Chapter Text
Fuck this cactus.
Kei didn’t want it. Well — he more specifically didn’t want the memories associated with it, but the two were inextricably intertwined, so he stood by his initial statement.
Fuck this cactus, and fuck it for being a cactus.
He couldn’t throw it out. He was a well-established asshole but he’d accepted the gift, which meant — through some strange convoluted logic — that he couldn’t throw out the gift. What if Kageyama asked about it, some time down the line? What if Kageyama came over and it was just — gone. Lots of ‘ifs’ there, but Kei was always great at contingency planning.
And he couldn’t let the thing ‘die of neglect’, either, because it was a fucking cactus — it wanted to be neglected. Killing it through overwatering would take effort, and that seemed somehow metaphorically counterproductive.
So fuck this cactus and especially fuck the guy that gave it to him.
“Oh, nice — you got a cactus!” Akiteru appeared in his doorway, grin characteristically sunny.
Fuck Akiteru and older brothers the whole world over, while he was at it.
“I hate it,” Kei answered.
“Then why’d you get it?”
“I didn’t. It was a gift.”
Akiteru, as he had always done, saw straight to the heart of the issue. “And you didn’t refuse it because….?”
Kei felt his lip twitch in an aborted snarl, instead choosing to sigh. “Because it was from Kageyama.”
Kageyama Tobio, the regrettable object of Kei’s stunted and clearly uncalibrated affections. Kageyama Tobio, with deep-water blue eyes and raven black hair and a face unfortunately attractive enough to catch the eye of nearly everyone in school but with a brain most likely lacking a single wrinkle.
Fuck Kageyama Tobio and fuck this cactus.
And fuck Yamaguchi too, who knew Kei too well for anyone’s good.
“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi hesitated one morning at practice, expression equivalent to one who faced entering a minefield, a winter puddle of unknown depth or any similarly unpleasant situation. “Do you…do you like Kageyama?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kei scoffed, immediately defensive. “As if I —”
“The thing is,” Yamaguchi — evidently resigned to his fate — plowed ahead over Kei’s hasty explanation. “I don’t think I am being ridiculous.” He raised a finger. “One — you stare at him all the time. Two” — he raised a second digit — “right now you’re staring at him like you want to kill him. Which isn’t anything new but even by your standards, he hasn’t done anything to warrant that look today — which leads me to: three.” A third finger rose. “You haven’t mocked him as much lately, even when he does do something stupid, but you keep glaring at him. So it’s not that you’re not paying attention, it’s that you are paying attention but you don’t seem to care what it is that he’s actually doing.”
Kei opened his mouth to protest but Yamaguchi held his three raised fingers up higher.
“IN CONCLUSION,” he spoke just loudly enough to prevent Kei from saying his piece. “Something suspicious is going on here, and since this isn’t a previously-encountered variant of Tsukki-angst, I can only assume this is the direct result of a feeling you haven’t previously experienced. The simplest — and therefore most likely — explanation is a crush. Or whatever the Tsukishima Kei-equivalent of a crush is.”
Kei needed new friends. He missed the days when Yamaguchi would just trail after him and echo whatever insult he threw out. What was the use of being 193 centimeters tall and near the top of his class if nobody feared him?
By virtue of Yamaguchi being captain, simply holding up his hand was drawing the attention of the rest of the gym — precisely what Kei did not want. He grabbed his wrist, pulling it down.
“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
But Yamaguchi did not shut up.
“And I don’t think it’s ridiculous to like him, either. I mean, he’s passionate and really good at what he does and I guess, objectively speaking, he’s attractive? I mean, I’m not attracted to him, but I could see how others — others, of course, being you — might find him —”
Kei clamped a hand over his former friend’s mouth. “SHUT UP!”
Yamaguchi licked his palm. Kei recoiled in horror.
“So you do like him?” he asked, teasing gone from his voice. Instead, his words, posture and facial expression all displayed an air of ‘intrigued’ which people who didn’t know him might interpret as ‘kind’.
Except Yamaguchi was a little shit and he was rarely kind to anyone except maybe Yachi — least of all to Kei, as of late. His interest was first in the gossip that could be gleaned from the situation; Kei’s emotional state was of secondary concern.
Kei knew that he was probably being a little spiteful towards his friend in his thoughts but, at the moment, his friend was being an ass to him in real life, so he figured it evened out.
“Absolutely not,” Kei denied.
Unfortunately Yamaguchi’s suspicion, much like the cactus, would not die if Kei simply ignored them.
Case-in-point: Yamaguchi proposed a ‘group date’ to the Sendai Aquarium on a day he knew Hinata had to watch his younger sister. Yachi desperately wanted to see the dolphin show, he claimed, so sorry you won’t be able to make it, Hinata, but wouldn’t it be fun for them all to go together?
It might have been — Kei could admit to enjoying the jellyfish displays — except halfway through the first floor Kei found himself alone with Kageyama, not a head of green hair with an alfalfa-cowlick in sight.
The way Yamaguchi and Yacchan were smiling, he should have known they were up to something.
Kageyama hardly seemed to notice, entranced as he was with the exhibits. At least if the fish ignored him, Kei guessed, they were ignoring everyone.
It could have been endearing if Kageyama didn’t have the awful habit of just stopping in front of a tank without notice. No fewer than five times did Kei turn to ask him something only to find the space next to him suddenly empty.
Eventually, Kei just hooked his pinky into the pocket of Kageyama’s track jacket. That way, he reasoned, he could feel when the setter slowed down.
Kageyama finally noticed as they watched a sunfish drift along in front of them. The thing was taller than them and the flapping of its fins looked ineffective.
“It kinda looks like the vice principal,” Kageyama commented and — he wasn’t wrong. Against his will, Kei found himself snickering. He tried to raise a hand to cover his mouth and muffle the laughter, in keeping with the generally hushed environment of the hall, but his finger was stuck in Kageyama’s pocket. The motion pulled on his jacket, drawing Kageyama’s attention.
“Why is your hand in my pocket?” he asked. “Are you cold?”
“You need a leash,” Kei bit out, previous mirth all but gone. “You just keep stopping without saying anything.”
Kageyama looked at him blankly for a moment before tentatively holding his hand out. Kei stared at it, then lifted his eyes to stare at the other boy, face carefully neutral.
Kageyama shook the appendage a little. “Hinata holds my hand when we go to the park.”
And because Kei disliked losing to Hinata more than he disliked doing anything evenly remotely affectionate, he snatched cuff of the jacket just above the setter’s wrist before angrily leading them away.
He’d choke before he’d admit it but this was better. Definitely less suspicious than having his hand in the pocket of someone who was clearly oblivious, definitely more comfortable given the length of his arms, and now he had double the range to stand farther away from Kageyama.
It also put his hand within easy grabbing range of the other boy, which maybe wasn’t the best plan, seeing as the setter had the strength expected of an imminently-professional athlete. When he grabbed Kei’s hand to steer them in a different direction than where they were heading, he nearly dislocated his shoulder.
“What the hell!” Kei hissed as they stopped in front of a large tank.
“Sharks,” was the only response he got.
Which was a fairly valid one, considering the oversized fish on the other size of the glass.
The blue sharks the aquarium was known for were gliding through the water, a new one passing by every minute or so. The pair stood in silence for a minute, Kageyama pointing at one that caught his interest here and there.
“Do they have tiger sharks here?” he asked quietly.
“Uhh…” Kei pulled out the map Yamaguchi had hastily shoved in his hands when they first arrived. “Yeah, seems like they’re a few rooms over.”
In retrospect, Kei should have known. The first clue should have been Kageyama — Kageyama — asking for the tiger sharks by name. The second clue should have been when he said, “I’ve always wanted to see one,” because the only thing Kageyama had really ever wanted to see was a volleyball or a net.
The third clue should have been when they stood in front of the tank with the tiger sharks and Kageyama was looking everywhere except at the striped giant in front of him.
Kei looked at him expectantly.
“It’s…it’s that one,” he prodded. The shorter boy looked at the tiger shark, brow furrowed.
“…That?” he asked. “I thought it would…y’know…”
Kei waited for him to continue but all he got was Kageyama’s other hand making a motion.
“Huh?” Kei prodded.
“Y’know,” Kageyama said again, emphatically.
“I really don’t know, King.”
“I thought it would look more like a tiger,” he mumbled. Kei conceded the point. The black stripes were faint against its gray skin and honestly looked more like ovaloid spots. Except then Kageyama continued. “You know with like ears and paws and fur and shit.”
It took Kei a moment to process, thinking he had misheard.
He had not.
“Ears…and paws…and fur,” he echoed.
“Yeah,” Kageyama nodded. “And maybe more orange? I guess I thought they’d be orange too.” He paused a moment. "Maybe the paws are retraceable?”
“Retraceable?” There had to be something in the cool, vaguely briny air of the hall because Kei was sure he wasn’t really hearing this.
“Yeah, like cats’ claws.”
“Retractable,” he automatically corrected. Kageyama nodded. Then — “Do you…” he had to pause a moment, still not fully trusting his understanding of the situation. “Do you actually think that tiger sharks are a combination of a tiger and a shark?”
“…Uh duh? That’s what it’s called, dumbass.”
Kei would like to file a complaint with whoever was in charge of his hormones because how in the fresh fuck was this the person his heart wanted?
Because, god help him, he did want. Bathed in blue from the light coming through the glass from the water beyond, Kageyama was really attractive. His eyes appeared nearly black, but they were opened wide in honest curiosity and wonder, however misplaced it was. Kei’s skin burned from where calloused fingers wrapped around his wrist, having forgotten to let go.
He was tempted to just walk away, to leave this absolute idiot to fend for himself in the aquarium even though he knew Yamaguchi would be mad at him for leaving the setter by himself because they ALL knew they’d have to go on a hunt for him. The other option was to fall into hysterics, and not the cute kind. The kind that bordered on a mental break, the kind that would have people looking at him in concern and aquarium workers leading him to someplace ‘more private’.
Lose his date, or lose his sanity.
Kageyama shifted his attention to a point over his shoulder and Kei wasn’t sure if Yamaguchi’s appearance right then was a blessing or a curse.
“Tsukishima-kun, Kageyama-kun, there you are!” Yachi said — as though the other pair hadn’t intentionally abandoned them. She was spending too much time with Yamaguchi: his gremlin-ness was rubbing off on her. “Ohhh look at the sharks!”
The group looked back at the sharks, where one had latched on to the other.
“Oh, they’re fighting!” Yachi narrated, but as a few moments passed it became evident that ‘fighting’ wasn’t exactly all they were doing. “Oh! They’re…umm…mating?”
At that point, the exhibit attendants began to quietly usher guests away from the glass and towards the exits leading to other tanks.
The group made their way towards the amphitheater, where the dolphin show was scheduled to begin shortly.
“I wonder if they have barbed dicks,” Kageyama commented out of nowhere. Yachi flushed red and Yamaguchi choked on the piece of candy he was eating. Kei just closed his eyes.
“I — I —” Yachi stuttered. “I beg your pardon, Kageyama-kun?”
“I wonder if the tiger sharks have barbed dicks,” he unfortunately repeated. "Like cats."
Kei focused on the smell of the ocean in the air, the prickle of sunshine on his face, the faint caw of seagulls — anything, really, other than sadistically gleeful stare Yamaguchi was boring into the side of his head.
Deep breath in, slow breath out.
“They’re not really tiger-shark hybrids, idiot.They don’t have barbed dicks,” Kei bit out.
“Well actually —” Someone from the row in front of them turned around. Kei nearly snarled at them, but Kageyama looked beyond excited.
They argued about it again on the way home.
“I was right,” Kageyama insisted.
“You were not right.”
“That lady said I was right.”
“That lady said that some sharks also have barbs or spikes on their dicks, not that you were right. It’s called convergent evolution, but I doubt you even know what evolution is. It doesn’t count. You weren’t right.”
Kageyama just smiled smugly.
At Yamaguchi’s elated urging, the woman seated in front of them had provided abundant — excessive, even — information on shark ‘claspers’, apparently the subject of her current master’s thesis for a marine biology degree. Somehow also well-versed on feline reproduction, she had explained that while the barbs on a cat’s penis were to stimulate ovulation, the spines on a shark’s claspers (plural — two of them) were to hold the female in place.
Of course, none of that mattered to Kageyama, who only heard ‘actually —’ and, like a true tyrant, declared himself correct and thus intellectually superior.
“How did you even know about cat’s dicks in the first place?” Kei shot at him, trying to salvage the conversation.
“Kuroo-san told me,” Kageyama answered.
Kuroo. Of course. Kei was simultaneously repulsed and immensely curious about how that conversation came about. Maybe Akaashi would know.
Not that Kei would ever ask.
“You better lock that down,” Yamaguchi managed through his laughter once the group had broken up to head their separate ways. “Before someone else comes along.”
“Absolutely not,” Kei answered. If the retort was in regards him liking Kageyama or someone else coming into the picture, well, that was for Kei to know.