Chapter Text
Ushijima Wakatoshi’s life was a series of strictly timed events punctuated with his own personal brand of serious diligence. Every day was meticulously carried out to perfection whether it was the precise two minutes of brushing teeth or the careful precision of double knotting his shoelaces. He was a man of sureties and didn’t like things out of place or out of order. Therefore, it made absolutely positively no sense how Ushijima Wakatoshi allowed for Tendou Satori to uproot his life’s routine.
“AND THEN WAKA-CHAN, the man had the AUDACITY to tell me that matcha did not belong with darker chocolate. I mean I know he’s a world-renowned chocolatier, but a little innovation wouldn’t kill the man!” Satori’s voice reverberated through the locker room. The entirety of Schweiden Adlers hearing Tendou’s recount of why exactly he had “accidentally” eaten a fellow chocolatier’s competition piece.
The team enjoyed Satori's stories much more than they would care to admit. After months of hearing their spiker mutter things like "Arson is dangerous Satori, you could get hurt" and "Did they ever find your missing neighbor" into his AirPods, Hoshiumi (the team delegated him) demanded that Wakatoshi put Satori on speaker to spill the details on the almost murder mystery of the petite grandmother living next door.
Currently, Tendou was wide-eyed and frazzled as he waved his lanky arms dramatically all over Wakatoshi’s screen. Wakatoshi pulled his practice jersey over his torso and looked at the phone he had propped in his locker.
“I like matcha and dark chocolate. You made an excellent combination of the two flavors when I last visited.” Wakatoshi reassured Satori. It was near midnight in Paris and Satori should be in bed, but comforting his loved one came first.
“Oh did you really like it?” Tendou pauses, biting on his fingers.
“Of course. I would never lie to you Satori. It was very good. I also liked the raspberry truffle and the pistachio creme. I love everything you make.” Wakatoshi notes seriously.
“Ahum fucking simp.” Hoshiumi coughs next to him. Wakatoshi glances at the short man confused before placing his attention back on to the screen. Satori's face was pink and his eyes gleamed at his boyfriend’s praise.
“Thank you, Toshi. That means a lot, really.” Satori smiles. Wakatoshi’s heart skips a little. Tendou was always making him smile and laugh, but it felt incredible when he could make Satori genuinely smile.
“Okay Waka-chan, go destroy those volleyballs for me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, miracle boy!” Tendou shoves the camera closer placing an impromptu kiss on the screen, his attempt to make the long-distance appear nonexistent.
“Good night Satori. I love you.” Wakatoshi clicks ‘end call’ and shuts his locker. 7:55 AM. Tendou would never let him be late to his morning practice no matter what.
“You are so sappy.” Hoshiumi crinkles his nose as the men exit the locker room and head for warm-up laps. Kageyama and Romero followed close behind.
“I can’t believe your boyfriend ate ten freaking pounds of a chocolate sculpture.” Romero chuckles. Kageyama looked ill just from thinking about the amount of sugar.
“Satori should not have done that. He said he almost had to go to the hospital for diabetic arrest.” Wakatoshi starts jogging.
“I’m pretty sure diabetic arrest is not a thing.” Sokolov comments. Wakatoshi shrugs. Tendou felt sick after inhaling the chocolate Eiffel Tower, so he shouldn’t have eaten it.
“Ugh, whatever. If I ever get this gooey in a relationship, I allow anyone to cut my tongue out.” Hoshiumi grimaces.
“Gooey?” They round the corner. Hoshiumi sprinted to keep up with the taller men’s brisk jog.
“Ya know like the mushy stuff you say!” Hoshiumi jumps starfish style and keeps running.
“Mushy?” Wakatoshi questions again.
“He means when you say all the sweet things to your boyfriend, big guy. Like I miss you and I love you.” Sokolov interprets. The Adlers were still learning about Ushijima’s innocence underneath his stoic facade.
“I see,” Wakatoshi ponders, “But how will they know you love them if you don’t tell them?”
Hoshiumi slaps a palm to his face while Romero and Sokolov look at the spiker in awe.
“Yeah, like Wakatoshi-san said. How would they know if you don’t tell them?” Kageyama nods.
“Oh please Tobio-kun, you of all people can’t say shit about that. When are you going to tell the tangerine you miss him?” Heiwajima slaps the setter's back and Kageyama’s face burns red.
“I don’t miss that boke! What are you talking about?!”
This statement doesn’t fly over Ushijima’s head. After all, Tendou was the one who told him sometimes people say the opposite of what they mean, especially if they are having an outburst. Kageyama-kun’s a tsundere were Tendou’s exact words. Though it took a lot of explanation and shonen jump magazines to clarify what tsundere was.
“Kageyama,” Wakatoshi places his hands on the boy’s shoulders halting the jogging procession, “if you love someone you need to tell them.”
If people could self-combust, the Adlers would be staring at Kageyama’s ashes right now. Unfortunately, he could only stand there burning in mortification that Ushijima Wakatoshi told him to confess his crush.
“Let’s go practice.” Kageyama shrugs off the hands and hustles (in denial) to the court. Sokolov and Romero cackled following behind him while Hoshiumi stared at Wakatoshi in absolute distaste.
All in all, a relatively normal day with the Schweiden Adlers.
So as Wakatoshi headed home that evening, he followed his daily ritual as usual. He stopped by the store to grab ingredients for dinner because he didn’t like an abundance of groceries in his home, though Tendou often complained about the lack of snacks. He set his shoes aside, placed his keys in the dish he kept on the entrance table, and stripped for a hot shower, scrubbing shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in that specific order. Clad in his polar bear pajamas (a gift from Semi from this past Christmas), he proceeded to make a simple nutritious dinner only to be interrupted by the doorbell.
Wakatoshi hated interruptions.
The ring buzzed again as he padded over to the front door.
“Hello,” Wakatoshi answers the door to a delivery man.
“Hello there. I have a delivery for Ushijima Wakatoshi if you could just sign here.”
Wakatoshi scribbled chicken scratch onto the signature line, brows furrowed. He didn’t order anything?
“Thank you and have a great day.” Wakatoshi shuts the door, a large insulated package in his hands. But the address label is what truly catches his attention. Tendou Satori. Paris, France.
A glow overtakes his face as he tears into the package to be met with a beautifully decorated gold box and a handwritten note:
Waka-chan, Toshi, Miracle Boy
I know you’re on your strict diet but I made all your favorites! A treat won’t hurt you every once in a while.
All my love,
Satori
He opened the gold foil box to three rows of his favorite chocolates: dark chocolate matcha, raspberry truffle, orange white chocolate, and blueberry filling. Wakatoshi glanced at the clock: 6:35 pm. Tendou would already be at the shop, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Wakatoshi snatches his phone, starting the facetime much too close to his actual face as always. Two rings in and the line picks up.
“Toshi?” Satori answers with concern. It wasn’t like Wakatoshi to call him without texting first.
“Thank you,” Ushijima speaks, lifting the card to the camera. Satori’s eyes crinkle in a smile.
“Oh, you received it! I’m sorry they aren’t as fresh as they are in person, but I was thinking you deserved them anyway.”
“I love them. Thank you. You didn’t have to ship them all the way to Tokyo.” Wakatoshi gingerly places dark chocolate matcha in his mouth, swirling the bitter flavors on his tongue.
“Of course, I had to! How else can I show you how much I love you.”
Ushijima beams. Wakatoshi hated interruptions and anomalies and deviations, but he loved surprises. And Tendou Satori was his favorite surprise.