Work Text:
The room is quiet, save for the low hum of the air conditioner. He rummages through the stationery compartments in his desk to retrieve a metallic case. From it, he takes out a black marker pen, which he uncaps with a soft pop. He brings it to the calendar on his wall and draws an 'X' over the current date. He feels his chest tighten as he glances at the next day's markings — the date has been encircled in a rich bright red, with a small note written neatly within it:
"10AM, the usual place."
He purses his lips as he places the cap back onto his marker and returns it into the pencil case.
He moves away from his work desk and towards his wardrobe, pulling open its tall white doors to reveal his modest collection of clothing. He stares at the clothes before him, glossing over their colours and patterns before gingerly plucking out a crisp blue shirt.
He inspects it for a moment, noting how he needs to iron it. Just as he's about to pick some jeans to match it, he stops to shake his head and grumble.
"No, I'm pretty sure I wore this last time," he thinks to himself as he sets the shirt back inside his closet.
He takes out a grey sweatshirt and he frowns, deeming it "too casual". He starts randomly pulling out garments and trousers and plaid fabrics and denims. His sweaters are soft to the touch and his jeans might have been too stiff, but everything turns out looking too odd and drab and uncoordinated.
He dutifully folds and arranges everything he'd taken out and shoves them back into the closet — not forcefully enough to ruin the clothes, but just enough to air out his annoyance.
He decides to lift an entire stack of shirts out of the dresser and he splays them on his bed, squinting and scowling at every option presented to him. A mustard shirt and burgundy cardigan combo receives his approval for some time, but as he starts mapping out the rest of his outfit, feelings of uncertainty creep up on him. Is the shirt too plain? Will the cardigan make him look overdressed? Isn't it going to be really humid tomorrow?
"I give up."
He flops onto his bed and groans as the pile of clothes on the mattress cushions his fall.
He allows himself to think about other things instead, like how he's finally (temporarily) free from the headaches of schoolwork, and that he doesn't have to deal with working alongside shameless deadbeat groupmates for a while. The reminder is enough to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead and bring a relieved sigh out of his lips. He folds his hands over his stomach as he mentally charts out his plans for the break, which, if reality would allow, he hopes to spend doing absolutely nothing, albeit in the company of his childhood friend.
"Yamaguchi," he hums to himself, letting the name linger in his mind as he closes his eyes in thought.
It's been a while since he'd last seen him. After graduating from high school, they both chose to go to different colleges, but despite the distance between their campuses, they still made a point to meet up every now and then. Rather, Yamaguchi made a point to meet up regularly, since he constantly took it upon himself to make trips to Tsukishima's part of the neighborhood.
Either way, he knows Yamaguchi won't care about his clothes. They've hung out with one another while clad in tattered shirts and threadbare boxers countless times before, and their appearances did little to affect how they interacted together. If anything, it only attested to how comfortable they were in one another's presence — but that's exactly what's been bothering Tsukishima as of late.
He supposes it all began when Yamaguchi got his first piercing. It was an innocent silver stud on his right earlobe that "didn't hurt at all," or at least that was what Yamaguchi assured him after the other boy had seen what was surely a look of shock on Tsukishima's face. The tiny thing glittered in the light, immediately capturing Tsukishima's attention whenever Yamaguchi so much as tucked his dark hair behind his ear.
It's been several months since that first earring, but it remains to be something of a novelty to Tsukishima. His heart flutters each time he looks at it. It hurts to even admit it to himself in private.
It felt so shallow to be entranced by a piece of metal, but the jewelry had been enough to spur him. He'd known Yamaguchi for most of his life that the gradual changes in the other's appearance were lost on him, and the piercing practically forced him to really see his best friend again.
It was easy to study the curve of his smile, but it still didn't stop Tsukishima from looking at it intently each time Yamaguchi so generously offered one. The way Yamaguchi's nose scrunched up whenever he laughed too hard was something he'd always noticed, but it wasn't exactly something he'd originally thought would be endearing. It was almost surprising to take in how Yamaguchi's jawline had already begun to lose its youthful softness and how, in a certain light, it almost looked like he had a dimple on his cheek.
But then again Tsukishima knows that if he stares for too long, his eyes could easily play tricks on him. He quickly realizes that time slips away when he's caught up relearning Yamaguchi's features. It's only when Yamaguchi turns to face him that he starts to feel self-conscious of his actions, but not enough to dissuade him from doing it again in the future. Once the initial awkwardness and surprise faded, Yamaguchi began to playfully tease him about it, moving to ruffle his hair as he always did whenever they were alone together, but even that didn't feel the same anymore. Was it the faint hint of red on his speckled cheeks? The soft, final pat that he sets on Tsukishima's head before bringing his arm back to his side? Or was it the fondness in the other's dark eyes each time he did so, or was Tsukishima just imagining that too?
Or has it always been this way?
Whatever it is, it's taking up all of Tsukishima's energy to not combust on the spot. Trying to find meaning in gestures that might not even have any hidden intentions at all is proving to be exhausting.
It just hasn't been comfortable to be with Yamaguchi lately. When they're together, Tsukishima constantly feels like he's burning from the inside.
Even so, he finds himself looking forward to spending a day with the other boy. He desperately wants to at least look decent for it.
"What are we," he whispers as he gradually opens his eyes and turns over to his side before pushing himself into a sitting position. "No, no, that's too direct," he lectures himself.
With a dejected sigh, he stands to collect his clothes.
"How do I even bring it up?" he asks no one in particular as he sets aside a white button-down that his older brother had given him for his birthday last year, and he silently hopes that he'd still feel like wearing it when he wakes up in the morning.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask," he tries again, scoffing to himself as he adds, "for almost half a year now."
He slips the shirt into a hanger and hooks it onto the handle of his dresser. He averts his eyes, fearing that if he stared at his selection for any longer, he'd start regretting his choice yet again.
He walks over to his window and stares out onto the street below. In his head, he continues to rehearse different lines and scenarios as his eyes idly follow the paths of cars and strangers. The people on the streets walk leisurely as the traffic lights blink green and yellow, then red and green again, and just as a car signals to do a U-turn, Tsukishima's mind does a 180 and instead starts daydreaming. His thoughts alone are enough to make him feel warm.
"Tadashi, I think I—"
His phone vibrates in his pocket, dragging him out of his reverie. Tsukishima's face overheats as shame washes over him when he realizes just what he was seconds away from confessing, and the embarrassment doesn't leave him when he glances at his phone's screen and brings the device to his ear.
"H-hi, Yamaguchi."
"Good evening, Tsukki! Did I call at a bad time?"
"No, it's fine. I wasn't doing anything important," he answers.
"Oh. Alright," Yamaguchi replies. "How was your night? Have you eaten dinner yet?"
"…No. I don't think so."
"Hey, don't forget to at least have a bite before going to bed, okay?"
"Sure," Tsukishima says with a smile teasing at his lips. "How about you? You were bragging about planning a hero's meal earlier today."
"That's right," Yamaguchi agrees. "I finally passed that essay that's been haunting me for weeks, so of course I treated myself to the feast I deserved!"
"Hmm," he hums. "How many happy meals are we talking, then? Two? Three?"
"I had six, Tsukki. Six," Yamaguchi says triumphantly.
Tsukishima laughs. "Isn't that the entire toy set, then?"
"Naturally! I didn't want to take any chances, so I got all of the Pokemon toys while they're still available."
"Did you finish all the food by yourself?"
"No way," Yamaguchi scoffs. "I left some of the burgers for my roommates."
"And the fries?" Tsukishima asks.
"Ah, I meant to leave some for them too, but they were all cooked just the way I liked it, and—" he trails off.
"And?" Tsukishima prompts.
"...I couldn't restrain myself," Yamaguchi answers with a sheepish chuckle.
Tsukishima makes a face as he replies, "Yuck. That's a lot of fries."
"I know. I feel kind of sick now, actually."
"Do you think you'd be fine by tomorrow?"
"Of course!" Yamaguchi is quick to reply. "I'm actually calling to confirm if you'd still be up to hang out tomorrow…?"
"Yeah," Tsukishima answers, trying his best not to sound overly enthusiastic.
"Okay, good!" Yamaguchi says, and his voice carries the smile that Tsukishima isn't able to see. "Have a good night, Tsukki! See you tomorrow."
"See you."
Yamaguchi cuts the call, leaving Tsukishima alone in the silence. He taps his phone against his mouth as he sets his eyes back on the world outside, gaze unfocused as he stresses over things and conversations that haven't even happened yet.
A bright light guides him out of slumber. His bed is a disarray of sheets and pillows, and he tugs his blanket over his head as he tries to eke out a few more moments of rest. His head reels with the afterimages of his dreams — but he wonders if they are just ideas that had morphed from his worries from the night before.
He is sure, at least, that he'd spent most of the night thinking about where he stood with Yamaguchi. He knows that they are friends. They've been friends for so long that it didn't feel like their closeness matched what was commonly considered as simple friendship. Did that mean they were more than friends?
Does he want them to be more than friends?
His thoughts stutter. He feels hyperaware of his cotton mouth.
What does it mean to be more than friends anyway? Was it possible that they had already moved on from that stage of their relationship? What does that make of them now, then? Where would they go from here? Were they supposed to go anywhere? If they were to go any further, does that mean he would be signing up for something he could no longer back down from?
The deceivingly simple development of "friends" to something else only invites feelings of unrest, and Tsukishima awakes feeling like he hadn't slept at all.
He curls up into a ball as he feels around his bed for his phone. He finds it lodged inside his pillowcase. He looks at the time that flashes on the screen — it's only seven in the morning. He deems it a tad too early to be thinking about proposing and marrying and growing old with his closest friend.
It's not like he hasn't already considered all of that before. He definitely hasn't been planning to have Yamaguchi in his life for as long as reality would allow, anyway…
Did Yamaguchi even feel the same way? Tsukishima may have started looking at Yamaguchi differently, but what if Yamaguchi had never intended on treating him anything other than a friend?
Tsukishima exhales slowly through his nose. He hasn't been awake for fifteen minutes and yet he'd already exhausted himself.
He unlocks his phone's keypad and opens his inbox, easily finding Yamaguchi's name amongst the messages.
"Good morning," he types out.
"Good morning!" Yamaguchi almost immediately replies, complete with a string of emoticons and hearts that makes Tsukishima's stomach feel funky.
He supposes it was his cue to get up and eat breakfast.
"I had a dream about you," Tsukishima types, still half-asleep. Before he hits the 'Send' button, he had the mind to actually rethink his words and he hastily erases the text in its entirety. Instead, he asks Yamaguchi, "Are you still feeling sick?"
"I'm all better now, Tsukki! Thanks for asking."
They continue to exchange messages even as Tsukishima shuffles out of his bedroom to pour himself a bowl of cereal. The notes are short and uneventful, but the conversation is engaging enough to keep him going, even when the whole thing devolves into an exchange of jumbled nonsense and carefully curated memes.
"I have to go catch the bus now. I wasn't able to charge my phone last night and I'm kind of running low on battery, so I'll message you again later once I'm at the mall!"
"Okay," Tsukishima replies.
He sets aside his phone as he washes the dishes in the sink. The water feels cold against his skin as he rinses the last plate, which he sets on a nearby dish rack to dry. He wipes his hands on a towel and leaves the kitchen to collect his personal toiletries. He includes a fresh set of underclothing along with the bath products he'd kept in a small green basket.
He brushes his teeth before entering the shower. The bathroom smells of lemon and rain as he lathers on his soap and shampoo, nearly tripping on the shower tile when he accidentally sends scorching water over his body for his rinse. He wastes no time in wrapping a bathrobe around himself before leaving to his bedroom.
While still undressed, he sits by his work desk and takes out a mirror from its drawer. He retrieves several bottles from a nearby shelf and, with meticulous care, he applies moisturizer on his face. He readjusts his bathrobe before he spreads lotion on his skin, going over each area slowly.
He puts on his clothes without much fuss, and it only takes him a moment to brush through his hair. It's only when he packs his 3DS into his handbag that he starts to feel his palms go cold.
No matter how many times he tells himself that it's fine, it's okay, there's nothing about this that calls for any sort of physical, mental, or emotional reaction; Regardless of how many minutes, hours, days he's spent conditioning his mind to remain calm; Despite all his efforts to keep his heart beat leveled — his hands are still sweaty, his throat remains tight, and his mind continues to buzz in anticipation.
It feels so unnecessary.
Tsukishima grits his teeth as he enters the mall and joins the throng of people that roam through it. His hands are in fists, blunt nails digging into his palm as he mentally chants "Stop. Thinking. Already." This was not something he had to get troubled over, and yet his nerves just wouldn't leave him alone.
As he nears the rotunda in the middle of the mall, he wills himself to look into the surrounding shops instead of just the floor. For a moment, he considers glancing at the people around him, but his knees go stiff just from the thought of it. He sees his reflection in one of the shop windows and he instantly feels distraught — what could have possessed him to wear such a pale pastel for pants when he was already wearing a white top?
His head starts to ache. His grip on his hand bag grows tighter.
Is he nervous? Excited? His head is a muddle of anxiety and fear that he couldn't be bothered to decode how he feels. He checks the time on his wristwatch and feels lightheaded— Yamaguchi should be in the mall by now. Tsukishima reconsiders his plans for the day, reasoning to himself that he should just wait for another opportunity to discuss things with the other boy, preferably during a day when he didn't feel like his lungs would give out any second.
His phone rings. His chest burns. He doesn't bother looking at the text sender's name.
"I'm here! See you in a bit, Tsukki!"
In the distance, he can see the signage of the arcade where they spent most of their meet-ups together. It glows brightly even in the daytime. He takes a deep breath.
Tsukishima resists the urge to make a detour to the toilet. Instead, it feels as though he is lifted through the crowd, with his legs mechanically leading him to his destination.
The distant hum of electronic machines grows increasingly louder. The cacophony of rhythm and dance games being played simultaneously echoed in his ears. His mind goes blank. For the first time in a week, he fools himself into thinking that nothing could go wrong. Something glitters in the corner of his eye, and his head immediately turns toward it. The person leaning against a post by the entrance of the arcade does the same, and before Tsukishima could even process who it was, his stomach already falls to his knees.
"Tsukki!"
He nods out of instinct. It's only a split second, but it's enough for Tsukishima to go over Yamaguchi's appearance. The other boy sports a riveted black jacket— it makes Tsukishima feel warm from just looking at it. When Yamaguchi walks closer to pat Tsukishima's back in greeting, the view of Yamaguchi's ripped skinny jeans doesn't go beneath the blond's notice. It is the wide grin on Yamaguchi's face that makes Tsukishima feel tingly, but he is somehow able to coordinate his limbs to follow Yamaguchi's lead.
"Wanna play a match?" Yamaguchi says as he gestures to the fighting game area of the arcade. "The mall just recently opened, so it should be easy to get a machine."
"Right," Tsukishima drones when the two of them notice the people that crowded the space.
The school break invited out hardcore gamers from all around the prefecture, and it was inevitable for Tsukishima and Yamaguchi to join the rest of the onlookers in watching the fast-paced technical matches that take place before them.
"I doubt they'd be over soon," Tsukishima comments when a newly-defeated teenager comfortably swipes her e-card for credit for a rematch.
"Probably," Yamaguchi sighs in defeat. "I thought we were here early enough, but I guess other people had similar plans."
They stay long enough to observe several other matches, pausing to commend a player's combo or note something about their play style.
"See, there's nothing special about Yamaguchi and I coming together like this. I keep worrying over nothing," Tsukishima convinces himself.
What Tsukishima doesn't comment on is how Yamaguchi inches closer when he talks, or how it tickles when he whispers "Tsukki, they might hear you" in his ear when he says something particularly critical.
He does comment, however, when Yamaguchi shrugs off his jacket.
"Ah, it was getting kind of humid," Yamaguchi says sheepishly. "It was cold when I woke up in the morning, but I should've known that it would be pretty stuffy here in the arcade."
"Uh-huh," is all Tsukishima could manage. It's not the first time he's seeing Yamaguchi in a sleeveless shirt. He doesn't want to admit that the sight of Yamaguchi's bare arms distracted him, but they catch him off guard him all the same.
Yamaguchi leans towards him and taps the inside of his wrist as he says, "Let's go play something else in the meantime."
Tsukishima loses track of the games they play. They start with an innocent round of Wangan Midnight races before moving on to finish an entire run of Time Crisis, and after that it just devolves into an endless cycle of "Do you think you could beat me at this game, Tsukki?" and "Ok, just one more rematch." The dancing games are particularly difficult to best, considering how Yamaguchi has more experience at those than him. He wasn't one to back down from a challenge.
When Yamaguchi points at a doll claw machine and says, "That plush looks so cute, but it just seems impossible to win it," Tsukishima doesn't even notice the dejected tone of Yamaguchi's voice. He just immediately zones in on the thrill of the challenge.
He takes his e-card out of his pocket and says, "I think I still have enough credit for one game."
"No way, it'd just be a waste of your money," Yamaguchi says with a shake of his head.
"I'll just try it anyway," Tsukishima adds with a wave of his hand.
He swipes the card onto the machine's reader. By the joystick controller, a small timer counts down from 60. He angles the crane directly above a fluff of yellow and takes a few moments to check the placement when viewed from the other sides of the machine.
"I think you should move it a little to the left, Tsukki."
"No, I'm sure it'd be okay like this."
"It looks kind of off-centered…"
"It'll do."
"But—"
"I thought you said it'd be impossible to get the toy, just let me make this mistake."
"I would've really wanted that toy, okay?"
"Then why didn't you say so—"
The timer runs out. The thin silver claw descends on the Pikachu stuffed toy. It grips it at three different points, pauses, then lifts the small mound to the side until the bright yellow tumbles down the prize dispenser.
"Oh. Oh wow," Yamaguchi says, visibly stunned. "You won."
"Huh. I guess I did."
"Wow, you won!" Yamaguchi repeats, this time slapping Tsukishima on the back. "I can't believe it, this is the first time I've seen anyone win at this. And at your first try too! Amazing, you're really amazing, Tsukki."
Tsukishima fights the urge to hide in his hands. He hopes the fluorescent lights didn't highlight what was sure to be a blush on his cheeks.
"It was just luck," he says quietly as he bends down to claim the stuffed toy from the hatch. He passes it to Yamaguchi. "Here."
"Eh?"
"You said you wanted it, right?"
"I mean, yeah, but you were the one who won it."
"You'd appreciate it more. You can have it."
Yamaguchi accepts the stuffed toy gingerly — the thing is only slightly larger than his hands, but he holds it in his arms like he couldn't grip them tightly enough. His smile is blinding as he says, "Thank you, Tsukki!"
For the umpteenth time that day, Yamaguchi makes him feel butterflies.
They give up on trying to play any of the fighting games. By the time they leave the arcade, it's already late in the afternoon, but even with the lateness of the hour, neither of them really felt like eating anything. They make their way to a cafe a few stalls from the arcade. Although the place is full of customers, they manage to grab a booth table just as a pair of customers leave the shop.
"I'll order our usuals, then?" Yamaguchi asks as Tsukishima takes a seat.
"Yeah, sure. I'll pay you back later."
"No need! It's my thank you for the Pikachu," Yamaguchi says with a smile. "I'll be back."
Yamaguchi turns on his heel to approach the counter. The cafe's dark interiors mesh well with Yamaguchi's attire, and his profile completely blends in with the surroundings. The smell of coffee beans and the sound of idle chatter eases Tsukishima quite a bit, and he notices that there's another couple seated next to their table — "Not like Yamaguchi and I are a couple," Tsukishima corrects himself. The other pair of patrons have chosen to sit next to each other on the booth seat — it obviously looks like they're on a date. When Yamaguchi returns, Tsukishima silently wonders why Yamaguchi chooses to sit on the separate, stand-alone seat across from him.
"The food should be here in a bit," Yamaguchi says as he takes out a shiny aqua blue rectangle from his pocket. "How about that match?"
The two of them start up a game of Super Smash Bros. Staring at his 3DS's screen and focusing on the movements of his opponent proves much easier than mulling over his frustrations.
The match begins with Yamaguchi taking the lead, but as time went on, it became increasingly easier for Tsukishima to land hits on the other boy's character.
"Are you going easy on me?"
"I'm not."
They play another match. And another. With each new game, it takes lesser time and effort to win.
"Then are you hungry?" Tsukishima asks as he glances from his Yoshi's winning pose to Yamaguchi's pale face.
"Actually, yeah, I think I am," the freckled boy answers. He plays with the tip of his bangs before combing it back with his hand, and the motion reveals the two small hoops of silver on Yamaguchi's left earlobe.
"Are you using new earrings?"
"Ah, you noticed?" Yamaguchi says with a smile that makes Tsukishima feel a tinge of embarrassment. "My new piercings already healed last week, so I thought it'd be a good time to switch them all out."
"Are you planning on getting any more piercings after this?"
"Maybe. I don't know," the boys answers with a slight frown. He shuts his 3DS closed as he adds, "I'm not so sure."
"Why?"
"I wanted my next one to be here," Yamaguchi says as he pinches the shell of his ear.
Tsukishima raises an eyebrow. It took some self-control to not raise both of his brows in shock. "And?"
"And I told my piercer about it, but she says that cartilage piercings take a really long time to heal, plus they can hurt. A lot."
"I thought you said ear piercings didn't hurt?"
"Just for the earlobe," Yamaguchi clarifies.
At this point, Tsukishima has already imagined a dozen different possibilities for how Yamaguchi would look like with an added piercing. He wonders if Yamaguchi would stick with just one, or if he would eventually go for more, possibly even an industrial piercing later on.
Yamaguchi looks away, a smile forming on his lips. From this angle, his eyelashes appear longer, forming faint shadows on his face. A shade of pink dusts over his cheeks, the warmth growing more apparent in contrast to the freckled hand that tucks stray tufts of hair behind his right ear, bringing all his earrings in a position where they could be better appreciated. Tsukishima notes the charm that dangles from one of the hoops — a small crescent moon.
"What are you smiling for?" Tsukishima asks mindlessly.
"I'm happy," Yamaguchi answers, but it sounds more like a question. He rubs the back of his neck as he says, "Thanks for thinking that piercings look good on me."
Tsukishima feels like a bomb had just exploded in his chest. He doesn't recall saying anything.
"Although I've been wanting to do this for myself, I haven't really been sure if it even suited me," Yamaguchi continues. "Knowing that you think it's okay makes me feel so much better about it already."
"Well," Tsukishima says slowly, "Did you set another appointment already?"
"No," the boy answers with a shake of his head. "I'm not planning on getting it any time soon."
"Oh."
"But, uh," Yamaguchi whispers, clasping and unclasping his hands on the table. "When I do, could you come with me?"
"Why? Do you need me to hold your hand through it?" he jokes.
"If you wouldn't mind," Yamaguchi replies with a playful grin.
Tsukishima feels his mouth go dry.
Yamaguchi clears his throat. "I wanted you to help me pick a stud for it, too. Considering how I wouldn't be able to change it for a year, I could use someone's second opinion on what to get."
"Uh. Okay. Let me know when you'll be going for it, then."
"Right."
"I'll just, uh, I'll go ask the waitress about your order," Tsukishima says, standing up before he could even finish his sentence.
Tsukishima wipes his palms against his pants as we walks over to the counter. The lady behind the cash register greets him with a polite smile.
Tsukishima relays his concerns to her — about the food, not his feelings. As much as he would've liked some help with the latter, he wasn't so bold as to ask for advice on that. She apologizes about the delay with the delivery, and tells him that their order would be served in about a minute or so. Tsukishima nods and says his thanks, and when he turns to go back to his seat, he's surprised to find Yamaguchi speaking with a girl.
Yamaguchi has his back towards Tsukishima, and although the blond is unable to see Yamaguchi's expression, he can clearly see the flustered look on the girl's face. Tsukishima swears he doesn't feel anything in his gut.
The girl brings her hands to her mouth, and Yamaguchi leans in closer to her in the way he normally did whenever he listens intently. As Tsukishima walks towards them, Yamaguchi stands and carries his seat to a nearby table.
"Tsukki, I hope you wouldn't mind it if we sat next to each other," Yamaguchi says once Tsukishima is close enough to hear.
The blond shrugs as he settles himself on the booth seat. "Sure."
Yamaguchi carries the remaining chair over to the table where the girl now sat together with a set of other young girls who clearly weren't old enough to be out of high school. The stunned starstruck looks on all of their faces are hard to ignore, and Tsukishima feels a weird sense of pride in the fact that Yamaguchi barely looks at any of them and yet the other boy could look at him with ease.
When Yamaguchi does in fact slide next to him in the booth seat, however, Tsukishima finds it difficult to look the other boy in the eye.
"Any news on our order?"
"It should be here in a bit," he replies.
He totally underestimated their proximity in this setup. Yamaguchi's elbow brushes against his, and their shoulders and hips touch slightly. The table is just wide enough to accommodate one person, and Yamaguchi has huddled pretty close to him. Should Tsukishima move away, he'll end up sitting too close to the couple seated next to them, and that arrangement would be leagues worse than this.
"I've set up the room now, Tsukki."
"Oh, okay," Tsukishima says as he returns his focus to his 3DS. They've decided to play Monster Hunter this time.
Two others have joined them on their hunt, and their cakes arrive shortly after they finish preparing for their in-game quest. Yamaguchi had ordered a small serving of a chocolate pecan cake for himself, and he'd gotten Tsukishima's usual strawberry shortcake order.
Their party spawns in a base camp by a cliff. Yamaguchi is quick to enter the area, and Tsukishima pauses to approach a supply box to retrieve items. By the time Tsukishima encounters the White Fatalis — a large, dragon-like creature — the rest of the group had already begun their offensive strategies.
"Don't mess this up for us again, Tsukki."
"You say that as if it's a common thing."
The monster fires a flame from its mouth, effectively causing damage on Tsukishima's character.
"Then are you saying it isn't?" Yamaguchi quips.
Tsukishima huffs. "Shut up."
"Don't worry, I'll save you if I have to."
"Am I supposed to feel thankful?"
"I can't tell you how to feel," Yamaguchi says with a muffled laugh.
As the hunt trickles on, Tsukishima tries not to get worked up by how Yamaguchi has shifted his body weight onto his shoulder. It's a comfortable pressure, but distracting nonetheless. The monster on the screen trips to the ground swiftly, and each member of their party rushes towards it. Yamaguchi mutters something, but the words are lost on Tsukishima — except for one.
He freezes. From the screen, he sees Yamaguchi's hunter launching herself mid-air. Next to him, Yamaguchi's body feels both soft and tough against his arm. Tsukishima finds his voice in time to say, "Is… Is this a date?"
"Wh-wh-what?" Yamaguchi gapes at him, cheeks blossoming red to rival the strawberries on Tsukishima's plate. Their eyes meet for a split second before Yamaguchi returns his gaze to his 3DS. His character has successfully mounted itself on the monster. "U-um, hold on, Tsukki, I can't exactly pause this."
Tsukishima nods as he waits and applies a power coating to his arrows out of habit. He observes how Yamaguchi frantically stabs at the monster more hastily than usual. He chooses not to comment on it since the other boy's actions efficiently incapacitate the monster anyway, allowing him and the rest of the party to attack with less inhibition.
The monster dies. The tension in the air doesn't. It takes a few minutes for them to carve the monster, collect their rewards, and respawn in the gathering hall.
The lack of activity makes his stomach churn. Just what exactly was he supposed to do in this situation? He decides to do nothing at all. Yamaguchi begins to fidget at his side. Tsukishima glances at the other boy's hands — they're shaking. Is it cold? Is he angry? Is he disgusted? Is he—
"I was asking you what date you'd be free next," Yamaguchi begins slowly, "to, you know, hang out. And eat. And stuff. Just the usual."
"Oh."
"Would… would that be considered a date?" Yamaguchi asks, keeping his eyes on his game. "It's too casual, right?"
"Uh, dates can be casual too, I think," Tsukishima says. Or at least he hears himself saying it. He can't exactly feel his face.
"Really?"
"I guess?"
Yamaguchi visibly gulps. He brings his hands into fists against the smooth leatherette of the seat. He turns to Tsukishima as he asks, "Do you think it'd be weird for us to date?"
Tsukishima opens his mouth and then closes it again. "Um."
"No, never mind, don't answer that. Why would someone like you even date me? The thought has probably never even crossed your mind, um, forget I even said anything," Yamaguchi laughs nervously.
He wants to say something, but his parched tongue feels large for his mouth and he can’t seem to figure out what might bring the colour back to Yamaguchi’s paling face.
Tsukishima moves his hand slowly, lightly brushing his fingers against the back of Yamaguchi’s hand. Yamaguchi whips his head towards him, eyes wide and face flush, but the tenseness in his hand loosens up enough for Tsukishima to link their pinkies together.
“It wouldn’t be weird.”
Yamaguchi brings his hand over Tsukishima’s and grips it before bringing it to his stomach. "Uh, Tsukki, I… I have to leave in a bit, so…"
Tsukishima clenches his jaw. "So…?”
The other boy clears his throat. He puts on a trained smile as he says, "How about some cake, huh?"
Tsukishima nods. He puts his 3DS back into his bag and robotically slices a piece from his shortcake. He takes his fork and sinks it into the soft cream, and he couldn’t even find it in himself to savor the taste of strawberry when his mind was full of static noise.
"Ah, Tsukki, you got some on your face."
"Hmm?" he says, immediately swiping his thumb across his cheek.
"Here, no, a little more to your left, um," Yamaguchi guides him. He purses his lips and takes a tissue from the table and asks, "May I?"
He wordlessly tilts his head towards Yamaguchi. The freckled boy lightly taps Tsukishima’s chin upward as he uses his free hand to gently dab the tissue against Tsukishima's cheek, wiping off the cream.
“Your hand was really cold,” Yamaguchi comments as he brings his own hands away from Tsukishima’s face. “Are you feeling cold? I could lend you my jacket.”
“I think I’m okay,” he replies. “It’s just my fingers that are cold.”
“Alright,” Yamaguchi nods.
"So you've been on dates before," Tsukishima says. He'd meant for it to be a question, but a part of him doubted that the negative would be true. He tries to keep his eyes fixed on his cake, but he couldn’t help glancing at Yamaguchi to see his reaction.
"Oh, well, they weren't anything serious," Yamaguchi says with an awkward grin. "I mean, you've gone on some yourself too, right?"
"…No, not recently. I haven't really had the time to go out and meet with people."
"You're here with me today though, Tsukki," he points out.
Tsukishima shrugs. "I don't mind spending time with you."
Yamaguchi stops playing with the pecan toppings of his cake. He lets out a chuckle. "Actually, I've only been on simulation dates."
He furrows his brows and looks at the other boy for an explanation. "Simulation dates?"
"Games. I've only dated pixels," Yamaguchi answers. "I didn't want you to think I was uncool, but since you were honest I decided I should be, too."
"I-it's no big deal. It's not like it's something we couldn't learn."
"Learn?"
"N-Never mind, I forgot where I was going with that," he lies.
Yamaguchi hums. Their knees brush. Yamaguchi tentatively rests his hand atop Tsukishima’s and Tsukishima grasps it before the other boy could move away.
"Okay, Tsukki."
They keep holding hands throughout their meal. If they found one another’s palm to be cold and sweaty, neither of them found it important enough to point out.
The sky is ablaze with vermilion clouds, contrasting the cool early evening air that blows past him. Yamaguchi’s idle chatter marks each step they take to the bus stop outside of the mall, which is mostly deserted save for the few birds perched atop a nearby trash bin.
The other boy has his jacket on again, and the dark material almost glows in the golden hour. Pikachu’s button eyes and sharp ears peek from Yamaguchi’s jacket pocket, and it’s an unnecessary piece of softness to his appearance. Yamaguchi’s expression is soft enough on its own, but his warm hand in Tsukishima’s is even softer.
"You're really smiling a lot, Tsukki."
"Wh-what?"
"You haven’t stopped smiling since you ate that cake," Yamaguchi says quietly. He lowers himself onto the metal waiting bench, tugging Tsukishima’s hand to urge him to sit next to him. "You're really happy when you eat cake, huh, Tsukki."
Tsukishima pulls his hand away from Yamaguchi. The other boy pouts a bit, but Tsukishima looks away before it could really have an effect on him. He uses his free hand to open his handbag and retrieve a square of tissue, which he uses to wipe the bench before sitting next to his friend.
“It's not the cake."
"Hm?"
The world feels subdued in that moment. The brisk air is bearable and the sun’s glare is pleasant enough for him to stare directly at — it’s the feeling in his chest that’s all-consuming, a sense of excitement that bubbles from his gut all the way to his heart.
"I'm happy I got to spend today with you, Yamaguchi."
A car drives past them. From the corner of his eye, he could see a family crossing the street, their backs turned towards him. It must’ve been quiet — all he could hear is the racing of his heartbeat.
He musters the courage to finally look at Yamaguchi. "Would it—"
His pulse hiccups. His body reacts before his mind does. One moment, his lips are forming words, and in the next, they’re pressed against another. It happens quickly, and Yamaguchi moves away before Tsukishima even realizes what just took place.
The sunset’s colours seep into Yamaguchi’s cheeks. "Ah, s-s-sorry, I just, I've always wanted to do that and— the mood— I felt like— I'm sorry—"
"N-no, it's okay,” Tsukishima stammers. “Me too."
"You're sorry?"
He bites his lower lip. He brings his hand to the bridge of his nose to adjust his eyeglasses, and he keeps it there in an attempt to hide his face from Yamaguchi.
"I've always wanted to kiss you, too."
Yamaguchi doesn’t move. He’s stunned, mouth agape before his lips curl up into the brightest smile Tsukishima has ever seen. The freckled boy laughs, and it coaxes a laugh out of Tsukishima, too.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off like that, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says. "What were you going to tell me?"
"Oh. Um,” Tsukishima bites the inside of his cheek and links his hands before his body. He isn’t quite sure where to look, so he settles with staring at Yamaguchi’s worn down sneakers. “Would it be okay if I thought all this was a date anyway?"
Yamaguchi playfully nudges Tsukishima with his elbow. He rests his head on Tsukishima’s shoulder as he answers, “I want to think this was a date, too.”
Tsukishima lets out a sigh, a mix of relief and suppressed laughter. "Do you want to stay over tonight? My flatmate's already gone back to his hometown for the break, so we can have the place for ourselves."
“I don’t know,” Yamaguchi mumbles, playing idly with the zipper of his jacket. "I feel like if I spend any more time with you, my heart is going to burst.”
“I think mine will too, actually.”
Yamaguchi snickers. "So, I'll see you again next week?"
"Yeah. Saturday."
"Okay," he says as he shuffles away from Tsukishima’s shoulder. “So it’ll be a date, then?”
“I guess so,” Tsukishima says with a smile. "Call me when you get home later."
"Sure," Yamaguchi says as he motions to stand, but Tsukishima grips onto the back of his shirt before Yamaguchi can even move.
"Is something wrong?" Yamaguchi asks. His eyes dart around the area as he says, "Did I miss something?"
"Actually," Tsukishima mumbles. "Is it okay if I have one more?"
"One more game?" Yamaguchi asks with a raised brow. "My 3DS battery won't last very long anymore—"
"I want one more kiss."
Yamaguchi’s mouth hangs open. "Oh."
"I was a little distracted the f-first time," he says barely above a whisper. "It'll bother me for the whole week if I couldn't remember the, uh, feeling… So…"
Yamaguchi smiles widely as he lets out a soft laugh. He takes Tsukishima's hands in his as he says, "You're so cute, Tsukki."
Tsukishima is ready to defend himself, but Yamaguchi leans in and claims his lips before he could utter a word. Tsukishima's mind goes blank, and all his attention is focused on how warm Yamaguchi makes him feel. The other boy raises his free hand to caress Tsukishima's cheek as he pulls away, breath ghosting on the other's mouth as his eyelashes fluttered against his skin. Tsukishima tightens his grip on the small of Yamaguchi's back as the other boy threads his fingers into his blond hair.
"I'm embarrassed," Tsukishima confesses.
"Me too," Yamaguchi replies breathlessly. "But I'm very happy."
Tsukishima smiles. He feels his teeth mash against Yamaguchi’s grin. "Me too."
Yamaguchi’s lips are softer than he imagined.
The apartment is quiet when he arrives. Tsukishima takes off his shoes and switches them for room slippers, taking his time before entering his room and shuffling through the stationery in his desk drawer. He takes out his red marker pen.
In neat script, he marks his calendar:
"10 AM, the usual place."
The smile on his face is starting to make his cheeks go numb.