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The rattling of the train was pathetically normal. No dramatic echo, no soft don of impending doom in the distance. All was calm, normal, predictable and expected. There was only one conclusion to pull: nothing relevant was going to happen.
Nothing fucking relevant ever happened. Not if Tsukishima could avoid it.
But what the fuck was he supposed to do when this guy - tall, messy black hair, sharp eyes and a cutting grin carved into his features – walked up to him whilst making persistent eye-contact?
Naturally he did what he could, put the volume of his music louder, turned his back at the incoming force and locked his eyes on the moving metropolitan landscape outside the glass.
And yet the chill settled into his spine instead of leaving; the crisis had not been averted. Surely, seconds after he sighed in defeat, a hand tapped his shoulder.
“Hey.”
To not be (completely) rude, Tsukishima turned to meet the man’s eyes for only a moment, made a faint motion of acknowledgement, somewhere between a nod and a head-shake, quickly dragging his eyes back to the window.
“So I couldn’t fail to notice we’re wearing the same t-shirt.”
Damn it, despite the volume of his music he’d heard the comment and…. and he tried, he really did, but he couldn’t not answer; he didn’t manage to resist a snap-back.
“Sounds like you need glasses.” Tsukishima answered shortly. The other man was wearing a leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt, and Tsukishima wouldn’t have ventured within a mile from that sort of clothing, if it were up to him.
“What?” The man smiled, staring at Tsukishima’s spectacles. It took a moment before the blond saw the light turning on in the endless empty depths of the other’s dark eyes. “Oh, wait-” The guy shrugged off the jacket in a single smooth motion, before grabbing the back of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head, treating the whole carriage to a glance at his muscled bare back and toned abs as all he wore was dragged along.
Indeed, the t-shirt he had under that was the same as Tsukishima’s: a simple desaturated green with a stylized illustration of a dinosaur with an iPod.
Tsukishima hadn’t cared to know and now he really wished he hadn’t; his face beet red and the whole carriage was staring at the both of them, now sporting matching shirts, one blushing, one grinning.
“See?” The asshole spoke, completely ignorant, or indifferent, to their predicament.
“Hmph,” was all Tsukishima managed to force out, starting to turn his back to the stranger.
“I’m Kuroo.” And out sticks a hand.
With a pained look Tsukishima shook it, and mumbled his name in reply.
“Well then, Tsukishima-kun, you have good taste in clothing. This is the favourite dino t-shirt I own. Also the only one, but well…”
“It’s a parasaurolophus.”
“Pardon?”
Shit, Tsukishima shouldn’t have said that, now it seemed like he cared about the conversation. With a sigh and a glance at the line-map to count the stations until his stop (5 more, damn), Tsukishima accepted his horrible torturous faith of companionship. Ugh.
“The dinosaur,” he said, as he pulled his headphones half off his ears, “it’s a parasaurolophus.”
“Parassol-what?”
“Parasaurolophus” Tsukishima grit out, ready to punch the guy- Kuroo- in the face.
“Parasaura- no. Paraso… no. Sorry, one more time please.” Kuroo smirked invitingly. Tsukishima took a breath and convinced his itching fists the invitation was not for them.
“Parasaurolophus.”
“Parasaurolophus.”
“Exactly.”
“Awesome.” The smile was nearly blinding, and Tsukishima felt some of his rage regressing. Perhaps his guy wasn’t so bad after all. “So what do you do, Tsukishima-chan, besides nerding about dinosaurs?”
He’d been wrong, this Kuroo guy was worse than he looked, and let’s face it, he already looked pretty bad. And fucking ridiculous. Had he never heard of a hairbrush?! Gods, what had Tsukishima ever done to offend you?! Why this cruel punishment?! And his stop was still 4 stations away too…
“Fuck off.” He said simply, all the bite he had crammed into those two words, and he turned his back on his not-companion and pulled his headphones back over his ears.
“No no wait-” Kuroo put a hand on his shoulder and stopped Tsukishima from completely turning his back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad by it! My best friend is a huge game nerd and trust me he has rubbed off enough on me over the years that I can’t really deny it either!” There was a sort of urgency in his voice that had Tsukishima have mercy. He sighed, deep and heavy, and pulled his headphones down again.
“What do you want?” Left him, more exasperated and tired than he really was.
Kuroo shrugs, re-composed in a flash, a careless little smile playing on his lips. “I don’t know. World peace, an Olympic medal, maybe your first name and phone number?”
Tsukishima blinked twice, then blushed heavily despite his poker face. “What. Why. No.”
Another shrug rolls off those toned shoulders, and those long strong fingers disappear into the jeans the other wears better than should really be allowed and damn now that Tsukishima tuned in on the guy’s hotness he couldn’t unsee it anymore and it was fucking torture.
“What if I ever get another dino shirt and need to identify the species? Jurassic Park can only bring me that far, you know?” And those teasing lips spread further into an intoxicating smile.
Tsukishima turned to the side, praying for his cheeks to stop burning, as he answered in his best deadpan. “You’re ridiculous. Your hair is ridiculous. Please take all these ridiculous things away from me.”
“What- I-…”
Tsukishima’s heart almost stopped when he saw Kuroo shuffle, uncomfortable, out of the corner of his eye. The guy tried to pat his hair down, rubbed the back of his neck, threw his eyes left and right for a way out. It was one of the cutest things he’d ever seen anybody do. It was outrageous, how adorable this jackass pain in the butt looked, self-conscious and thrown off balance. And to think it was because of the hair comment. The hair looked ridiculous, sure, but mostly ridiculously hot, truth be told.
Or rather: a truth never to be told to Kuroo.
Tsukishima ends up staring, and Kuroo answers with a soft blush and a glare. “You’re horrible.” The guy grumbles out. “Abusing my weakness like that. It’d take about an hour to get it under control you know, and sorry but I have better things to do.”
“Such as being a public nuisance?” Grinned the blonde.
“And kicking puppies, sure.” Agreed the black haired.
They smirked at each other for a moment before Tsukishima realized what he was doing and turned on damage control, fixing an annoyed scowl on his face and looking away.
“Do you have any pets?” Continued the nuisance, ignoring the attempt to cut off, well, everything.
“Not allowed in my complex.”
“Then you had to leave your dinosaur figurines at home?”
“Fuck off.” He said, although without bite, and he couldn’t really fight the small smile that wanted to conquer his heart.
“Oh well, alright, I’ll make myself scarce then…” And Kuroo did a step back, and Tsukishima turned fully to him in confusion, the frown on his raised eyebrows making his glasses shift. “What?”
“Next stop is mine.” Kuroo offers, mercifully, at the sight of his puzzled companion.
“Oh.”
Kuroo steps towards the door and the train slows down and everything is happening far too fast and Tsukishima doesn’t like it. He didn’t want Kuroo to come to him, but now he doesn’t want him to leave either. He takes a breathe, swallows, and pushes out the word as he does a step in his new acquaintance’s direction.
“Kei.” Sounds his calm and steady voice among the shuffle of people getting ready to unboard.
Kuroo turns back to him, a warm but still provocative smile on his face. “I’m Tetsurou.” He grins, and adjusts his hold on his things as the train stops and the doors open. “I’ll see you around, Kei.”
And with that he’s gone.
Tsukishima has one more stop to go. He looks down at his t-shirt. It’d always been his favourite, and he guiltily thinks- wishes- that maybe he’ll soon have an extra reason for it.