Chapter Text
Sunday morning, 10:04 am.
Yamaguchi stayed the night that Friday. And Saturday.
Hell, he might even stay the night Sunday too, who knows?
Tsukishima sure hopes he does. In his head, of course.
And as Yamaguchi works up the courage to ask Akiteru, Tsukishima’s older brother, to pass the butter across the table at breakfast, he most definitely hopes no one is secretly waiting for him to pack up and leave either.
“Oh, can you pass the… the–” Yamaguchi manages as a single finger points to the butter. Akiteru lends him a fond tug of a smile, while Kei simply huffs. Akiteru hands him the butter and knife before he finishes his request. God knows how much Yamaguchi’s been suffering in silence for the past ten minutes, trying to slice his sourdough with a spoon.
“You don’t have to be so nervous, Yamaguchi,” Kei declares flatly, his eyes fixed on his plate. “You act like you’ve never been here.”
Yamaguchi flinches slightly at Kei’s words. Before he can let out another ‘Sorry, Tsukki,’ Akiteru adds his own two cents.
“He’s right, Tadashi,” The older Tsukishima brother offers Yamaguchi another gentle smile. “You’re here like, every other day. Our home is your home.” Akiteru takes another bite of his toast and flicks his gaze between the two boys.
“Ah. R-right…” Yamaguchi mumbles out. “Thank you… for always having me.” He rubs his neck slightly sheepishly, as if embarrassed he’s frequented the Tsukishima residence so much that he needs to be reminded not to be nervous.
A comfortable silence falls over the table (as comfortable as Yamaguchi can get), save for the sounds of utensils clinking against each other. Akiteru’s gaze lingers on his brother's friend.
“Hey, Tadashi,” Akiteru starts between bites. “How has school been?” Yamaguchi looks up from his food. Perhaps he owes him an answer more than a shaky ‘good.’
“It's alright for now…” Yamaguchi responds. “I mean, I’m doing pretty well in my classes, I think. And Shimada-sensei has been helping me a lot with my serves.”
Akiteru offers him a slight smile and nods as he speaks. Kei, on the other hand, has his default neutral expression as he sips his morning tea. The steam fogs up his glasses, momentarily making his eyes even more unreadable. No one speaks for a while after Yamaguchi’s response, except for a brief ‘that’s nice’ from Akiteru.
“You’re selling yourself short again, Yamaguchi.” Kei’s voice pierces the silence a moment too long after the conversation had already concluded. Akiteru doesn't react, already used to his younger brother’s bluntness, while Yamaguchi still can't read his friend’s expression through his fogged-up glasses.
“Huh? How so…?”
Kei finally gave in and removed his glasses, wiping them with the bottom of his pajama shirt. With his gaze never leaving his glasses, he sighed before responding in a tone bordering on mild annoyance.
“Your grades are the best they've been since middle school,” Kei declares flatly once more, listing his observations of Yamaguchi’s accomplishments like a grocery list. “Your serves have been making it over the net, which they always have, but now you don’t seem completely baffled when they do.”
“Well, I–”
Kei cuts Yamaguchi off before he can self-deprecate or offer some attempt at modesty. “You’re doing more than alright, Yamaguchi.”
More than alright. Yamaguchi wished he could believe his best friend’s words. He wished he genuinely felt “more than alright” — good, or even just content with his life right now. But he knew he had a long way to go for that; he always did. And Kei knew that, too. Perhaps even more.
And he wished he could bury the feeling that grew within him at the thought that Kei had been silently observing his friend’s accomplishments.
Yamaguchi gulps before admitting sheepishly. “Hah… I guess I am.” That was all he could muster out as he poked his breakfast around his plate with his butter knife. He knew better than to downplay himself when Kei was like this.
Akiteru simply huffs softly with another small smile before taking the boys’ plates, rising to his feet. “I've got these.”
“Ah, thank you, Akiteru-san!” Yamaguchi nods his head in gratitude as Akiteru disappears into the kitchen. Kei mutters a barely audible ‘thanks’ before pulling out his phone. For a moment, Yamaguchi just sits there twiddling his fingers. He’d reach for his phone as well, but last night he once again forgot to plug in his phone when he knocked out in Kei’s room. Doing what, he already forgot.
“You wanna do anything today?” Tsukishima’s neutral voice takes Yamaguchi out of his temporary daze. Tsukishima's gaze doesn't leave his phone.
“Uh, anything's good with me. Did you have anything in mind? I heard Kageyama and Hinata were thinking of doing some weekend practice later today–”
“Nah,” Tsukishima stops him. Yamaguchi didn't expect anything different, but it prompted a small snicker from him every time.
“Yeah. I figured,” Yamaguchi chuckles. “I guess we could stay home then. I should probably get some more studying in, anyway…”
“Mm,” Tsukishima hums in agreement, before rising to his feet and heading off to his bedroom, expecting Yamaguchi to follow.
“You should… probably stay the night again. Don’t pack up your stuff.”
Yamaguchi has to manually tell himself not to freeze at Tsukishima's soft, ever-so-casual request. No, statement. No, command…?
It was never an easy task for Yamaguchi to ask to spend the night, even though he'd done it dozens of times. Overstaying his welcome was probably one of his biggest worries when at the Tsukishima residence. So when his friend uttered those words over his shoulder, unprompted, and with the tiniest hint of what Yamaguchi swore was vulnerability…
How was Yamaguchi to deny him, or his selfish wishes to keep overstaying his welcome in Kei’s room?
“...I will. Thanks, Tsukki.”
“Hm,” Tsukishima hums in response. He proceeds into the bedroom, pretending to ignore the way Yamaguchi slightly tenses at his request, the way he always did when he asked/told his friend to stay.
“I plugged your phone in, by the way,” Tsukishima says flatly as he planted himself in his desk chair, flipping through homework papers. Yamaguchi’s eyes darted to where his phone was neatly sitting on the nightstand, charging. “You fell asleep on my shoulder.”
The smallest puff of a laugh and smile leaves Yamaguchi’s lips before flopping onto Tsukishima’s bed, muttering ever so softly and familiarly an apology he doesn't really mean.
“...sorry, Tsukki.”