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It's the little things that catch him off-guard.
Like the way his warmth seems to spread over the area of Tsukishima's body he leans on while he's asleep (and how it was replaced with nothing but coldness once he's awake.) The way his fingers accidentally brush against his. (and Tsukishima has to flinch away like he was burnt.) The way his eyes crinkle and his mouth curls into the most endearing of smiles, and the way his voice sounds when he calls, "Tsukki!" (and how when his usually bubbly-sounding voice cracks mid-sob, Tsukishima's chest constricts until everything feels numb.)
Maybe it's a lot of the little things that piled on top of each other over time, or maybe it was an out of the blue thing. Tsukishima doesn't remember when he started viewing Yamaguchi so differently, but it doesn't matter. (He's a coward, anyway.)
Tsukishima admires Yamaguchi more than just a friend, he knows this much. Yet, he'll keep silent—it's one of the things he does best. He figures Yamaguchi is worth the pain or the heartache or whatever sissy sounding thing comes to mind. Yamaguchi deserves the stars by his feet and the moon in his hand. So Tsukishima, who is just a mere human, and who is incapable of anything as grand as that, can give him this. His silence—his unrequited feelings. It's just a shame that Yamaguchi is so stubbornly blind to how great he actually is. Whereas there's not a thing Tsukishima could find in Yamaguchi that he hates even a little bit, contradicting completely how Yamaguchi felt about himself. He couldn't hate his adorable cowlick and the freckles that dust the apple of his cheeks and meet at the bridge of his nose; the same freckles Yamaguchi despises and the same freckles that seemed to form constellations on his skin. He couldn't hate his smile—no, definitely not his smile. His smile made Tsukishima's chest light, his stomach heavy, his face hot. He loves it and he hates it, and he wishes he could keep himself from returning them those few times. (It's uncharacteristic.)
See, if there's one person in the world Tsukishima found truly captivating and genuine and rare, it was Yamaguchi. Tsukishima could always feel his blood run cold and his anger rise with each self-deprecating word or laugh Yamaguchi directs at himself. That may be why he keeps his feelings so expertly locked away. That's why he's always so careful that he doesn't drop any sort of hint—not a slip of a tongue or a lingering touch. Yamaguchi was like one of those young stars, burning blue in his brilliance and strong-will. Tsukishima would only dull him.
(People think Yamaguchi needs Tsukishima.
They're not exactly wrong.
Yamaguchi needs Tsukishima, but Tsukishima needs him more.)
The coach is saying something; though for Tsukishima it simply passes one ear and exits the the other. Yamaguchi is next to him, like always. They're so close that their elbows are touching, their shoulders are seemingly adjoined and their knees are knocking against each other's—but it's not new and neither of them seem to really mind. Tsukishima glances sidewards, and sees that Yamaguchi is listening to every word. There's the ever-present twinkle in his eyes, as if he's capable of being enthusiastic about anything. Tsukishima's heart aches with a familiar fondness.
They're all tired and sweaty and everything feels heavy and gross, so when Ukai finally says they can go, everyone heaves a collective sigh of relief. The changing room is then packed with worn-out high schoolers. It's crowded, uncomfortable, but it's again not anything they're not used to. One by one, the upperclassman give their goodbyes and take their leave since the first years were in charge of closing up today.
Kageyama and Hinata are being idiots in some other corner of the room, which was also usual. Tsukishima opts to silently put away his belongings as the noise continues to fill in the background. Yamaguchi has his back turned from him, standing sluggishly in the more dimly-lit part of the room. He starts peeling off his shirt; Tsukishima wants to look away, but he doesn't. The cloth inches up and up to reveal the smoothness and the contours of Yamaguchi's back, and Tsukishima takes in how even the nape of his neck up to his shoulder blades are decked with delicate dots.
"Hey, Tsuksihima! Yamaguchi!" Hinata snaps him out of his reverie. He turns to the smaller boy, hiding the subtle pinkness of his cheeks by pushing his thickly-framed glasses up on his nose. Yamaguchi looks toward the redhead as well, whilst still in the process of changing. "Can you guys close up for us? We need to go."
"Go where?" Tsukishima asks, a small smirk forming on his lips. He's able to tick Kageyama off, evident in how he sputters and turns bright red. "Is it really any of your business?" He attempts at sounding unaffected but the panicked volume of his voice betrays him. "Will you or will you not?"
"Fine. Get out of here."
Kageyama is about to retort, but Hinata already pushes him out of the door with an insincere 'thank you' for the other two left inside the room.
"Tsukki, let's go?" asks Yamaguchi, now fully-dressed. Tsukishima nods, and they take off, but not before they lock the door behind them, as promised. If this were one of the days where Yamaguchi would left early to practice god-knows-what god-knows-where with that convenience store guy, Tsukishima would be alone. He'd let his headphones hug his ears, and walk down the street to his own music. When Yamaguchi is around, although, he wants to listen not to his music, but to Yamaguchi. It isn't apparent, but Tsukishima is pretty attentive. Yamaguchi talks about a lot of things, and while Tsukishima never actually replies, he listens to every word; hangs on to every thought. There are no 'Shut up, Yamaguchi's here. (Usually.)
Yamaguchi stops walking then, somehow transitioning from talking about Hinata and Kageyama's secret agenda to astronomy. He faces Tsukishima, face full of wonder. "I read it online. There's supposed to be some meteor shower today."
"Is there?" Tsukishima knows, of course, but he'll prompt Yamaguchi to continue speaking anyway. He used to watch these things with Akiteru, and while he's stopped doing that, he still keeps track of them.
"Yeah." Yamaguchi probably read that last reply as sarcasm; he doesn't get offended by it, though. They continue walking again. "Perseids." Yamaguchi says, quietly.
Tsukishima hums in acknowledgement. "Sons and daughters of Perseus."
The brunette grins. "And Andromeda. I wonder when they'll come out though?" He pauses and turns to Tsukishima once more, but before Tsukishima can give him a nonchalant shrug, he spots a single string of light shine from behind Yamaguchi. More and more tailed stars come by then, and the sight was so picturesque— Yamaguchi idly standing, features barely even seen in the dark; but his outline traced by and surrounded by starlight.
"Tsukki?" he utters, eyebrows furrowed.
"Turn around." Tsukishima merely says, and when Yamaguchi does as told, the sound that escapes his lips—a cross between a sigh and a swoon—is so earnest, so awed. Naturally, Tsukishima takes a jab at him, "It's like the first time you've seen something like this."
"But it is!" Yamaguchi replies, defensively. "Well, in real life anyway. Technology is great." he adds.
There's a lag. Then, Tsukishima exhales a minuscule sigh, before he walks away. Yamaguchi almost doesn't follow until he realizes Tsukishima was leading the way to a nearby open grass field. The walk isn't too long nor too short and he catches up, but when gets there, Tsukishima already has his back laid onto the ground. "What're you doing?" Yamaguchi asks, awkwardly standing over Tsukishima's spread out lanky form.
Tsukishima hates answering obvious questions so he can't help it that his tone is biting when he answers, "Maybe I'm watching the meteor shower."
"Yeah, but you've seen these before." Yamaguchi hesitantly drops onto the grass. He hugs his knees to his chest, attention unwavering from the night sky.
"You haven't."
Yamaguchi's eyes brighten; they flash with a sense of happiness only Yamaguchi could achieve, and for a second Tsukishima's scared he'll start crying. "Tsukki—"
The blonde frowns. "Alright, stop making such a big deal out of it and come here."
So Yamaguchi does. He arranges himself on the ground so that their elbows are touching, their shoulders seemingly adjoined—that they're so close and Tsukishima begins to feel uncomfortable. Yamaguchi's hand feels like it's ghosting against his, and Tsukishima's itching to hold it—even just for a moment—but it all crashes down onto him because he can't. He promised himself.
It's so silent now and suddenly, Tsukishima thinks he's not so good with silence anymore. Not when he can hear, no, feel Yamaguchi's frustratingly steady heartbeats, while his are stupidly fast. He knows he'll fuck it all up if he does, but takes a look at Yamaguchi anyway. Yamaguchi looks breathtaking; Tsukishima doesn't give a fuck that no one else sees it when he can. It's their loss. He lets out a long, long breath he wasn't even aware he was holding.
Tsukishima doesn't remember when he started viewing Yamaguchi so differently, and it's because he's always seen Yamaguchi this way. He didn't even realize; he didn't think it mattered. But now Yamaguchi is lying next to him, the twinkling stars reflecting on his brown eyes, the moon casting a glow on his freckled face—and suddenly, it matters. It all matters so much.
Tsukishima had always been calculated, cold. Never acted on impulse, never reckless. But fuck it.
He does something stupid. Foolish. The thing that'll top his 'Top 10 Most Idiotic Things I've Ever Done' list. He kisses Yamaguchi.
The weird part is, Yamaguchi doesn't flinch or move away or push him off. There's a short moment where Tsukishima thinks it should have been better if he had. That feeling is washed over by the feel of Yamaguchi's soft lips (just like how he'd imagined them), the texture of Yamaguchi's warm cheek under the pad of his thumb, and by how Yamaguchi's gripping shyly, but tightly onto the front of Tsukishima's shirt.
When he pulls away, he doesn't know what to do. He's not sure if he should apologize or run away from this like he usually does in things that concerned emotions, and it doesn't help that Yamaguchi's looking as confused as ever, eyes glazed over and cheeks burning so red that his freckles disappear into his blush. (Tsukishima's sure he's not doing any better.)
He settles for: "I like you?"
Fuck, that sounded less stupid in his head.
Yamaguchi chuckles, despite being just as embarrassed. "Is that a question?"
Tsukishima grumbles. "It's a statement."
There's the smile Tsukishima loves so much again. His eyes crinkle, and his nose scrunches up so endearingly. "I like you, too."
This time, Tsukishima doesn't care all that much if he returns that smile.