Chapter Text
Tsukishima didn't write to his soulmate for three years.
Alright, maybe it wasn't the nicest thing to do, or the smartest. And it wasn't even intentional all of the time.
Sure, for the first few weeks after the game that shall not be named or mentioned, he purposefully wore all long clothes so that just in case Yamaguchi decided to write to him, he wouldn't have to see it. But he was distant with everyone during that time, especially his brother.
Plus, he couldn't take back everything he wrote about his brother to him. Every - false - spike that he said he hit, every - fake - game he won for his team. It was humiliating. Having his role model yanked so viciously from him and replaced with a lame weakling was jarring, to say the least, and he didn't want to talk to anyone who knew anything about it. It was too painful to think about.
Even after the initial embarrassment wore off, he couldn't bring himself to write the first word. He couldn't just pretend he didn't ditch Yamaguchi at the game and go radio silent for a month. In a way, he dug himself deeper into this hole by trying to avoid it.
It was a couple of months into this silence that he realized he was beating himself up too much about it. If Yamaguchi needed to talk, he'd know to write over, just like they used to. He didn't need to be the one to put ink to skin and take the first step. It might've made him a coward, but he wasn't one for overt displays of emotion. He'd deal with it as it came.
Three years later, and it almost felt like he didn't have a soulmate at all. He thought about Yamaguchi occasionally, of course, especially when other people asked him if he talked to his soulmate yet. They thought he was lying when he said yes, since he couldn't prove it, but Tsukishima was never one to care about something as immaterial as other peoples' opinions. And he knew it was far too late to write up with a quick "How are you?" like a distant relative trying to make conversation with a great nephew.
Soon it came time to choose a high school. Tsukishima chose Karasuno, not for his brother's sake, or even for the volleyball team, but because he heard the education there was good. Volleyball was a hobby, sure, but real life didn't wait for you to receive a few balls before college entrance exams.
He didn't know anybody from his middle school going to Karasuno, which he felt was an extra plus, since they got on his nerves anyway. They never dared try and pick on him, since he towered over the lot, but he could see them mentally mark him as an outsider. Good. That's what he was going for anyway.
So when he walked up to the gates of the school on the first day, glasses flashing in the sun, he wasn't expecting to see a familiar face. But no matter how much he fixed his glasses or rubbed his eyes, the figure in front of him didn't change. Black hair, timid expression, freckles.
No.
And yet, it was.
For the record, Tsukishima didn't act without thinking. He prided himself in always going through all possible outcomes, then picking the one that benefited him the most. It was how he got through the incident that won't be named, and all of middle school too. He didn't just throw all of his logic away for one guy.
And yet. Before he could think through what it would really mean, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. He wrote on the palm of his hand, so it wouldn't be visible to anyone else.
Look up.
Yamaguchi did look up, eyes widening before he even saw Tsukishima. He knew the moment he was spotted, because Yamaguchi jumped a foot in the air. He looked like he wanted to approach him, but he stopped himself, instead whipping out a pen of his own. Tsukishima only saw the words once they were on his own arm.
Can I come over?
It was an absurd situation, they both knew that, but Tsukishima rolled with it. Instead of writing a response, he beckoned him over with his hand, waiting patiently while Yamaguchi trudged over like a lamb going to slaughter.
"So about that time-" Yamaguchi started when he reached him. Tsukishima cut him off quickly, already feeling a rise of dread inside of him.
"I'd appreciate it if we don't talk about that. I apologize, it wasn't the right thing to do, and I hope we can have a fresh start. If not, I'll understand and stay out of your way. It's your decision." Tsukishima said all of this in a rush, having rehearsed it in his mind from those times he thought about reconciliation. He didn't expect Yamaguchi to forgive him, but this way at least he knew that he was remorseful about it.
Rather than walk away with a sniff, as Tsukishima would've done, Yamaguchi nodded. "I figured you'd say something like that. I was mad for a long time, but 3 years is a while to hold a grudge. I accept your apology."
He offered up a hesitant smile, and Tsukishima nodded back to him, the slightest bit of a smile on his own lips.
"Are you in class 3?" he asked, looking over his own schedule. Yamaguchi nodded. "Good, so we're together." He looked at his phone, pursing his lips. "We should hurry up so we're not late for class."
Yamaguchi followed him through the hallway, not saying much. It would be weird if their relationship was magically restored after one apology, but it was definitely a start.
Over time, Yamaguchi began to hang out with Tsukishima more, and as a result trust him more, too. They were a package deal, one rarely seen without the other. They made fun of Kageyama and Hinata together, they ate lunch together, they practiced together (when Yamaguchi could convince him to practice extra, which wasn't often). So it was almost surprising when Tsukishima found out that Yamaguchi was living with his aunt.
"Hmm? Oh, it never came up," he said aloofly when Tsukishima inquired about it. "Yeah, my parents were busy all the time, so they started dropping me off at my aunt's house for weekends. It was a lot nicer than living at home, so I asked if I could stay there. I moved all of my stuff there last year, so I'm pretty settled in by now."
Tsukishima's face softened with sympathy, which annoyed him because he didn't sympathize with anyone. He forced his expression to go back to normal and took a big bite of his sandwich. "Sorry to hear that," he said when his mouth was clear. "I was gonna ask if you want to have a sleepover at your place, so we won't need to run into my lame-ass brother, but we could have it at my place if you'd prefer."
Yamaguchi's face lit up, at either the possibility of a sleepover or something else, Tsukishima couldn't tell. "Really? I mean, I could ask my aunt anyway, she's pretty chill about things."
"How does she feel about sleepovers?"
"I'm not sure, I never asked."
An uncomfortable silence settled over them before Tsukishima decided to give up some personal information of his own. "I've never had a sleepover," he confided, as if it was a big deal. He didn't want strangers in his room, and other peoples' houses made him uneasy, so he never bothered trying. But it seemed important to Yamaguchi, so he thought he might as well try.
Yamaguchi's face cleared up somewhat, and the discomfort around them shifted into something rather different. The shared bond of two people who didn't have friends, for whatever reason it was. Common experience shaped human interaction, right?
In the end, they had two sleepovers, one at Yamaguchi's aunt's house, and the other at Tsukishima's. They both went smoothly, with Yamaguchi's aunt fawning over Tsukishima - which made him uneasy to the point of forced politeness, but it was all for Yamaguchi - and Akiteru and Tsukishima's mom asking Yamaguchi a dozen questions.
"So when did you two meet?" Akiteru asked, making Tsukishima scowl. He sounded too smirky, too smug. As if he proved something with Tsukishima having a friend.
Before he could try and spin their misadventure into something that wouldn't make his family yell at him, Yamaguchi spoke up. "Well since we're soulmates, we've been talking for a while, but we didn't meet in real life until high school started. Happy coincidences, right?"
Tsukishima gave him a weird look, but his family ate it up, so he didn't say anything then.
"Why did you lie for me?" he asked later, when they were both in bed, Yamaguchi on a futon beside his bed.
"I didn't lie for you. I lied for both of us," Yamaguchi responded, and rolled over, falling asleep quickly. Tsukishima, ever the insomniac, stayed up for a couple more hours pondering this. He still didn't get it by the end, but maybe he wasn't selfless enough.
It was the middle of the year when someone first asked him if they were dating.
It was Hinata, of course, since he had no filter or brain function whatsoever. Tsukishima could've ignored him, as he did with his dumbest questions, but he knew it would only bug him later. So he gave the simplest answer he could.
"What's it to you?"
It wasn't a secret that he and Yamaguchi were soulmates, so he didn't see the point in giving themselves any more labels than that. When the time came, they'd probably end up dating, just like whoever created soulmates intended. And truth be told, he wasn't dreading it entirely. He just couldn't see it happening anytime soon.
Tsukishima knew his rom-coms (they were all his mom played when she watched TV) and he knew "the signs of love". The people liked each other well enough, they wanted to spend time with each other, that was all great and good.
Then of course came the inexplicable urge to make out all the time and constantly be all over each other. That was where the line between friendship and dating was drawn, and Tsukishima was perfectly happy on his side of the line. He had plenty of time to figure out what that meant for him and Yamaguchi, but for the time being, he'd keep his hands to himself.
He brought it up to Yamaguchi the next day during lunch.
"At what point do we start dating?" he asked nonchalantly, looking through his bento.
Yamaguchi almost choked. "What? Where's this even from?"
"I dunno. We are soulmates, so it'll happen eventually. I'm just curious."
Yamaguchi's face turned scarlet, and he looked down at his lunch. "I mean, whenever we're both ready, I guess. I haven't thought about it much."
His reaction said otherwise, but Tsukishima didn't call him out on it. "And what if I'm never ready? Then what?"
Yamaguchi gave this some thought, his face screwing up. "Then I guess we won't," he said finally, looking up at him. "I won't force you into anything."
"Huh. Alright." And the rest of lunch went by without either one of them bringing it up.
The rest of the year passed by smoothly. Volleyball, classes, tests, studying. Somehow Yamaguchi and Tsukishima found time to hang out throughout, even during finals, when Tsukishima was taking an advil a day for migraines. Yamaguchi helped him through it, since he himself had anxiety. Tsukishima didn't, but he had a crushing fear of failure, and sometimes it felt worse.
One particular day, the two of them were studying for history, by far Tsukishima's biggest headache. He didn't see how he could bring himself to care about something that would never affect him or help him in any way. It seemed illogical to waste any brain space on it, and he hated anything illogical.
"When did the war start and end?" Yamaguchi asked, looking over his notes. Tsukishima strained his brain, but it was buried too deep for him to find. He was smart, he knew the stuff, so where the hell was it?
"I'm gonna get myself a glass of water," he said instead, rising to his feet. "Be right back." He didn't need to say that he didn't know the answer; Yamaguchi probably already knew.
When he got back, the notes were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Yamaguchi was sitting on the couch, TV remote in his hand. He beckoned Tsukishima over to join him.
"What happened to studying?" Tsukishima asked, not moving from his place in the doorway.
Yamaguchi shrugged. "I got overwhelmed. We can afford to take a break every now and then. Come, let's watch something. I'll even settle for one of your boring documentaries right now."
Lie. He was definitely lying. Yamaguchi's best subject was history. He probably already knew all of the information down pat before they even started studying. Tsukishima didn't need to be a genius to figure out he was doing it for his sake, for the sake of his pride. Yamaguchi knew that he would never be the first to call for a break, so he did it himself.
The thought sent a rush of warmth to Tsukishima's - allegedly - dead heart, and he sat down next to him on the couch, pulling up a "boring" documentary. Hey, Yamaguchi offered.
About halfway through - the owls were just learning how to hunt - Tsukishima felt a tingling on his arm. He looked up at Yamaguchi, but the boy was focused on the screen, definitely avoiding his gaze. He looked down at his arm, squinting in the dark.
You alright?
He almost snorted out loud. That was the secret message that Yamaguchi couldn't say out loud? He was tempted to ignore it, just to show him how weird it all was. But when he looked up again, he barely caught Yamaguchi's eye before it was turned back to the screen. He looked worried, and it definitely wasn't for the owls' sake, since they were the apex predators. Sometimes Tsukishima forgot that Yamaguchi was a lot more sincere than him, and would probably answer honestly if the question was posed to him. The least he could do was return the favor.
Reaching out his arm, he grabbed the marker that Yamaguchi always kept in his pocket.
Yeah, I'm good. We can go back to studying if you want
Yamaguchi read it, then yanked the marker back.
Let's finish this. I want to see what happens to the owls
Tsukishima nudged him with his shoulder, since this was obviously another lie, but Yamaguchi didn't move. Maybe he did suddenly develop an interest in owls. Tsukishima wasn't a big fan of them himself - that head thing was creepy - but if Yamaguchi wanted to stay, then he'd stay.
They settled back against the couch, shoulders brushing now, and Tsukishima felt his migraine slowly seep away. Maybe if normal life was like this, just him and his friend watching movies in the dark, then it would all be more tolerable.
"You know you don't need to be perfect, right?" Yamaguchi asked later, when they were packing up their things.
Tsukishima thought about it, then smiled the smile he made when he wanted people off his back. "I'm already perfect. There's nothing to try for."
Yamaguchi didn't respond to that, but he made sure to send Tsukishima a quick message once he left the house.
You're gonna ace the exam, I know it
Tsukishima didn't respond. When they got their grades back, and they both passed with flying colors, he didn't bring it up either, but he could tell by Yamaguchi's expression that they were both thinking about it.
It was a few weeks after that that Yamaguchi held Tsukishima's hand the first time. Or at least, tried to hold it.
It was completely unprecedented, at least to Tsukishima, who instinctively yanked it back with a bewildered look.
"Um," was all Yamaguchi could get out, face turning red at an alarming rate. "Sorry Tsukki."
"For what?" Tsukishima was still holding his hand out in front of him like it had leprosy, which probably wasn't helping the situation, but he couldn't very much help it.
"For, uh, ᵗʳʸᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ."
"What?"
"For trying to hold your hand! I'm sorry, alright?" Yamaguchi looked almost angry for some reason, which surprised Tsukishima even more, and he tried to think of a way to resolve the situation.
"Why though?"
"Why am I sorry, or why did I try?"
"I don't know, both?"
Yamaguchi shifted in place, his hands as far from Tsukishima's as possible. "I don't know, I just wanted to try it. I always see Kageyama and Hinata holding hands. Looks nice."
"Yeah, that's 'cause they're dating. It's obvious."
Yamaguchi's face turned redder, if that was even possible. "I mean, I know you said you never want to date, and I'm totally fine with that, but I just wanted to try it anyway. It's over now, we can drop it."
Tsukishima thought it over. On one hand, he never really had an urge to hold hands with anyone. He always thought it was stupid when Thing One and Thing Two walked into practice with their arms swinging like rope in the wind. But on the other hand, it seemed important to Yamaguchi, and they were a package deal or something, so it was important to him too.
He reached out and took Yamaguchi's hand, marveling at how warm it was. It reminded him of playing red rover when he was in lower school, only there wasn't a risk of someone running through their arms at any moment.
"So now what? We just walk?" he asked, intertwining their fingers. This caused Yamaguchi to freeze in place for a second, but he recovered quickly.
"Um, yeah. That's what we do."
"Alright. Sounds good to me."
Tsukishima didn't mention that his hand was sweaty, or that Yamaguchi was holding on for dear life, as if any second Tsukishima might try and grab his hand back again. This was about resolution, and damn it, he would resolve. Besides, it wasn't a bad experience. Sort of like having a lifeline, in case you fell or something. Although Tsukishima wouldn't be obnoxious about it - unlike SOME people - he could get used to it.
It turned out that holding hands was a gateway drug to all kinds of contact. In addition to holding hands - which Yamaguchi did anytime they walked anywhere - they now also apparently napped on each other. Tsukishima found this out in real time when he felt a head slump on his shoulder in the middle of yet another documentary. He was starting to think Yamaguchi was bribing him with educational films.
"Wake up, Yamaguchi, it's the middle of the day," he said, trying to shake him off. In response, Yamaguchi only held on tighter, hands gripping his arm.
"Mmmmmmmmno," he said, not even opening his eyes. Then he was asleep once more, breathing evenly.
Tsukishima had two options. He knew he could maneuver out if he had to, ducking under Yamaguchi's arm and making a break for the kitchen, but one look at his face stopped this thought in its tracks. He looked too peaceful for Tsukishima to ruin it by moving.
That left option number two, which was to get comfortable and try to ignore the sleeping mass on his shoulder. This proved more difficult than he expected, since every so often, Yamaguchi would shift or dig his face further into his collarbone. It was like trying to ignore a puppy breathing on your neck.
Tsukishima gave up on the movie altogether and focused his attention on Yamaguchi, since he was practically begging for it (unconsciously). His hair was everywhere, itching Tsukishima's neck, blocking his face, probably getting drooled on as he watched.
As his good deed of the day, Tsukishima decided to help him out and pull it back. Using his free hand - since Yamaguchi was still gripping his other one with both hands - he began pushing the individual strands out of his face, tucking them behind his ears. It was cathartic, really, such careful work. He had to be gentle, since he definitely didn't want him waking up, and there were a few close calls.
At one point, Yamaguchi opened his eyes completely, looking right up at Tsukishima, but he closed them a second later without saying anything. He decided that it was a no harm, no foul situation, and continued with his job, fixing his glasses every so often so they wouldn't slide off his face.
Just before he finished, Akiteru of all people walked in, pausing immediately when he saw what appeared to be a compromising situation.
"Get a room, bro," he said, smirking, and Tsukishima sent him the middle finger. He didn't need to prove anything to anyone, especially him. He turned back to Yamaguchi, already reaching for his face, but was startled to find that he was awake. For real this time.
"Keep doing it. It feels nice," he said, sending Tsukishima his brightest smile. This only made Tsukishima scowl harder.
"You're such an ass, making me do all of this work," he said, but brushed his fingers over his forehead anyway, smoothing the small hairs at the front back. "You could sit up, you know."
"I know," Yamaguchi said softly, shutting his eyes. "I just like being here."
It was the middle of their third year when Yamaguchi suggested they try sleeping together.
"Not like that!" he protested when Tsukishima raised an eyebrow. "Just like napping, you know? It would save us the work of dragging the futon every sleepover, too."
Tsukishima thought this was faulty logic, especially since his spare mattress was right under his bed, but he was intrigued by the concept of them napping together. The last time he shared a bed with someone was when he was four and slept in his parents' bed. Somehow, he felt this would be a bit different.
"Sure," he said, as if it were nothing. "We can try it next week."
It was much different than sharing it with his parents, as far as he could remember. For one thing, Yamaguchi was clingy as hell itself, and within a few minutes of them laying down, his arms were already wrapped around Tsukishima's chest.
And Yamaguchi smelled different, too. That close, it was impossible for Tsukishima to smell anything but Yamaguchi. His hair smelled like artificial watermelon - his sister's shampoo, allegedly - and his body smelled like Old Spice. It was a weird combination, but Tsukishima rather liked it. And without meaning to, he wrapped himself around Yamaguchi too, so they were both entangled in each other.
Yamaguchi had been half asleep, but he seemed to wake up a little with that, eyes wide. Even with just the faint light from the hallway streaming under the door, Tsukishima could see his pupils blown wide.
"Can I kiss you?" he whispered, and Tsukishima was so taken aback that he nodded. And then the little space between them was bridged, and Tsukishima could taste Yamaguchi too. He didn't taste like artificial watermelon, and somehow that was disappointing.
They broke apart, breathing heavily. It was Tsukishima's first kiss, and probably Yamaguchi's too, but he didn't feel any different. His mouth felt different, sure, but on the inside, it was as if it didn't happen at all.
Yamaguchi leaned in once more and there went Tsukishima's second kiss, just as the first had gone. He didn't know what he was doing, so he just moved his mouth when Yamaguchi did, hoping it was the right thing. Judging by the noises he was making, it seemed alright.
By the time they were too tired to keep going, Tsukishima had formed a full opinion on making out. He assumed, somewhere deep inside of him, that once he actually did it, he'd want to keep doing it. But it was more like a box on a checklist than anything. He got it over with, and now it was done. There was nothing stirring inside of him besides the urge to brush his teeth again.
He wasn't going to move, though, not with Yamaguchi wrapped around his midsection again like a cat on a branch. Tsukishima curled an arm around his shoulders, staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to ask Yamaguchi if he felt the same way, like it was all just swapping saliva, nothing romantic about it, but he was already fast asleep. Besides, he probably felt whatever magical spark rom coms always talked about. He wasn't the weird one, Tsukishima was.
In the morning, when both of them declined to move out of bed, Yamaguchi looked like he wanted to continue what had happened the night before. As quickly as he could, Tsukishima leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, sliding out of bed. He hoped it would be enough for the time being, as being close to Yamaguchi was nice, but everything else, he could do without. When the time came, he'd tell him for sure.
It wasn't Yamaguchi's fault. Tsukishima knew he was pushing him away, avoiding spending the nights with him, keeping at arm's distance. When they were sitting together on the couch, Yamaguchi half on his lap, that was fine. It was a comfortable arrangement they worked out after loads of trial and error, and it was always the warmest spot in the room.
When Yamaguchi started turning backwards, however, that was when he knew he had to get up and leave the room for a bit. He'd return a few minutes later with some lame excuse, and the cycle would start again. Sometimes he couldn't escape, and he just went with it, copying whatever Yamaguchi did for however long he had to. It wasn't bad, but he knew he wasn't feeling whatever Yamaguchi was when they kissed.
One night, when Tsukishima left for "the bathroom" for the third time in an hour, Yamaguchi said straight out, "Are you attracted to me?"
Tsukishima had done his research. He knew perfectly well the distinction between romantic and sexual attraction, but he wasn't sure if Yamaguchi did too. So instead, he asked his own question back. "Depends. Why?"
Yamaguchi sighed at the nonanswer. "I don't want you to push me away again. If there's something wrong, I want you to tell me."
Tsukishima felt like he'd been slapped. "Again? You mean like from years ago?"
"It was harsh, alright! You didn't talk to me for three years. I thought you hated me."
"You didn't try and write to me either, so we're in the same boat."
"You stormed out of the gym and told me not to follow you!"
He had him there. Tsukishima bit back whatever retort was on the tip of his tongue and instead reached for his arm, pulling him to his chest. "It was a hard time, ok? I pushed everyone away. I didn't talk to my brother for a month afterwards, and I need to see him every day. That's not happening again now, though."
"Then why won't you kiss me?" His voice was thick with exhaustion, and possibly tears. Tsukishima felt a rush of guilt overcome him, guilt that first year Tsukishima probably never experienced. He tried to think up an example that would make sense at twelve in the morning.
"Let's say that the norm was that when a couple really liked each other, they rubbed their feet together."
"What does this have to do with anything?"
"Just humor me. Let's say that was the case. If I told you that the most romantic thing in the world was if you rubbed your foot on mine, would you do it?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess for your sake I would."
"But would you like it?"
Yamaguchi made a face. "I'm not sure. It sounds kinda weird."
"That's basically what kissing is like for me. It's weird, it's kinda gross, and I don't find it romantic. I like sharing an armchair with you, I like holding your hand, I like being with you. The kissing just feels like a weird thing that I have to do to show you that I care about you, and I personally don't like it much."
He regretted making the foot rubbing analogy, because now his feet itched, but nevertheless, he persevered. "That being said, of course, I'd do it for you. Even if it's gross for me, I'd endure it for your sake if you wanted because you like it. I just want it out in the open."
Yamaguchi was silent for a bit, his head on the pillow beside Tsukishima's. When he spoke, his voice sounded lighter, like he just removed a burden. "I wish you would've told me earlier," he said quietly, staring up at the ceiling. "I wouldn't have been so pushy otherwise."
"You weren't pushy, you were fine. It's my fault for-"
"No, stop. You can't blame yourself for how you feel. I've decided it's neither of our faults, beginning now." He turned to face Tsukishima, the beginnings of a smile present on his features. "Besides, there are other ways you can show me you care about me."
"Really? Like how?"
"For once thing, you can hold me," he said, and Tsukishima didn't hesitate to pull Yamaguchi towards him, settling his chin by his head.
"What else? We need options here."
"You can... do that thing where you brush my hair with your fingers." Tsukishima groaned, but did as he was told, because he really did care about him, and if that was the way to show it, then he'd have to get used to brushing his hair 24/7.
"Anything else?"
Yamaguchi was silent in thought, but ultimately said, "You can just say it. That you care about me, I mean."
Tsukishima didn't hesitate. "I care about you very deeply, to the point that I'd kill Hinata for you."
"You just wanted to say that. You'd kill Hinata for a turkey sandwich."
"I don't like turkey."
"I know."
He smiled at him, then added quickly, "I care about you too, if that wasn't clear. I just didn't want to ruin the moment or-"
Tsukishima cut him off with a kiss to the forehead, which shut him up pretty effectively. Maybe he'd be able to use it to his advantage.
"I got it, dumbass. Now lets go to sleep before you ruin the moment even more."
"I didn't-"
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh."
The silence settled over them like a blanket, tucking them in for the night. Tsukishima kept brushing Yamaguchi's hair even after he fell asleep, because the least he could do was show he cared to Yamaguchi's subconscious. He had a lot of catching up to do, but then again, they had a lot of time to spare.