tearing the house apart, trying to find... an old family charm. An heirloom of some kind to give PC that would really connect them to his lineage. Among the mess of junk, he stumbles across a funky, amber crystal. His face scrunches up as he picks it up, trying to determine it's worth.
And... oh.
The memories come flooding back. How he and Sydney huddled together at the dinner table. Sydney held the container still while Kylar stirred the water and powder together. After all these years, it was still intact. Unnaturally colored and ugly, but it was so... Sydney. He'd given Kylar the amber one, while Kylar had given him the green one. They'd exchanged their favorite colors, so "whenever you see it, you'll think of me! <3"
It's not worth anything, other than icky nostalgia. He doesn't need Sydney anymore. The only person he needs is his love. They're the only one who actually cares about him. He stashed the gem back into the drawer, slamming it shut.
...He should throw it away or something.
Sydney â Sydney finds it in Sirris's home office. He'd been digging through his father's desk, looking for stationary supplies. That's when he saw it, high up on the bookshelf across the room. A little green crystal, sitting next to Sydney's childhood pottery and crafts. He stood up, walking over and pulling it down to get a better look. It was lighter than he'd remembered. But, to be fair, the last time he'd held it, he was... smaller.
It was hard not to reminisce. He was holding what was quite literally a blast from the past. A physical manifestation of what used to be but was no longer. Back when he and Kylar were inseparable- now forbidden to even interact.
The crystal was strikingly similar to... his eyes. A striking, deep green. He held it up to the light, noting the way it caught the rays. Yeah. Definitely a similar color. In the library, with their limited interactions, Kylar's eyes bore into him like that.
A bittersweet feeling washed over him, twisting his insides as he looked at it. Sydney sighed, before deciding to bring it along with him, back to his room. He could use it as a paperweight, or something. It could also... just sit on his desk. And be a reminder of good memories, right?
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â The Library â
kazuha x gn! reader
prompt: - you and kazuha attend the same university, him being a english lit major and you being a person in stemđ your paths never crossed until that day in the libraryâŚ
*this is an smau so please do expect a lot of twitter posts and messages to read, there will be proper writing too but, it will mostly be that!!*
warning! this is written from a narrative perspective as opposed to one of the characters like always, angst to fluff :)
masterlist - prev | next
â the library. â
the vibrations of the large oak door resounded throughout the old building. it was late, quiet, not even a soul to whisper.
aside from our two lovers, our twin flames, roaming the darkened halls in hopes of finding their missing half.
one, lacking of hope
the other, hopeful
how can two beings so different be so perfect for one another?
his white locks glistened against the focused light of the lanterns strung up across the building, he was a man on a mission. a man looking for them.
sniffle
it was a faint disturbance in the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the halls. how could he ignore it? he listened closer, holding his breath, anything to figure out who or what it was
sniffle
there it was again.
crying.
he began to move closer towards the noise, aiming to find the source.
and luckily, or maybe even sadly, he did.
for in the corner of the raggedy old library, sat the person he was looking for, curled up upon themselves, crying into their own knees.
his heart felt as though it had shattered into a million pieces, for what could be worse than finding the one you love, crying, because of you.
ây/n?â he whispers towards their shaking body.
it stops. everything stops. nothing moves. almost as if the whole world is at a standstill, waiting for their reply.
âhiâ itâs quiet, a bit hoarse, but there. theyâve replied.
slowly, the young man crouched done towards his old friend, taking a seat next to their frail form.
âcan we talk about it please?â
one sentence. one sentence that could both ruin and fix this all, depending on their answer.
a few beats of silence followed the lingering question.
one beat
two beats
three beats
before finally, the crying figure, offered a response.
âi supposeâ
finally, after all this time apart, after all this waiting, he could finally hear their voice again, perhaps even hear the laugh that made his heart soar.
âbut firstâ they continued, and he listened.
âwhere were you? we was meant to meet out there, you was late.â it seemed as though they were holding back from saying something.
perhaps they shouldnât have held back.
âi was held back by my professorâ the young man replied.
âi was unfocused in class, i-â he stopped, should he really continue his sentence. would they really want to hear this?
well he canât make if any worse.
âi was too busy thinking about you. what i should say to you, how i can ever apologise for the wrong i have caused youâ he whispered ever so slightly, reaching out his hands towards his love.
after all, they need to know what it is they do to him.
âyou mean so much to me, y/nâ he continued
âmore than iâm sure you could ever even imagine, i think of you all day and all night, at all corners and ever second, i am thinking of you. i am thinking of your smile, of your laugh, your voice, and the beautiful words you speak to me. i think of your humour and how you may think, of questions i would like to ask you, things i need to know about you, you plague my every thought, y/n. and i wouldnât change it for the worldâ
his friend stares up towards their hope, towards the man they fell for. their eyes travelling down towards his lips, wondering how they may taste against their own, how he may hold them. but, one thought plays through their mind on a loop.
one that started this all.
they pull their hands from his grasp before averting their eyes towards the ground. they wipe a few stray tears from their cheeks, before whispering.
âwhat about your girlfriend?â
silence fills the room once more. though y/n cannot sit in silence, for y/n knows that silence can only ever be bad
âi donât think sheâd appreciate you telling another person thatâ
his breath hitched. confusion coursed through his veins, though he knew that he alone would not figure this out, and the longer he waited to answer, the more skittish his love got.
so he replied with the one thought that was consistent in his mind.
âwho?â
now it was their turn to be confused. their head shot up in shock, how could he forget his own girlfriend.
âthat girl you was with outside the science block a while back, you kept implying you wanted me to meet her, your girlfriend. i was hurt that you felt as though you couldnât even mention that you had one, after all-â they stopped.
theyâre already digging themselves a hole, whats the harm in making it a little bigger
âi thought we were close, i thought we had somethingâ their eyes drifted back to the ground as fresh tears blocked their line of sight
they didnât want to hear his answer, to them, it could only be bad news.
he faltered but, quickly recovered.
âyou mean kokomi?â
so thatâs her name huh?
wait.
they recognise that name, kazuha has spoken that name to them before. but, when?
âsheâs my roommate, y/n. sheâs been gone for the term, so i figured iâd finally introduce you two, after all, she was who i turned to when i needed to talk to someone about you.â
thatâs where theyâve heard it. at the beginning of the term, during their movie date in kazuhaâs dorm. he told her all about kokomi.
âare your roommates okay with me being here right now?â i turned to him at he led me towards the living area
âoh theyâre fine with it, i mean gorou and kokomi arenât even here todayâ
as they had sat on the sofa, they had questioned who kokomi may be, and that was when they realised just how wrong they were.
âkokomi is gorouâs girlfriend, i swear that man follows her around like a lost puppyâ
their eyes drift back up to the young man.
âkokomi, as in gorouâs girlfriend?â they asked, they had to make sure they were remembering correctly.
âyeah, thatâs the oneâ he confirmed
their whole world came crashing down, all this time, all this time they had been jealous and upset, over a small misunderstanding? over something that wouldâve been fixed had they just answered kazuha the first time he asked for them to meet kokomi?
âkazuha, i am so sor-â they began, but was quickly cut off, by none other, than the man they was trying to apologise too.
âdonât apologise, y/nâ he collected their hands back into his own.
âi wouldâve been upset too if i had thought what you didâ he pulled himself closer to their form, cautiously raising a hand towards their cheek. wiping away their tears.
âwe are close, y/n. we do have somethingâ he confirmed for his love, their face beginning to redden.
âi would like to show you, just how close we are, my dearâ his eyes flickered down to their lips, âif you will let me?â
a/n - PFFT- iâm nice but, i aint that nice. yaâll got the fluff that you wanted back, but, if you wanna see what lover boy over there means, you gotta wait a week, sorryyyyy :P
iâm kidding, i love you guys but i did have to end it there so that i acc had something to write in the next chapter-
taglist - OPEN! @kazuhaprnt @ryhie @scaraapologist @thissoulisnotok @kazuhalvrr @rifran @sleepyhamster1001 @mccnstruck @micahmxi @whipped-for-fictionals @sashiette @kozumieee @lazy-sanns @mangobee @lez-zuha @kaoyamamegami @hedonesstuff @oliver-s-worlds @phoenix-eclipses @lisaslittle-helper @serafinaspost @richxelle @ansaturn @neigesprincess @atlaincorrect @ilovekazuha271 @obeythehemmings @4leyn3 @giggles8899 @samyayaya @zomzomb1e @duckyyyx @luminescent-light @scarletttcroww @jasxiao2317 @kanaqwqbear @floating-inthevoid @forget-artemis @fishformaira @hangecanweholdhands @eurekatanya @tamikahoshiko @jan-penakulu @anon-who-cried
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đđŁ đżđ§đ¤đŹđŁđđŁđ đđŁ đżđđđŠ đŁđ
What started as merely a brotherly feud had quickly evolved into a devastating bet for Karamatsu. Everything was on the line; his money, his persona, and even his romantic confidence. Can the mysterious woman across the fishing grounds help him with his debts?
SHIP: đśđĽDramaticsđĽđś (Karamatsu x Freedom)
WARNINGS: Swearing, bloodâs mentioned as an effect for a gag, and thereâs a single virgin joke. (That being said this isnât an NSFW fic, NOWHERE near it- Itâs⌠well, itâd be fluff if it wasnât so chaotic-)
AUTHORâS NOTES: Erm.. this oneâs definitely longer than my last fic⌠just a heads up lmao- Also this takes place before Freedom got her nickname, which is why sheâs referred to as âLibertyâ instead of âFreedomâ throughout this thing lol-
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The skies of Japan were once again painted with Autumn clouds, the softest breeze blowing through its capital. It would only make sense for its citizens to take advantage of the weather around them. Some would go on simple walks, and others would take their families out. One group may go to the oden stands, and another may go out for a round of pachinko. Strange enough, there'd even be people that'd head to the fishing grounds. Yes indeed, donning their cool-colored clothes, Karamatsu and Todomatsu would visit the grounds. Theyâd claim their staple spots and throw in their lines, waiting for a catch.
It truly was a day for relaxation... perhaps too much relaxation. Dozens of minutes would pass, and their lines would barely recieve any action. There weren't even any conversation topics that could fill the time in-between catches. They had no choice but to be stuck in the worst silence of all: the Familial Awkward Silence. The brother in blue would fidget with his sunglasses, and his pink counterpart would scroll mindlessly through his phone. The temptation to leave began to grow stronger and stronger, but if they left already, then that would mean they came all this way for no reason, and they simply couldn't have that. So even if they decomposed right in their seats, they could not leave until they had caught something.
A distant giggle suddenly snapped the two out of their boredom-induced zoning out. It came from the hill behind them, the source merely being a couple walking along the street. The two would scoff at the commotion; if this show ever bothered to give their eyes color, they'd most definitely be drenched in green.
Karamatsu sighed, pushing his glasses up; "It must be nice, being blessed by cupid's arrow. To be able to navigate this maze called life, with the compass that is a lover... they better enjoy it while it lasts". His raw jealousy leaked through his smiling teeth.
Todomatsu glared at his brother as he died from second-hand shame. "Why can't you just say you're a virgin?! How did you manage to make your situation sound even WORSE?".
Karamatsu winced from the directness of his unfortunate, self-brought reality; "But... surely someday, the gods will grant us a love never before experienced! We just need to pay for our inner sins". The poor man was willing to say anything to give himself an ounce of hope.
"Mhm, good luck with that"; Todomatsu dismissed him, turning his attention back to his phone.
"...you realize that goes for you too... right?", asked Karamatsu, flabbergasted by his brother's indifference.
Todomatsu shrugged; "Obviously, but I still have the best chance out of all of us to get a steady partner. I've gone on dates, after all". He slyly waves his phone as he spoke, conveniently having his list of (inactive) girls' phone numbers open.
"EH?! Well- well that doesn't mean the rest of us don't have a chance!"
"Karamatsu, have you ever even talked to a girl before?"; Todomatsu asked, with a faux-clueless look in his eye.
Karamatsu opened his mouth.
"That wasn't Totoko-Chan", Todomatsu added.
Karamatsu closed his mouth, furrowing his eyebrows in thought.
"Well... no- BUT that doesn't mean I can't!", spat out Karamatsu. But alas, he had a persona to keep up. With a snap of his fingers and a tilt of his head, he hid his embarrassment and replaced it with a poor veil of confidence. "As soon as I see someone that could truly handle my never-ending love, I'll happily approach them and show them how it FEELS to be one of my Karamatsu Girls, haha!".
Todomatsu shook his head; all of his brothers were shameful, but Karamatsu was on an entire other level. It'd sure be nice to knock that ego down a peg or two.. yes... yes it would be. Heâd just need to make Karamatsu realize that heâs not as suave as he LARPS to be, and surely he could! Their fishing lines were still dead after all; there was time to cause a little tomfoolery.
Todomatsu stood up, observing his surroundings. His expression remained innocently blank as he began pointing at the people around them: "Well, there's a girl right there, and right there, and there's a couple of them walking by outside! Plus there's probably all sorts of them on the street right now".
Totty walked in front of Karamatsu, staring down upon him. "If you want a chance so bad, there's a ton of them right here!". Though his face remained wide-eyed, his cheery voice couldn't have been more suspicious.
But alas, it worked. Karamatsu's eyes went white, sweat beads quickly forming into existence on his face. He had been outsmarted, cornered in a conversation of his own creation.
He turned away and shrugged, praying to whatever deity was out there that Totty wouldnât smell his fear. "Pl-Please! This is no environment to find love! The atmosphere is all wrong! There's too many old guys here watching. There's not even any scented candles! Is wine even allowed in this place-?".
DAMNIT! Totty was so close. He just needed one final push, his +4 card of arguments. And it'd finally hit him; his innocent facade would completely fade into a taunting smirk.
"Iâll give you money if you successfully get a date".
Karamatsu's head immediately snapped back towards Todomatsu.
"How much money?".
"I don't know. How much is in your card right now?".
"Eh? Wait, where are you going with this?".
"Well, if you actually do it, I'll just double it or something. But if you don't, then it'll all be mine, okay!?"; his devious smile beamed brighter than even Karamatsu's sequin pants.
All of Karamatsu's senses officially left his braincell. Deep down he knew he'd absolutely blow it, but both his ego and his money were at stake.
"Hmph... very well. Prepare yourself, young brother, for the lesson of a lifetime".
Karamatsu rose from his seat, taking glances at the people around. This, single-handedly, must've been the most intimidating moment of his life. He didn't want to risk embarrasing himself in front of anyone, and if HE considered something embarassing, then you know it must've been bad. But he couldn't let himself get distracted by these thoughts, not this time. Most of the girls he could've talked to just simply felt out of his league; they were surrounded by friends or seemed much too busy, or they were quite literally out of his league, being up the hill and all.
He turned to the front of him, catching sight of something... peculiar. Across the fishing grounds sat a woman with an entire folding table set up, art supplies scattered all across it. She glared at her notebook, barely paying mind to the fishing line set up next to her. Her headphones cut her off from the rest of the outside world; she seemed at peace, almost. Yes... she certainly seemed easier to approach.
"Hmm, you're considering her, huh?", Todomatsu asked as he walked to Karamatsu's side. "Yeah, she's been here even before we got here". Totty glanced at the woman's desk set-up; "The weirdest part is, I haven't seen her draw a single thing since we got here", he whispered.
Karamatsu pushed his sunglasses up, letting his hand cover his face as he posed; "Heh, maybe she just needs a muse then~".
Leaving his brother disappointed in his cheesy lines yet again, Karamatsu started navigating the fishing grounds to get to her. Though his stride started off confident, his sturdy form became shakier with every fishing stream he walked past. His eyebrows were furrowed, his mouth reduced to a mere squiggly line. It was taking everything out of him to not just rush back and sit at his original spot, but man... he really didn't wanna go broke. At least the girl was still focused on her notebook; he didn't have the added pressure of her watching him as he approached.
He'd eventually stop, only being a few feet from her desk; he couldn't even look at her directly, and he hoped that his sunglasses hid that fact. His chest rose and sunk quicker than ever before; it felt like his breathing was much too loud, but yet this woman still paid him no mind. Maybe this would be less intense than he imagined. He put on his signature smirk and slid himself to the side of her folding table. He didn't let his body face her, as he wanted to remain "coolâ and "mysterious". He stood there with his hands in his leather jacket's pockets. He felt sweat form along his face, flustering his thoughts even more.
"Heh... so.... out of all the fish in the sea.... out of all the fish in these very streams... we still found each other... isn't that interesting~?".
Karamatsu smiled, waiting for the girl beside him to respond. Seconds of silence went by; perhaps she was so enamored by him that she was left speechless? He looked over at her, only to see that her eyes hadn't left her blank notebook page. Her headphones were still on; maybe she just didn't hear him? He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, lightly gesturing towards her notebook.
"Hmm, maybe you could draw me a map of your eyes... because I'm already lost in them....".
Karamatsu opened one of his eyes, glancing at the woman. She hadn't even moved since the last time he looked at her. What the Hell was happening right now?! She... she was still alive, right? Like her music couldnât be THAT loud.
Karamatsu looked back across the fishing grounds, and caught sight of Todomatsu trying his hardest to contain his laughter. Karamatsu's face went white; he knew his finances were all going down the drain if he couldn't successfully talk to this woman. So what was he gonna do? He wasn't just gonna rip off her headphones, and if he tried leaning on the fold-table, the entire thing would surely fall over. He had no other choice; it was the least-romantic thing he could ever do, but he'd have to tap her shoulder.
His hand was shaking as it inched towards her, but eventually it'd reach its destination.
He tapped her shoulder: Once... and then twice.
The woman jumped from Karamatsu's touch, her eyes going wide from surprise. She tore her headphones off, slamming her notebook shut as her head jerked to face him. While the woman was surprised by Karamatsu's precense, Karamatsu was startled by her quick movements; both of them jumped back, practically in sync. Her hips would bump her table by accident, spilling many of her supplies onto the ground. She glared at her notebook through her sunglasses, watching as it landed right on the edge above the fishing stream. It was perfectly balanced; one half chilling on the ground, the other half hanging right over the water. She sighed dramatically, her hand clutching her nonexistant pearls.
"Stay.... sttaaaaaayyyy....."; the woman pleaded, like an owner to their rambunctious dog.
She kept glancing between Karamatsu and the notebook, unsure if this moment was even happening. Her face was incredibly red, her hyper-focused demeanor from a second ago suddenly flipped into a exaggeratedly-embarrassed expression. A similar statement could be said for Karamatsu; all he could do was stare at the woman, for his brain wouldn't let him think of any other action to take. And so he watched as the woman took a gentle step towards the notebook, staring at it with petrified eyes. Right as she took a step, the notebook slipped into the water.
"SHIT-"
She scrambled to the edge of the stream, dropping to her knees and watching as her notebook... floated at the top. Oh thank lord; that's what she gets for failing physics. Her notebook was perfectly fine, one side of cover was just a little wet. She reached to retrieve it, but heard footsteps behind her.
"Please~ Allow me", said Karamatsu as he kneeled beside her.
He got ahold of the notebook, and as he turned to look at the woman, he was greeted by her staring right back at him. The two flinched at the realization that their eyes met. The womanâs hand was still extended towards the book, almost giving the impression that she was reaching for his hand. Karamatsu relaxed his body; maybe this bet would work out just fine⌠maybe it'd work out a bit too fine. His mind truly got lost in the possibilities of this moment.
And it seemed that Todomatsu saw those possibilities as well, as he watched their shenanigans with a pale face. If his lamest brother got to hold a hand before he did, it would ALL be over. Karamatsuâs advances werenât supposed to succeed damnit! He had to intervene!
Todomatsu rose to his feet, gesturing to his brother from the other side of the fishing grounds; "KARAMATSU-!", he shouted.
The shouting snapped Karamatsu out of his star-struck trance, startling him enough to stumble. And thus, before he could process anything else, his body was submerged in the water... with the notebook still in hand.
The woman could only watch as Karamatsu fell in the water, getting splashed as she rose to her feet. She glanced around in the direction of the yell, locking her eyes with Todomatsu from the other side. This wasn't the same sort of connection as before though; her eyebrows were furrowed, her confused gaze hardened. Todomatsu caught her gaze, and sat back in his seat faster than her eyes could process. She quickly jerked her attention back to the stream, darting her eyes across its surface. She held her breath and waited for any sign that Karamatsu would come back up.
And alas, he'd emerge from the waters, even with a few fish clinging to him. In his hand was a soggy, sad excuse for a notebook, but it was her notebook nonetheless. He handed the book back to her, a shaken grin on his face as he tried to stand unbothered.
The woman stumbled over her words, her face red with plenty of emotions (90% of them being embarrassment); "I... Are you okay?!? That was- that was terrifying- Thanks though!!, I guess!?".
Karamatsu chuckled, slicking back his soaken hair; "Hmph, it was nothing~ I-".
He heard shuffling from behind him; the woman had seemingly dismissed his ramblings yet again. She was scrambling through her bag, oddly focused on what was inside. She seemed to notice that Karmatsu stopped talking, and she quickly turned back to him.
"Oh! No, I'm listening! I'm just..."
Her voice trailed off as she finished fishing through her bag, whipping out a hand-towel. She gestured it to him, practically staring through his soul. Karamatsu hesitated, being caught off-guard by the offering, but he accepted it. His grandiose gestures immmediately softened as he stared at the towel. Did... did this count as a gift from a girl?!? He began drying himself off, knocking the fish from himself and conveniently covering his blushing face. His eyes remained closed as he dried himself, but even if he didnât see the woman right now, he still heard her.
"I.. I'm just?? I'm so sorry man!! I just... I didn't see you- And I didn't hear you- And I definitely didn't mean for... all of THAT to happen-"; the poor woman was embarassed as hell, her voice getting incredibly shaky.
Karamatsu sighed, still trying his best to seem intriguing; "No, it's alright. Don't be sorry! It was just fate for us to meet like this, I guessâ. His tone became much more somber as he clenched his fist; âI just wish that I could've actually protected that notebook. Just the thought of all those pieces, now forever tainted. Their true, original meaning being only known to your memories and the goddess of time... The poor-".
The woman scoffed to herself with a smirk on her face, and though she tried her best to be quiet, she noticed that Karamatsu was glancing at her. He went silent again, and she took that as a cue to speak.
"Well... it's not like I really lost anything... so it's all good..."; she shrugged as she spoke, beginning to smile.
Karamatsu, meanwhile, threw the towel away and rushed to her side. He posed, almost leaning against her shoulder.
"Ah, but you can't say that about your works of art! I may have never seen them before in my entire life, but I just KNOW they leaked of raw, uncontrolled, passion. You put your heart, your soul, your blood, sweat, and tears into those works. There had to be something in there worth saving~!".
Karamatsu paused his antics to see how she would react. She was frozen, glancing up and down at him. Within an instant, she turned away, holding her face in her hands. Her laughing ensued, but what Karamatsu didn't see was the light pink on her cheeks. She'd eventually regain enough composure to look at him again, shaking her head as her hand still held onto her forehead.
"No... no... like there was literally nothing in there. I've been trying to draw in that thing for weeks, but I just couldn't come up with anything. I was hoping coming out here would do something for me, but... ya know..."; she gestured at the notebook, which was both soaked and still completely empty.
The two chuckled together, and as Karamatsu looked at her, he suddenly remembered his entire reason for being there. He straightened himself and cleared his throat.
"Ah! But... who do I have the pleasure of meeting today...?"; now that he was snapped back to reality, all he could focus on was the mission at hand. Unfortunately for him, the very idea of it made him nervous, and the dreaded sweatbeads had made their return.
The woman seemed to be confused by the question at hand, at least for a second. Her eyes would eventually light-up at the realization of what he was asking; "Oh!... I'm... Liberty! The name's Liberty".
She closed her eyes, too overwhelmed to make proper eye contact. She rolled her hand as a gesture for him to speak; "And you're...".
Karamatsu grinned brightly, filling in her intentional silence; "Karamatsu Matsuno, at your service~!", he said as he extended his hand.
His intent was to merely offer for Liberty to hold his hand, and though he didn't expect her to respond to it, it almost seemed to work. She hesitated, one eyebrow raised and the other furrowed, but she'd reach back to him...
"Well it's nice to meet ya, Kara", responded Liberty as she held his hand.... and gave it a quick, firm shake.
Karamatsu stared at his hand, dumbfounded by what just happened. The shake wasn't... entirely what he was going for... but it still technically counted as her holding his hand. His mind was swarming with thoughts, all of them blending together into static noise. One thought would congratulate him on taking a step towards leaving NEEThood, another thought was playing the sound of wedding bells, and plenty more were questioning the fact this was happening at all. What he didn't realize, however, was that he was muttering every thought he had. All though they were quiet and incomprehensible, they were still blatantly noticeable. Liberty tilted her head, releasing a confused chuckle.
"Are you good?", asked Liberty.
Her voice snapped Karamatsu back to reality; "AH! You-... Your art! I was just... reflecting on the fact that you draw! Yes... what does it look like anyway?". Perfect, he found his scapegoat!
Liberty rubbed her neck, glancing away from the man in front of her; "Awe, well... I don't know... it's like... anime-ish... I guess sometimes it goes into semi-realism." She sighed, reaching into her back-pocket; "Do... do you really want to see it-?".
Karamatsu's entire being lightened; "YES! No doubt about it".
Liberty giggled from his enthusiasm, an "if you say so~" being sung from her lips. She whipped out her phone and scrolled through her phone gallery, selectively showing her personal best pieces. Kara only asked to see as a cover-up for his mutterings, but... but these were actually pretty good-
"Hmm... not too bad... not too bad at all! FANTASTIC, even! STUNNING!"; Karamatsu's smile grew larger with each statement, even giving Liberty a little thumbs up at the end.
 As well, with every statement Karamatsu spoke, Liberty's gaze became more and more averted. Unbeknownst to Karamatsu, Liberty had a curse that plenty of artists shared: the curse of not being able to accept praise properly. He'd watch as she'd wave her hand and dismiss the praises, giggling uncontrollably and struggling to even form a sentence. His eyes widened, his mind trying to comprehend what was in front of him. He couldn't even have a comedic-reaction at this point; his mind was shooting blanks. It's not exactly like the sight of flustered woman was a normal one for him. He⌠he greatly enjoyed it.
Liberty sighed, blissfully unaware of the state Karamatsu was in. She finally recollected enough braincells to speak; "...Thanks... Thanks man... But yeah, I'd have more of this sortaâ stuff, but ya know... brain's been empty on ideas".
Karamatsu put a hand to his chin as an idea spawned in his head. With a snap of his fingers, he slid in front of Liberty, switching between an endless selection of poses.
 "Heh, then let me be your mine of inspiration; your pencil being the pickaxe!".
Liberty stared at him, utterly confused; "huh?".
Karamatsu froze and stared back at her; "what do you mean 'huh'?".
"I don't know... are ya... like⌠asking me to draw you?".
"...would you really draw me?".
"Yeah, sure!".
The willingness of her answer nearmost threw Karamatsu in shock, delaying the reaction of his ecstatic persona. He practically danced around her, almost tripping back into the water a couple of times. He sung his thanks to her, promising not to disappoint.
"Then it's settled! I shall be your model, your muse! A bit of charity work from yours truly~".
Karamatsu paused next to Liberty, glancing at her with a bit of a concerned look; "This... isn't going to cost me anything, right-".
Liberty facepalmed as she turned to face him. She was using every force imaginable to hide her smirk, though she was failing quite miserably.
"No, Kara, you need to give me your entire life savings. Hand it over"; she extended her hand, gesturing for him to give her his wallet.
Karamatsu choked, the sticker shock of this commission making him cough up an exaggerated amount of blood. He collapsed and Liberty jumped back, barely preventing her purple blouse from turning a shade of red.
"GOOD GOD KARA, I WAS KIDDING-".
He immediately got back up, his body being completely unfazed. He rubbed his neck, his face donning a reddish-hue from embarassment; "Ah... of course-".
Liberty smiled at him, a pitiful attempt to make him feel less awkward. She'd turn her attention back to her phone though, opening her notes app and beginning to type; "So, what'dya want me to do for this? You got any specific poses in mind, or...?".
"Hmph, I have plenty of ideas for you. We could do this, or this one, or even this one"; he slid back in front of her, switching through poses at a much quicker rate.
Liberty began typing furiously on her phone, trying to describe each one of Kara's poses in substantial detail. But alas, her fingers just weren't fast enough. She shook her hand at him, calling for him to wait a damn second. He'd pause for her, and she'd proceed to type. A flick of her wrist signalled for him to switch to another one, and she'd type again. This process would be rinsed and repeated plenty times, enough times for the both of them to enter an auto-pilot sort of mode. By the time Liberty refocused herself... the amount of concepts typed in her notes was enough to make her app lag. She scrolled through them all, nodding to herself.
"Well... well I definitely have ideas now... I'm sure I'll be able to pick one from these 50-billion concepts...". A genuine smile grew on her face as she glanced back at Karamatsu, who was still swapping through poses. "Hey... thanks man... I really appreciate it-".
The sound of proper praise snapped Karamatsu from his modeling trance. He seemed to have forgotten where he was for a second, but he regathered himself rather quickly.
"It's no trouble at all..."; he smirked as he waved his hand dismissively.
"Yeah, well, I still appreciate it. You've been a real help man!". Liberty grew a teasing smirk as she walked towards him and draped her hand across her forehead. "Perhaps you were the angel I needed today. A true muse sent by the forgiving hands of God, mm~?".
Liberty giggled at her imitation of his character, but Karamatsu was stunned from the display. He couldnât tell if it was genuine praise or a mockery of his attempts at poeticism, and frankly he didn't care. While Liberty conveniently faced away from him, he covered his mouth and fidgeted with his sunglasses. The sound of her continued speaking jerked his attention back to her.
"Alright... so what'dya want me to do once I finish this thing? Am I just dropping this off at your house, or-".
Karamatsu had no hesitation in answering; his brain was being ran by adrenaline at this point. The sudden boom behind his answer jumpscared Liberty, making her take a step back; "YES! Yes! You can... definitely do that". He held his hand out expectantly, "But I'll need to give you my address~".
"Yeah, yeah, hold on". She rolled her eyes and smirked as she opened a new notes page. "Just go ahead and write it in here, and give it back to me when you're done".
She handed her phone to Karamatsu, being caught off guard by a terrified noise. Her and Karamatsu turned their head to the sound's direction, seeing a petrified Todomatsu across the fishing grounds. He made eye contact with them, immediately shifting back into an emotionless gaze towards them. Liberty turned away with a shake of her head, meanwhile Karamatsu was becoming enthralled with the device in his hands. No wonder Todomatsu freaked out; he finally got to feel how Totty feels whenever he's giving his phone number out... well... it was similar-enough feeling anyway- Karamatsu typed the address in as lightly as humanly possible. He seemed nervous to break the phone, or to even taint it at all.
Curiosity began swarming his mind though... what did a girl's phone even look like? Her phone case was various shades of purple, looking like one of those spilled-paint art pieces. The thing also had... glitter in it? It matched her outfit's colors, but the design seemed almost too cutesy for her; needless to say, Karamatsu was obsessed. He couldn't help but wonder what her wallpaper was... or the sort of photos she took; hell, he was curious enough about what other notes she had in that phone. He had a fight with his inner demons on whether he'd try to secretly snoopâŚ
Liberty noticed he stopped typing, and extended her hand out to him. She glanced away from him, trying her best not to seem demanding. Karamatsu sighed, and placed her phone back in her hand. Those sort of questions could be answered another day, he supposed.
"Sweet! I guess I'll... stop by sometime then..."; Liberty was unsure about the entire idea, but a soft smile was still carved into her face. "But uh, I guess I should probably start on this! I should be done with it by... I don't know... Saturday? Is that a good time to invade your house?".
"Mhm. Sounds perfect~".
"Great! Or, perfect, I guess. I'll try to stop by in the afternoon, but you never know what'll happen, right? But until then⌠Iâve got a masterpiece to work on~!â.
She began putting her set-up away, somehow fitting it all within her over-shoulder bag. Truly, the workings of this franchise's logic were an enigma. She headed for the exit of the fishing grounds, giving a quick salute to him as a farewell.
"See ya later man!".
Karamatsu watched as she walked out, noticing the slight skip in her step as she left. She seemed to be muttering something to herself, and though he couldn't understand what it was about, he could at least tell it had a happy tone. That went over decently well, he thought.
That being said... what the HELL just happened to him?!? He began jumping around, pumping his fists and laughing joyously. A dramatic "YAHOO!" belted from within him, probably loud enough for Liberty to hear outside the grounds. His cheering was interrupted by a yank backwards; Todomatsu had spawned right to his location, and he wanted answers.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!? WHO'S NUMBER DID YOU GIVE HER, THE HOUSE NUMBER?? WHAT'D YOU D O?!??!?", said Todomatsu, having a crisis over his plan backfiring.
"Relax brother, relax. I didn't write a phone number in there, just our address".
Todomatsu's expression went blank for a second, having to process what his brother just said; "Our... our address? What is she even coming for? Is she picking you up for somewhere?!?!".
"Nonononono! She's just dropping something off for me!". Karamatsu smirked; "She's agreed to create a work of art for me, heh~".
Todomatsu raised a brow, all of his fears immediately being tossed through the window.
"So... so you're not going on a date?".
Karamatsu sighed; "No... but that's alright. The next time I see her, I'll surely sweep her off her feet. You should've seen her, dear brother... she was obsessed with me. Every word of mine had her begging for more-".
Karamatsu cut himself off, noticing the drastic change in Todomatsu's body language; "Why... why are you smiling like that-".
Todomatsuâs eyebrows raised, giving him the slyest expression known to man; "Because you lost the bet~".
Karamatsu went dead silent. He⌠he kinda forgot about the bet for a minute there- His brain went into overdrive, getting even more shocked once he processed Tottyâs words; "EH?!? HOW DID I LOSE?!? Did you not see how well that went?!".
"The bet was for you to get a date Kara, not to get a commission from some starving artist".
Todomatsu giggled, reaching into Kara's pocket and yanking his wallet out for himself. He ran off, staring at Karamatsu with a shit-eating grin.
"Thanks big brother~!".
Karamatsu called for his brother to come back, but in a flash Totty took all of his fishing gear and left. Karamatsu stood in place, his arm reaching out for a brother he knew would never return. He sat down defeated; his rollercoaster of emotions was all for nothing.
Or... maybe that was too harsh of a sentiment to have. There was a certain warmness inside him that he hadn't felt before. Even minutes after the entire encounter, his face was still visibly warm. He wasn't really sure how he felt. Was this how true love felt? Was he just riding off the high of being close to a girl? He couldn't decide, but maybe that was alright for him. He knew he liked her in some form though, and he knew he couldn't wait for Saturday to roll around. He was excited, perhaps inspired. This could finally be the start of the mutual-pining, suspenseful romance heâs wanted all along! Or it could just be another disappointment, but the chance it could work this time⌠thatâs where the fun was.
If only he knew how reciprocated those feelings were. Along the streetside walked Liberty, an aura of excitement surrounding her. She came to Japan for a specific purpose, but never in her life would've she expected her plans to come together so smoothlyâŚ
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Dialogue prompts for a story/oneshot/book/fanfic ect.
- âbring me to your leaderâ âyour taking to him/her/themâ
-âI donât know if you gentlemen pray, but now would be a good timeâ
-âIâm trying my best to be polite but if you move that knife a centimeter closer to me I will tear you apartâ
-âhow long have you been standing there?â âLonger then you would likeâ
-âdo you trust me?â âNo.â âSmart man/woman/personâ
-âwhatâs out exit strategy?â âOur what?â âOh my god were all gonna dieâ
-âI donât trust demons all they do is destroyâ âwe could say the same thing about you humansâ
-âthis is a nice change on scenery.â âItâs a prison cellâ âI was being sarcasticâ
-âyou said this place was built to imprison something. What was it?â âMe.â
-âwhy should I apologize for the monster Iâve become? No one apologized making me this wayâ
-âis it still murder if i I give them a heads up?â âThatâs called a threatâ âdamnâ
-âkill me if you must but I will not bow to a king with a crown studded with jewels of every soul heâs killedâ
-âI was a kingâ âand I was a god.â
-âeverything here can kill you, but I can do it most efficientlyâ
-âI love you from the bottom of my heart.â âBut I donât trust your cooking, get out of my kitchenâ
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