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‘I feel like this is getting out of hand,' Takahiro remarks one after school practice.
'What exactly are you referring to,' Kunimi says beside him, wiping sweat off his forehead.
Takahiro gestures vaguely. 'Y'know. The flirting thing me and Issei are doing.'
'Ah yes,' Kunimi says, tone souring. 'That.'
'He almost beat me earlier today, dude. He walked me to class and his innuendos were top notch. I had to bring out the cheek kiss, man.'
'Really.'
'It"s getting out of hand,' Takahiro repeats. He's pretty irritated, and grudgingly impressed. Takahiro really likes bringing out the cheek kiss late in the game. It's like his special move.
Kunimi replies, ‘I really wish I could explain to you how much of an understatement that is in a way that's simple enough for you to understand, Hanamaki-san.’
Takahiro waves a hand at him floppily, and responds, with words that could be cutting if they weren't so dreamy, ‘Please don’t undermine my intelligence, Kunimi, need I remind you that without me you’d have failed English last week?’
‘And for that I am super endlessly grateful, Hanamaki-san. You're the dopest senpai,' he says sincerely.
'Goddamn right I am,' Takahiro mumbles. 'However, why are you buttering me up.'
'Well. Honestly,’ Kunimi says, voice turning distasteful as he turns his gaze to look where Takahiro is looking. 'I don't want to be rude. But. What the hell do you even see in him? He sucks.’
‘Hey! That’s no way to talk about your senpai, Kunimi,’ Takahiro scolds half-heartedly. ‘You need to be nicer to Issei, he’s so nice to you.’
‘Yesterday in morning practice he shoved my head in a volleyball cart and wouldn’t let me out until I admitted Panic! at the Disco were better before Ryan Ross left.’
Hm. Fair point. But Takahiro is in love, so he's gonna defend his actions anyways.
He rolls his eyes. ‘Okay, c'mon, dude, you know better than to disagree, Ryan Ross made that band and the new lead guy is ruining it.'
‘He hasn’t ruined it yet ,’ Kunimi argues. ‘And I’m pretty sure Ross was also an assh- oh my god, fuck off I will not have this conversation it’s too 2005. Plainly speaking, you're not that great, but you’re still too good for him Hanamaki.’
Takahiro sighs. ‘Of that, I’m bitterly aware, Kunimi my guy. Fuck, make it easy, why couldn’t I have fallen for Oikawa.’
Behind them on the bench, Oikawa chokes on his water, and coughs loudly.
He stutters, ‘M-Makki! I- I had no idea you felt this way! I-‘
‘Jesus Christ, shut up, man,’ Takahiro says tiredly without turning around. ‘This is a private conversation.’
‘You’re having it in public ,’ Oikawa huffs, and flicks the remains of his water on Takahiro’s back.
He’s kind of grateful for the cool water, dripping down skin that's heated from volleyball drills.
Oikawa gets bored when Takahiro doesn’t react and walks off, calling out , ‘Iwa-chan! Receive for me! ’
Kunimi continues as if Oikawa hadn’t interrupted, going, ‘Come on Hanamaki. You have taste. You appreciate Princess Peach, your favorite Fall Out Boy album is Folie à Deux, you like sweets, you’re better than this.’
He sounds sort of despairing, Takahiro notes absently.
'Why're you so against me dating Issei,' Takahiro says. 'He's so flawless.'
Kunimi closes his eyes. ' Wow, love really is blind. Matsukawa-san,' he says, 'has so many flaws that I would have come here with a list if I thought you wouldn't come up with arguments for all of them.'
'He's so perfect, Kunimi,' Takahiro says, beaming at Issei across the gym. Issei looks up and grins back and Takahiro almost swoons.
'You just hate him because he treats you like a little brother.'
'He treats me bad,' Kunimi says bitterly. 'Remember when he shaved off my eyebrow.'
Takahiro almost giggles at the memory. He'd looked really dumb.
Kunimi scowls at him and he straightens his face.
'Okay I get what you mean, but he still gets a pass because that was really funny.'
'One single eyebrow,' Kunimi complains.
'Fucking hilarious,' Takahiro says.
Kunimi exhales loudly, gesturing at Issei.
‘That aside, forget it, he's still horrible, why can't you see. Just- look at him.’
Takahiro tears his gaze away and looks down at Kunimi and blinks. ‘What was I just doing.’
Kunimi sighs. ‘Don’t drool , observe.’
Takahiro takes offense to the amount of disdain packed into that three word sentence but obligately looks back over to Issei.
It's not like it's a chore, he thinks distantly, eyes glazing over.
He’s dripping sweat from head to toe, now snickering at something Kindaichi and Yahaba are saying. His dark, tousled hair is plastered to his forehead, skin dark and flushed, golden brown like it always gets around this time of year. He’s wearing an old band shirt with his practice shorts, his knee pads are off, somewhere on the bench behind Takahiro, and he’s grinning widely down at the underclassmen, his dimple popping out and his eyes crinkled.
His mouth moves slowly as he talks. Takahiro finds it annoying how he practically drawls each word he says, but it's also unbearably sexy.
Takahiro swallows, helplessly watching him lift the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.
He makes a small noise, staring at the revealed span of tan skin, muscled and toned and-
Kunimi smacks him over the head and he squawks, trance breaking.
‘Dude! At least pretend to respect me!' he complains, rubbing the back of his head. Kunimi packs no punches.
‘After what I’ve witnessed over the past year I don’t believe that’s possible, Hanamaki. Senpai,’ he adds at the end belatedly.
Takahiro rolls his eyes and scoffs, ‘Senpai! Ha! Senpai! Don’t even bother Kunimi, I know you don’t see me as anything close to an authority figure.’
‘How dare he, you’re so intimidating,’ comes Issei’s voice from in front of him. Apparently he’d walked all the way across the gym and Takahiro hadn’t even noticed, too busy being judged by his underclassmen.
Takahiro blinks up at him, sure his eyes are dilated from that lewd chest display earlier.
‘Are you making fun of me?’
His voice is breathier and lower than it normally is, and he knows the pout might be too much but it works for him because Issei is a very simple man.
His hooded eyes get darker, his mouth parting.
Takahiro smiles.
‘All the time,’ Issei says teasingly, his voice deeper than usual too as his eyes flit down to Takahiro’s mouth, subtle as a brick.
He bites his lip. Issei's cheeks flush darker and he leans in closer.
‘ Okay , that’s fucking disgusting, you’re literally eyefucking now. Jesus. Hanamaki-san, I tried. Matsukawa… ‘ Kunimi doesn’t even say anything to Issei, just blinks at him with contempt, how did he do that , and shakes his head, sighing before walking away.
There goes the last pieces of Takahiro’s broken self-control.
He turns his head away from watching Kunimi go with pain in his eyes, before turning to look up at Issei, who has somehow gotten three times closer than he was before.
‘Ah- um. Issei,’ he says unintelligibly.
‘How come you get ‘Hanamaki-san’ and I get my name spoken with more judgement than my dad could ever dream of achieving?’ Issei asks.
‘Dude, literally. How does such a young sixteen year old body pack so much anger and criticism?’
Issei blinks. ‘What do you mean criticism, he’s never criticized you. Or- has he?’ His eyes narrow. ‘Do I need to have a talk with him-‘
‘- No ,’ Takahiro huffs out in amusement, pinching Issei’s arm. ‘Are you really gonna threaten a kid to make me feel better, Issei?’
Of course he would, Takahiro thinks smugly. He's totally into him.
‘Kunimi isn’t a kid, he’s a little bitch.’
Takahiro laughs out loud. ‘Just because he’s as mean to you as Kenta-chan is doesn’t mean you should just treat him like that.’ Truly, the similarities between Issei's little brother and Kunimi are very noticable.
Issei grins at him, ruffling his hair, his hand large and heavy. ‘He deserves it. Also, gimme that.’ He tugs at Takahiro’s water bottle, fingers wrapping around Takahiro’s fingers in the process and he flushes a bit at the unnecessary touching.
He gently tugs it out of Takahiro’s hold and tilts his head back to take a long gulp, water spilling down his mouth and jaw and down his throat into his shirt and Takahiro bites back a small whimpering noise.
Boys are unfair.
Issei is still unfairly close as he pulls it down, groaning as he wipes his mouth with the back of his palm. ‘God, it’s so hot today.’
‘Uh huh,’ Takahiro agrees. ‘So hot.’
His voice is too whiny, he realizes blankly, but it’s too late.
Issei’s looking down at him, and he grins, slow and wolfish, his eyes dark and amused.
That glint in his eyes is suspicious.
'You want some?'
God yes.
'No thanks, I'm not thirsty,' Takahiro replies.
Biggest lie he's ever told.
Issei snorts slightly, like he's read his mind.
Then he lifts the bottle up to his head and pours it over his own hair, sighing lowly with satisfaction and Takahiro swallows, hard.
What the fuck, his brain screams.
I fucking know, man, his dick replies blearily.
He tries his utmost to not flush too hard as Issei’s lovely chest is drenched, hair sticking to his forehead, eyelashes sticking together prettily.
‘Fuck yeah,’ he says, shaking his head like a dog and running a large hand through his soaked hair.
Flecks of water land on Takahiro's cheeks and face and he almost collapses.
He grins wider at Takahiro as he catches him staring with his mouth wet.
Issei's tongue presses into the inside of his cheek and wow, why is that so obscene.
‘Okay,’ says Takahiro abruptly, cheeks bright pink. ‘I gotta- I gotta go. You should. Work on serves, or something.’ Anything. Just leave him the fuck alone. Holy fuck.
‘Cool,’ Issei replies, relaxed.
He taps Takahiro’s ass on his way past him, light and playful and Takahiro jerks up, just barely stifling an embarrassing noise, ears burning as the sound of Issei laughing softly fills his ears as he walks off.
Fuck, he realizes, breathless . Issei is winning at the flirting thing.
That's never happened to him before.
Takahiro shakes his head and grins.
He's gonna have to step up his game.