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Tendou doesn't really think that Semi's street clothes are weird. It was just self preservation that made him say that, because honestly? Semi is too beautiful for Tendou’s health.
The fitted black pants and draping, plum-colored tops that show off his collarbone? The asymmetrical blazer in charcoal? Leopard print scarves? Soft burgundy sweaters, black hats, and boots with silver buckles and platform soles? Distressed jeans that clung to long, lean thighs like leather gloves?
Tendou could cry at the artwork that is Semi Eita all dressed up for a Saturday night.
He has, on more than one occasion, done just that. Usually on the occasions when Semi takes out a pretty girl and doesn't come back until two minutes before curfew. The girls are always as fashionable as Semi, but never as pretty.
Tendou is certain that no one is as pretty as Semi.
He can't say that though. It would make things weird. They're friends. Roommates. Teammates. To want more is just greedy and Tendou doesn’t want to lose what he has.
He tells himself that friendship is enough.
“I like that shirt,” he tells Semi one night. He doesn't know why, other than because it's true. Semi's hair and complexion looks so good when he wears that particular shade of wine red. The button-down fits his broad shoulders nicely and the sleeves are rolled up to his forearms. Most of the buttons are open to reveal a black tank that clings to his chest and hints at a flat stomach. The dark jeans are nice too, with jagged slashes offering peeks of tan thighs.
Semi eyes Tendou suspiciously as he fastens a silver chain around his wrist. “What's wrong with it?”
“No, really!” Tendou raises his hands in protest. “I like it! It's… a good color on you.”
He's blushing. He can feel it and he hates it. The bright pink always clashes with his hair and he's too pale to hide it.
Semi still doesn't look convinced, but he smiles anyway. “Well… thanks. I guess.”
“So who's the lucky girl?” Tendou asks, picking up a book and flopping onto his bed. It's a novel for his English class and inwardly he groans, because not only is it boring, but now Semi will expect him to be prepared for class on Monday. They're not even in the same class, but somehow Semi always knows when Tendou is slacking.
“Miho-chan from Class 3,” he says. Tendou puts the appropriate amount of excitement onto his face because Miho is really cute. And sweet.
He'd be happier if she was going out with Reon or maybe Yamagata. They deserved a sweet girl like her.
Semi was beautiful, but Tendou would never mistake him for anything but salty.
“I won't wait up,” Tendou says, the tease in his voice feeling like ice in his gut. It's getting harder and harder to pretend.
“I won't be that late,” Semi tells him, adding a thick, leather banded watch to his wrist alongside the chain. “It's a double date with a friend of hers. Miho-chan doesn't like the other guy.”
“Ah. So you're just moral support?”
“And possibly a bodyguard.” He offers a wry smile. “Do I look intimidating enough?”
“You need more leather for that.”
So Semi decides to wear his studded motorcycle boots and tosses his leather jacket over his shoulder as he leaves. Tendou dies a little more inside and tries to read, but all he can think about is how good Semi’s ass looked in those jeans and the lingering smell of his cologne.
He's so fucked.
Semi lets himself into the dorm room with more than an hour to spare. He'd seen Miho and her friend back to the girls’ dorm after the other guy flaked out. Miho was right to dislike him. Not only had he “forgotten” his wallet, but he'd been entirely too forward with Umeko-chan during the movie. She was too polite to say anything, even as she grew visibly more uncomfortable.
Semi, on the other hand, has never been known for his politeness. That's why Miho invited him, after all.
“How was it?” Tendou asks. Semi is pretty sure he hasn't been reading for English class, even though he's still sprawled across his bed with the book. It's laying on his chest, open to somewhere in the middle, but there's a more telling pile of comics on the floor.
“If I ever see that bastard again, he's going to regret it,” Semi says, shrugging off his jacket. He tosses it onto his bed before bending down to unzip his boots.
“Good thing you went, huh?”
“Guys are fucking pigs, Satori,” he sighs, slumping down onto his bed.
“You mean that you, a guy, didn't know that already?” Tendou tsks, “That's what you get for skipping the weekly meetings.”
“Funny.” Semi throws a pillow at him, but Tendou just laughs.
Semi can't resist the smile that quirks his own mouth. Tendou always manages to lift his mood.
“Have you eaten?” Semi asks. “We cut the movie short and didn't get dinner.”
“What, you wanna spend your Saturday night with me?”
“That is why I asked,” Semi says with an even look. He's pretty sure that in addition to not doing his homework, Tendou hasn't left his bed period. It's not unlike him to forget to eat while binge reading comics.
Tendou sits up, running a hand through his hair. The gel is mostly gone and it flops into his eyes. Semi tries not to think about how cute it is.
“Yeah, I'll go,” Tendou says. His ugly yellow tee—the one with the hamburger riding a skateboard—is at least three sizes too large and slips off one pale shoulder. Semi hates that shirt and the primary-colored plaid pajama bottoms too, but there's something endearing about Tendou’s expression. He looks like a little kid who was just offered a favorite treat.
“I'm not taking you anywhere unless you dress like a grown up,” Semi insists, not sure why it makes his stomach squirm.
“Aw, SemiSemi, I can't wear this?” he teases, reaching for a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor. “Do I embarrass you?”
“No!” he blurts out. “No. I mean… I'm all dressed up. We could go somewhere nicer than the cafeteria or conbini.”
Tendou’s smile softens, becomes something real and honest. Semi likes it. Doesn't like the embarrassed blush that colors his face and turns his sleepy eyes down towards the floor.
“I don't really have anything nice to wear,” Tendou shrugs. Semi understands. Tendou has a lot of clothes, but his taste runs to obnoxious t-shirts, jeans and sportswear. His nicest clothes are his school uniforms, just like at least half of the team.
“Go fix your hair,” Semi says. “I'll figure something out for you.”
“You're not gonna make us match or anything weird, are you?” he flashes a smile. Semi can tell he's relieved.
His stomach squirms again.
“Hurry up before I change my mind.”
They don't go anywhere fancy. After all, Semi had to pay for four movie tickets earlier and Tendou’s allowance goes towards manga and contraband sweets. The café is nice though, populated mostly by college-aged couples and a small group of second-years from Shiratorizawa.
Semi had picked out clothes for him, combining their wardrobes almost effortlessly. Tendou tried not to take that as some kind of sign from the universe. It was hard enough not thinking about this as an actual date when it was just two friends getting dinner.
Right?
Tendou smooths down the soft jersey tee for probably the twentieth time. It smells like Semi’s cologne. Navy blue and fitting a little more loosely than it does Semi, it pairs nicely with his black jeans—the skinny ones that he almost never wears but bought because Semi said they looked good—bright turquoise Converse, and a wrist full of colorful bracelets he’d swiped from his little sister months ago. He's wearing one of Semi’s hoodies too. The black one with all of the white text printed on it. It's in German, but Tendou is the one who had reassured Semi when he bought it that it wasn't gibberish or dirty.
He's not sure the latter would have been a deal breaker, given Semi's mouth.
Jesus. He does not need to think about Semi's mouth.
“Stop fussing,” Semi scolds, also for the twentieth time. “You look fine.”
Tendou blushes in spite of himself and runs a hand over his hair. “Yeah? I look like an adult?”
“Mm,” Semi considers, “passably, I suppose.”
Tendou throws a napkin at him. “Funny.”
Semi’s smile lights up his whole face and Tendou supposes that the blush is worth it, because Semi is always most beautiful when he’s happy. He feels a familiar warmth in his chest and reminds himself again that it's not a date.
He orders coffee and Semi gets an Italian soda when the waiter comes by. They spend more time chatting than looking at the menus and have to ask for a few more minutes when he comes back with their drinks. When they can't decide between dishes they each order a different one so they can share.
It really feels like a date.
“Sorry you ended up with me instead of finishing your date,” Tendou says, pouring a liberal amount of sugar into his coffee.
“It's okay,” Semi shrugs. “Miho-chan is just a friend, so it wasn't a big deal. I feel worse for Umeko-chan. I guess she really liked the creep.”
“Aw, SemiSemi has a heart after all,” Tendou sang, enjoying the way his friend blushed and ducked his head.
“Stop,” Semi rolls his eyes. “I just don't know what to do when a girl cries, that's all.”
“I would think you'd be an expert by now. All those broken hearts in your wake.”
“Pretty sure you're the one with a fondness for breaking hearts,” he smirks. “You even have a theme song.”
“I'll have you know I've never made a girl cry,” Tendou says. Then softer, “I'd have to find one who actually likes me first.”
“What about that second year who confessed to you at the beginning of the year?”
“Oh, her?” Tendou rubs at the back of his neck. “It was a joke. Her friends thought it'd be funny to embarrass her.”
Semi’s eyes narrow. “Some friends. Why didn't you tell me?”
“Um, ‘cause I was embarrassed?”
“You should have said something. I would've made sure none of them dated anybody.”
“What? No, Eita. I mean… it's not like I was interested anyway,” he mumbles, trying to look very concerned with the way his reflection shimmers in his coffee.
“I don't care. It was unnecessary and cruel.”
Tendou dares a glance up at Semi's face and is surprised by the genuine anger he sees there. He looks the same way he did when Shirabu was given his starting position. The way he looks when Goshiki has been unfairly criticized by anyone. Tendou isn't used to seeing that righteous anger rise on his behalf.
“You're worth anyone's interest, Satori.” The way Semi says it is definite, leaving no room for argument.
“You think so?” He has to ask. Partially because Tendou can't leave anything alone, partially because he wants Semi to say it again.
“I wouldn’t say so if I didn't.”
“Thanks, Eita-kun,” he says and it's soft. Real.
It's Semi who reaches across the table and lays his hand over Tendou’s. They both have long fingers ruined by years of volleyball—by calluses and repeated breaks and scrapes—but Semi's are darker. Warmer. Just a little thicker. He wraps them around Tendou’s wrist and Tendou knows he can feel the quickening of his pulse. There's no way he can't.
Semi looks up under the artful tousle of his hair, eyes intense beneath dark lashes. Tendou’s blushing again but he can't look away. Can't stop the sardonic grin that crawls across his face.
He's not sure if he would have ruined or improved the moment with whatever words were springing to his lips, but it doesn't matter since that's when dinner arrives. They withdraw their hands with embarrassed flushes, eyes dropping as if afraid to make contact with each other or the waiter.
The waiter, to his credit, acts as if he doesn't notice their discomfort and asks if he can get them anything else. Semi recovers first and shakes his head.
“We're good, thank you.”
The waiter takes him at their word and lets them be. Semi turns back to Tendou, worrying at his lower lip.
“We are good, right?”
“Of course we are,” Tendou smiles, but he's aware that it doesn't reach his eyes.
Was this a date? Semi wouldn't make fun of him, not after the way he'd reacted to Tendou’s so-called admirer.
Right?
Semi is fucked.
He doesn't know how or when it happened, or if it had always been and he just didn't notice, but he's on a date with his best friend and he's fucked. Because that squirming feeling in his stomach? It's back with a vengeance and it's not because he's hungry or sick, but because Tendou makes him nervous in all of the best ways. Makes him do stupid shit, like get angry over stories about heartless girls or take his hand the way they do in romantic movies.
Tendou makes him feel stupidly happy like Miho-chan and a dozen other girls never quite have. He realizes that yeah, he liked them all just fine, but the one he really likes is Tendou.
Tendou, with his stupid jokes and stupid hair and stupid clothes and stupid smile that always makes Semi smile like an idiot. That Tendou. The Tendou sitting across from him in a mixture of their clothes—and looking damn good in Semi's hoodie—eating quietly and looking uncertainly at Semi when he thinks Semi isn't paying attention.
“I still want to try some of your pasta,” Semi says, if only because he doesn't like the silence that's settled over them. He wants the confident, joking Tendou back. He's not sure what to do with a sad version of his friend, especially not when it's probably his fault.
“It's good,” Tendou tells him, pushing his plate forward so Semi can get a fork full of linguine and chicken Alfredo.
It really is. It's creamy and the chicken isn't bland or dried out. Semi actually has to stop himself from making a sound of approval that is entirely too close to a moan.
“Can I have more?” he asks. “Here, try mine too.”
He doesn't give Tendou a chance to refuse—not that he would—and slices off a neat bite of tilapia. It's perfectly flaky, the lemon and herbs not overpowering its flavor. Tendou takes it and some of the rice too, nodding appreciatively.
“Halfsies?” he suggests and Semi agrees without hesitation, trading away part of his fish for more of that amazing Alfredo.
It's what they had intended in the first place and things seem to settle after that. They're still quiet, but it's easier. More natural. Tendou mentions taking a trip to his favorite bookstore the next day and invites Semi along. Semi has no interest in the manga that the other obsesses over, but he likes to read and could easily spend hours wandering the stacks.
“After morning practice?” he asks.
“Sure,” Tendou replies. “I'll treat you to lunch.”
“You don't have to do that. We're already eating out tonight.”
“Fine, fine. We'll grab something quick from the cafeteria and I'll buy you ice cream later.”
“You don't have to do that either,” Semi says, though he's secretly pleased. Tendou often offers to treat his friends, but he's usually not so insistent. Semi doesn't want to see him disappointed, so he adds, “You're sure?”
“I want to, SemiSemi.” He doesn't pull the puppy-dog act; instead he smiles brilliantly. Semi can't crush that.
“Ice cream would be good,” he admits. Before he can think it through, he adds in a suggestion of his own and tries not to think about how it sounds like they're planning a date. “We could go to that shop near the park. The one with the little duck pond.”
It's a secret that Semi likes ducks, highly classified and on par with national security, but Tendou knows. He also knows that Semi usually prefers to visit that particular park alone so that he could sit and read beside the quiet pond. Sometimes he takes an old film camera and fills roll after roll with images of the pond and park. It's his place and Semi never extends an invitation to join him there. Not to anyone.
He hopes Tendou will get it. What it means to offer. What it means to share this softer, private side of himself.
The way Tendou's smile slides into something gentle and serious tells him that yes, he gets it. More than that, he wants it.
“Ice cream, Jump, and the park,” he says thoughtfully. “Yeah. Let's do that. It sounds like a great day to me.”
What it sounds like is even more of a date than it did before. Just like it still feels like they're already on one. Semi doesn't think it's supposed to be that easy, but he's never wanted to date his best friend before either. Not consciously, at least.
“Okay,” Semi nods once. Then Tendou smiles at him and Semi quickly has to pay attention to his fish, because that smile is unfair as hell.
He wonders if there's a stronger word than “fucked,” because that's what he is.
The walk back to the dorms is quiet, almost awkward. Tendou isn't quite sure what to say and he knows Semi isn't used to him being at a loss for words. It’s not like the uncomfortable silence from earlier. Not quite. This feels more…
Weighted.
Tendou is ninety percent certain that Semi thinks they're on a date too. He's made blocks with worse odds than that, so he brushes his hand against Semi’s as they walk side by side. Links their little fingers when Semi doesn't flinch. He doesn't pull away; he tightens the tiny embrace with a curl of his finger.
They don't talk about it. Tendou still doesn't know what to say. When he glances at Semi, he can't read his expression, so it's probably smarter to keep his mouth shut until he can say something that doesn't sound like a joke or self-deprecating.
It's easier to go up the stairs of their dorm building without holding hands. They break apart and stay that way as they trudge down the hallway, uncertain and blushing slightly. Tendou shoves his hands into the pockets of his borrowed hoodie, feeling the ghost of Semi’s warmth wrapped around his finger.
“Satori,” Semi stops in front of their door. He has a serious expression on, but it's not like the one he wears when he’s upset with himself or disappointed with one of their kouhai. There's a faint blush riding high on his cheeks.
“Eita.” Tendou gives him a smile that's meant to be reassuring. He isn't sure if he succeeds.
Semi breathes out slowly, his blush darkening. “When we go into our room, whatever… this is, it stays out here. And it stays off of the volleyball court.”
Tendou feels his heart fall as Semi keeps talking. Of course it’s too good to be true. Why should someone as amazing as Eita want to date him for real? It was just dinner. Tomorrow is just a walk to the park.
“We need boundaries,” Semi finishes, frowning down at the floor. “I don't want to fuck up the team or how well we work as roommates.”
“Yeah, no. I mean… just friends, right?”
“What? No! Haven't you been listening to me?” Semi actually looks horrified. “What do you think I said?”
Tendou feels like he missed something important. He reviews Semi’s so-called “boundaries” in his head and still comes up disappointed.
“That this ends when we open the door,” he shrugs, trying to sound like he doesn't care half as much as he does. “It's okay. I get it—”
“The hell you do!” He's not yelling, not this close to curfew with a floor full of eager ears and gossiping mouths, but there's plenty of heat in his voice. More in his eyes. “I like you, Satori. The only thing ending when we go in our room is the date.”
“Wait, what?”
Semi turned away, running his hands through his hair with a frustrated sigh. “I'm not explaining this well, am I?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I'm not sure if I'm hearing you right. You… you do want to go out again? And this really was a date?”
“Christ, yes!” Semi almost does shout this time. He makes an exasperated sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan, leaning against the door with his eyes closed. He sighs and looks at Tendou, face open and honest. “I just… I want us to keep some boundaries for awhile so that we don't fuck up our friendship before we've even figured out what this is. Or what we want it to be.”
Tendou isn't quite sure he believes it. He wants to—desperately so—but he's still reeling from the emotional whiplash. Going from hopeful to disappointed and then back to hopeful is exhausting.
“What… what d’you want it to be?” he asks, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. Otherwise he might start twisting at the rainbow of bands around his wrist and that would be a dead giveaway. As if Semi doesn't already know he was nervous.
“I don't know,” Semi admits. “But right now… there's two things I know I want from you.”
“Okay?”
“I want to go out with you tomorrow,” he says, “on our date, but this time we’ll both know it from the beginning.”
Tendou nods, feeling a smile rise to his lips. He's still uncertain, wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. Or worse, kick him in the gut.
“And second,” Semi blushes a deep, strangely attractive shade of red. “Second… I want you to kiss me goodnight before we go inside.”
Oh. Oh, this is both better and worse than a kick to the stomach. Tendou feels his entire face heat up but he nods eagerly.
“Okay. Yeah, okay. I mean, you're right. We should start small, right? Keep it simple—”
“Satori.” Semi cuts his babbling short.
“Shit. Sorry. Yeah,” he takes a slow, steadying breath. “Okay. A goodnight kiss and a real date. I can do that. We can.”
Semi arches an eyebrow. “Well, if you have to convince yourself…”
Tendou cracks a grin because Semi’s sarcasm is somehow reassuring. Still, he looks down at the floor like his shoes are the most fascinating things he’s ever seen.
“No, I don’t. It's just… I've never kissed anyone before.”
“Wha— Really?”
“I told you. No one's ever been interested before.”
Semi stepped forward, sliding his hands up Tendou’s forearms and tugging him closer. “I'm interested, Satori.”
Tendou puts his hands on Semi’s waist, slouching so they're closer in height. “Me too. So tonight… it's not an ending when we go into our room.”
“No,” Semi leans in. Tendou can smell his cologne. It's the same as what's on the borrowed clothing he wears. “It's just goodnight.”
“Okay,” Tendou agrees, but he can barely find his voice because that's when Semi kisses him.
It feels like more than a date. It feels like a beginning.
—END—