Work Text:
tadashi-saurus rex (and tsukki)
Kei really didn’t understand why the museum wasn’t crowded. It was a Friday evening, sometime in the middle of a lull in work for most, and the weather wasn’t particularly nice enough to stay outside. Yeah, Kei thought this was great museum-going weather. Honestly? It might’ve even edged on perfect museum-going circumstances.
Yet, the museum was pretty quiet, only small groups of families tittering around. They never lingered, jumping from exhibit to exhibit too fast. His group was no different, most of his class content to make fun of how weird prehistoric tools looked and how silly dinosaurs were.
You think dinosaurs are silly? Would you say it to their face?
Kei wanted nothing more than for the day to end. He’d been excited (his first mistake) when the announcement of a class field trip to the museum had been made, but now that he was here, his already low expectations were being slowly crushed.
“Hey, Tsukki, look!”
Kei turned, blinking at Tadashi apathetically as his friend wiggled his arm like a chicken at his sides. His elbows tightly pressed to his ribs, Tadashi forced his fingers into claws and stuck his tongue out with a grin when he saw Kei looking.
“I’m a dinosaur.”
“Yeah?” Kei smiled, small and teasing, “Which one? A Tyrannosaurus Rex? Although, that would fit our tyrant King better.”
“Tsukki,” Tadashi gasped, looking over his shoulder like Kageyama would be there, brow muddled and a curse on his lips. It was stupid of Tadashi since Kageyama wasn’t even in their class, but the nervous boy looked around anyways, succumbing to a short, laugh because his sense of humor was just as cruel as Kei’s.
“I’m a Tadashi-saurus Rex.”
“Are you?” Kei grinned, quick in case someone saw, “Shut up, Yamaguchi. That’s dumb.”
“Sorry Tsukki,” Tadashi let his arms fall limp, managing somehow to look genuinely apologetic while keeping a smug look on his face.
Kei let his friend sidle closer to him, the two of them looking out and over the heads of their classmates. A few had already pulled their phones out, looking up the answers to the worksheet they were supposed to fill out because the grade mattered more than the honest work. If Tadashi hadn’t been so paranoid of the teacher finding out, Kei probably would’ve done the same because the grade usually did matter more than the work.
“You’re too honest.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing, let’s go.”
Kei turned away from the rest of their class, nodding at the teacher before ducking into one of the halls they’d explored earlier. The museum’s dinosaur exhibit was admittedly nice, but Kei had already been there before with his family and not much had changed. Even so, walking down the Cretaceous timeline with Tadashi next to him made everything feel a little different, maybe a little newer.
Tadashi was weird like that. He’d known Kei for so long and yet nothing ever felt old with them. Or maybe it did and Kei was just being weird again.
He’d been feeling a little weird as of late.
“Hey, Tsukki, look!”
Again? Kei turned, fully expecting Tadashi to be performing an encore of Tadashi-saurus because his friend was strange like that.
“The theater is open,” Tadashi beamed, his hand wrapping around Kei’s sleeve and tugging once hard before the boy could comprehend what was happening. Tadashi’s feet shuffled across the floor, fast enough for them to both stumble but slow enough that they wouldn’t get in trouble for running.
So cautious. Kei wanted to laugh, deciding against it when he caught a few of their classmates eyeing them strangely. His mouth settled into a grim line, annoyed at the audience, as Tadashi finally rounded off their journey at the entrance to the museum theater.
“The screen is like, everywhere,” Tadashi explained, poorly, his excitement making up for it.
“Yeah, it’s a theater,” Kei sighed, “It’ll have a big screen.”
“ No, Tsukki,” It was Tadashi’s turn to groan, his slim hand yanking the theater door open with more force than he needed, “It’s more than just big .”
Kei opened his mouth to make a crude joke, shutting up as his friend ushered him into the ghostly quiet theater. If the main halls of the museum had been quiet, Kei swore time itself seemed to slow down in the massive theater. It was empty as far as he could tell and the big screen Tadashi had been raving about stretched as far as Kei could see. He craned his neck up, his chin brushing the little hairs on Tadashi’s head that never seemed to lay flat.
“Told you so,” Tadashi whispered, and Kei shivered.
“It’s cold.”
“You’re always cold,” Tadashi laughed, hushed voice tickling the side of Kei’s neck.
Kei felt something warm curl around his fingers and he held his breath.
“Stay close, okay? You might trip,” Tadashi explained, his palm a little sweaty against Kei’s, but his grip strong.
“It’s really dark,” Kei defended himself, letting Tadashi pull him around to one of the middle rows. Their feet knocked together, shoes bumping as Tadashi pulled one of the foldable seats down for Kei, climbing over the next row so he could sit on his knees and face the boy behind him.
“Isn’t it cool, Tsukki?”
Kei didn’t answer, too focused on the way Tadashi’s baby hairs splayed out around his head in a halo. The giant screen behind him flickered to life, tiny pinpricks of lights expanding until the entire theater was swathed in starlight and—
“— 60 million years ago, giants roamed the earth—”
“Huh, I guess they’re starting even though it’s only us two,” Tadashi mused.
The screen faded to a desert, bright sand casting light on the ridge of Tadashi’s ear, as Kei threw his hand in front of his face. The faint outline of his knuckles glowed in the haze, Tadashi’s hand coming to rest right in front of him as he did the same.
“— Their lives lost in the sands of time—”
“This kinda feels weird, right, Tsukki? Just the two of us here? Kinda like a date.”
I’ve been feeling weird for a while. Kei tried to ignore the way his heart jerked when Tadashi said ‘date’.
Kei closed his fingers around Tadashi’s hand, leaning back in his chair and pulling his friend forward until he was almost falling into the row. Tadashi exhaled, startled, his other hand clamping onto Kei’s armrest for leverage as his knees knocked against the crest of his seat. He laughed, soft, peering up at Kei as the scenes kept shifting on the screen.
They both turned their head up as a brachiosaurus swung its long neck, head sweeping from one side of the room to another. Tadashi pointed at it, his manners forgotten because it was just him and Kei and Kei and him in this giant theater filled with silence.
“That kinda looks like Haiba Lev from Nekoma,” Tadashi whispered conspiratorially and Kei coughed, dropping Tadashi’s hand so he sank back into his chair.
“Doesn’t it?” Tadashi beamed (the little shit) as Kei struggled to not laugh.
Kei couldn’t tell how time passed in the museum’s massive theater, but by the end of the show, he and Tadashi had allotted a Cretaceous-era dinosaur to every single player they could remember. His chest hurt from the pressure of not laughing out loud, Tadashi’s restraint shattered as he wheezed from the row in front.
The show returned to its default screen, the night sky plastered across the room as neither of the boys made a motion to leave. Nobody entered either and Kei cast a quick prayer in hopes that the teacher had forgotten about their existence. Maybe we could just stay here forever. Kei briefly pictured his and Tadashi’s lives, going from constant attendees of the museum to relics of the building (with their own exhibit he’d hope) and then—
“—Their lives lost in the sands of time,” Tadashi parroted the introductory script for the show, “That's kind of edgy.”
“Dinosaurs are edgy,” Kei supplied, lips twisting up as he prepared for Tadashi’s coming joke. His friend always got a certain look on his face right before he thought of something funny, his eyelids falling low and smile thinning into something less friendly and a little scarier. Kei didn’t mind it at all.
“Edgy-saurus Rex.”
“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”
Tadashi laughed hard into his sleeves, eyes beading with tears as Kei leaned his head back and wondered how he’d ever fallen in love with such a lame guy. Love? Kei didn’t react viscerally to the realization: falling in love with Tadashi wasn’t something unexpected.
He’d seen it coming from kilometers away, yet, here he was— unapologetically in love with the boy in front of him.
It was that same, self-proclaimed Tadashi-saurus rex that had taken Kei’s tiny, Grinch-heart with his even tinier, useless chicken arms. Thief, Kei wanted to say, give it back.
“You know any constellations, Tsukki?” Tadashi’s face popped into Kei’s vision, hair dropping over his forehead as he blocked the night sky.
“No.”
Tadashi frowned, moving away from Kei’s face and resting his head on the seat next to him. He’d somehow climbed up to the row behind Kei, his head turned to look at Kei’s profile instead of the slowly rotating stars.
“Really?”
He sounded disappointed and Kei huffed, pointing blindly.
“I know a few.”
For you, I know everything.
Tadashi grinned, eyes locked on Kei’s face as the blond boy made up names and history for each and every pinprick of light in the theater. He ignored the smaller ones (“They’re unimportant.” “Tsukki!” “No, actually. They don’t even count.”) gesturing to the larger stars with a counterfeit authority.
“That’s Tangerine Major,” Kei droned, fingers starting to go numb from holding them so high above his body.
“Oh, the small one next to Tyrant Minor?” Tadashi asked, eyes still trained on the slope of Kei’s nose.
“Yeah,” Kei hummed.
“Why’s it called Tangerine Major if it’s smaller than Tyrant Minor?”
“Because Tyrant Minor sucks,” Kei explained rationally, “And the Tangerine is a major pain in the ass.”
Tadashi snorted, failing to hold back his laughter as he attempted to nod sagely. Kei, better at holding back, just looked at his friend unimpressed, lips pursing as he realized he lost count of which star he’d been on.
“Where’s Tsukki Major?”
Kei ignored the implication of him being a major pain in the ass, rotating his wrist to put his star far, far away from the Tangerine and the Tyrant. He felt Tadashi’s eyes burn holes in the side of his head, mouth running a little dry as he finally found a star he thought suited him. It was medium-sized, a little farther from the rest, and with only one neighbor.
“Right next to Yamaguchi Tadashi,” Kei whispered, unsure if his friend would pick up on how nervous he suddenly felt.
“Huh? Me? Where?” Tadashi finally looked away, squeezing closer to Kei as he followed his finger to the small, yellow light on the far side.
“That one?” Tadashi squinted, “But it’s not really next to anything.”
“Look at the star closest to it,” Kei shut his eyes tight, retracting his arm and tucking it close to his chest. Nausea pooled low in his stomach. He heard Tadashi shift next to him, his shirt gently brushing against the chair.
“Tsukki,” Tadashi laughed, “That’s the North Star, even I know that.”
Kei just smiled to himself, feeling all kinds of suave.
Tadashi, you’re my North Star.
“Tsukki, you’re so lame.”
“Huh?”
Kei’s eyes shot open, the screen now faded to gray, and Tadashi’s face hovering over his.
“You flirt like a second-grader,” Tadashi hummed, looking down his nose at Kei. His freckled chin was level with Kei’s eyes and the blonde boy thought he could vaguely feel the ride and fall of Tadashi’s chest against the top of his head.
“Who said I was flirting?”
“I said,” Tadashi smiled, knowingly, and that weird feeling Kei had carefully packed away bubbled back up.
“Right, well, you’re lame too, Yamaguchi.”
“Let’s be lame together, Tsukki.”
Kei blinked, then coughed, then laughed, right in his friend’s face. Tadashi joined in reeling back before jumping the row of seats and finally, finally , joining Kei in his row. Their hands interlocked as they had before, Tadashi’s scrawny body sinking in next to the gap between chairs with scary ease.
“This was probably the lamest date I’ve ever been on, “ Kei mused, shaking his hand free so he could get up and stretch. Tadashi did the same, pausing for one scary moment when it seemed like he’d gotten stuck between the seats.
“Was this a date?”
Kei shrugged, not meeting Tadashi’s eyes as he started to walk out of the theater.
“You tell me.”
“Hmm, I think it was a good date.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Tadashi nudged Kei’s shoulder with his own, the two of them slowly making their way back to their group.
The Cretaceous timeline moved in reverse as they purposely walked slow, long legs loping across the linoleum and backing up the foot traffic because they were two assholes in love.
“You know what else I think?”
“What?” Kei breathed, trying to pretend he didn’t care.
“I think I’d make a really good boyfriend.”
Kei hummed in agreement. They paused at one of the sculptures, leaning against the wall to quickly write in whatever bullshit answers they could for their worksheet.
(“Tsukki, what’s the definition of a ‘dinosaur’?” “Yamaguchi, we can no longer be friends.” “Tsukki!”)
“You know what else I think?”
“I’m not psychic, Yamaguchi.”
“Lucky for you, I am.”
Kei snorted, leaning back against the wall as his friend surveyed him carefully. Tadashi moved in a semicircle, one hand on his chin as he looked Kei up and down.
“You,” He declared, a little too loudly for a museum, “You look like you could use a good boyfriend.”
“Know anyone on the market?”
“Lucky for you, I do.”
“Is he cute?”
“Not really, but he makes up for it with his energy.”
“If I wanted energy , I’d get a dog.”
“A dog would probably be cuter,” Tadashi shrugged, laughing a little less.
Kei rolled his eyes, pulling Tadashi towards him with the loops of his jeans. One of the museum guards looked at them, confused, quickly looking away when Kei stared him down from over Tadashi’s shoulder.
“What if I said he was cute enough for me.”
“Well, the world would probably cry over how low your standards were, Tsukki.”
“If he’s dating me, his standards are low too.”
Tadashi whistled (or, at least, attempted to) his smile growing a little shy and a little genuine.
“Here’s to low standards.”
Kei smiled, wobbly because Tadashi was close and warmth ping-ponged between their bodies. He wondered if he’d ever count his friend’s freckles and scars like he had the stars in the theater.
“Tadashi—“
Tadashi’s eyes widened, cheeks flushing darker.
“—I, uh,” Kei fumbled for words, not sure if the beginning of the Cretaceous timeline was where he wanted to tell his best friend of several years that he was (probably) in love with him.
“Me too, Tsukki.”
Tadashi grinned, eyes squinting tight as he went up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to the bridge of Kei’s nose. Kei froze, trying to commit the soft press of lips to memory, his fingers turning white around Tadashi’s belt loops.
Tadashi had just kissed his nose in public?
His fucking nose?
A quick sweep around told Kei that the corridor was very much empty, aside from the one guard who seemed intent on focusing on anything but the two second-year boys leaning against the wall. Another quick glance told Kei that Tadashi was just as stunned about his impromptu kiss, his eyes trained on Kei’s mouth like he’d be decreed to death at the blond’s next command.
Kei had never liked it when Tadashi looked scared like that, so he decided the path of best results and least resistance would be to kiss his best friend in the Cretaceous corridor, the security guard be damned. Tadashi, energetic as promised, all too readily complied, even offering Kei his hand to hold as they rushed back to their school group, getting ready to leave.
Kei had been right, it was a perfect day to go to the museum, and an even better day to fall in love.