Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

You and a few of your friends were attending to a mutual friend's birthday party; it was no regular party. You could say it was very similar to a wedding's reception – on an event venue. The place was adourned with string lights and a couple of flower vases, mostly. Each table had a different set of candles, the plates and silverware strategically placed for the dinner to be served afterwards.

You had grown tired of contemplating the place – as beautiful as it was. Blame's on your mother for insisting on dropping you extra early; you were by yourself – your friends had not arrived just yet. You would be found checking your phone ever so often and boredly tapping your nails against the table for a couple of minutes straight.

You weren't exactly alone, really. There was your birthday-friend – busy taking pictures – and her relatives. Not like you knew anyone of them, honestly. You felt as though the waiter pitied you, every few minutes stopping by to ask if you'd want something to drink.

Just then, a familiar blonde head appeared.

You couldn't tell if it were a good or a bad sign. a) You wouldn't be alone anymore! b) You had a major crush on him. c) You had the fear of embarassing yourself in front of him. Scared of saying something stupid. d) Okay, maybe you really liked him. . e) But you had company now– I think you get it, my dear reader. You were anxious, that's all.

You jumped from your seat and carefully – even as a failure in walking heels, you wore a short one – made you way towards him.

Allow me to say men in tuxedo are heavenly creatures. Have I mentioned Tsukishima was wearing a tuxedo?

He then suddenly stopped on his tracks. You could've sworn you heard the lowest of gasps; for that he was staring you down. Well, he had never seen you that dressed up before. A fancy hairstyle, make-up and a gorgeous [color] strapless dress. He never intended to spit it out but, as he approached you, he unconsciously mumbled out.

"You look beautiful."

Unbeknownst to Tsukishima, you clearly heard him. Feeling your cheeks flush, you innocently added a comment of your own.

"You look very handsome yourself, Kei." You quickly turned your gaze to the table, in an attempt to avoid eye contact and furthermore humiliation. "Will you join me on my table? No one's here just yet. ."

He nodded with a – almost unnoticeable – gentle smile on his face, following you suit.

You had an astoundingly calm conversation, surprisingly enough. At school you were used to bicker at each other ever so often, throwing snarky comments and, perhaps, witty remarks here and there.

Later on, the celebrations were made and dinner had been served. You accompanied your friends to the dancefloor, only to quickly stop by the table to place your phone on your purse – that was the lamest of excuses, mind you.

Even Yamaguchi had joined Yachi – you adored how timidly they danced infront of each other. And yet, Kei could still be found on the table, all by himself. . not like he wouldn't mind some company. .

"I take it dancing isn't your favorite hobby?"

"Do you even dance?"

"Sir, that's none of your business – in fact, I don't." You shortly snorted. "Not that it really matters, though. I don't think I'm missing out on too much. . other than Yama and Yachi being two cuties, that is. Don't you think?"

"I don't really care."

You gasped and stared at him in disbelief.

"But he's your best friend! Shouldn't you atleast be happy for him? Unless. ." Your face was slowly inching closer to him, your finger pointed right at his face. "You like Yachi!"

Ok, maybe you were wrong. . The menacing glare of his sent chills down you spine. You couldn't help but flinch and keep the safe distance from before.

"I take it that's a no?"

He stood up, hands in his pockets, and made his way towards the bar. You wouldn't really mind staying by yourself but your gut told you to go after him.

Why not?

"What are you going to order?"

"I'd like to have a strawberry cocktail, please." Tsukishima replied to the barman instead, sideglancing at you.

"Aren't we all underage? I don't think you s–"

"I believe it ruins the flavor, so it's non-alcoholic." He confusedly stared at you, as if you were the stupidest of beings in the world. "Not like it would matter. . ? As if people our age don't do anything worse than underage drinking."

You knew he was right – which was a constant deal – but still. . You shrugged, a little uneasy yourself, heading back to your seat. Tsukishima followed along, his drink in hands.

You sat in silence, often checking your phone for messages that would never come; Kei seemed to enjoy his drink.

"May I have a sip?"

He gave you most judgemental look you had ever seen. You pulled your outstretched hand back, fearing a menacing disapproval would come. . You could always order the drink for yourself, actually.

Wait–!

Tsukishima had purposely drank what was left of the cocktail, all because you wanted a taste–

"You disgust me."

And with that – plus a furious swaying of hair locks – you stood up, palms slamming against the table. "I'll go get it myself, you jerk."

"Wait," he took hold of your wrist.

If looks could kill, you had made sure to burn his soul three times that day.

"What?"

With the ugliest of smirks he pointed at the corner of his mouth; it was actually stained with the remnants of his drink.

Your lips formed into a straight line, your hands formed into fists. You liked to think you'd managed to pull off a deadly glare. "Have you no fear of death, Tsukishima?"

Still with that smug look plastered across his face, he innocently shrugged.

"As I said before, you disgust me. Have a fucktastic night."

You should've run, really. You should've never started speaking to him, on the first place.

He had forced you into him. Well, not exactly forced considering he was quite gentle and not like you didn't want it. . You hated to admit you were weak. Giving in to the disgusting taste in his mouth.

Would it be considered harassment? I mean, it didn't have any consent. . now that you think about it, kisses kind of don't need consent? Depends on the context, though.

You liked him, you really did. So was it wrong? Perhaps not, but you didn't want to give him the taste.

You forcefully pushed him away, furiously pulling your hair back in anger.

"Listen here, you little fuck." He didn't seem fazed. I'd say quite content, actually. "Have you no shame at all?! Thinking that just because you're three meters tall you can do whatever you want. ."

"Was it your first?"

That was it.

He had pulled the last string of what remained of your self-control.

You grabbed onto his tie, pulling him closer to your face. "I'm so tired of your bullshit."

Please, someone offer my body to Satan. I've made it to the lowest of lows.

You had kissed him. Yup. Look at you go, reader. Taking iniciative this time and kissing a 6'2" guy. Good job.

But I mean– his mouth tasted like strawberry!