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“It’s a little weird, but you have to admit,” Yamaguchi says wearily, ducking his head in response to the warning glare Tsukishima gives him, “he’s good at what he does.”
Tsukishima scoffs. He does not have to admit to anything so blasphemous. Guessing birthdays and ages is a stupid parlor trick and Tsukishima’s best friend—of all people—should not be enabling it.
He glances over to where people are crowding around Tendou’s booth. The booth’s painted tackily with large yellow question marks splattered across a red background. Every once in a while, Tendou would bellow out, “Come ask the miraculous Monster Guesser a question!” and a curious—and undoubtedly gullible--passerby would wander over the booth to test Tendou’s ‘gift.’ It’s never too long before a crowd’s gathered, the adoring audience swarming Tendou’s booth and just the sight of them, the sight of Tendou preening under the attention, is nauseating enough to have Tsukishima rolling his eyes.
“Victory!” Tendou yells loudly enough that his thunderous voice echoes through the carnival grounds. “Aha! Marvel at the magnificent Tendou Satori!”
The crowd responds with delighted oo’s and ahh’s as Tendou beams back at them. Tsukishima almost starts puking, and not just because of the cloying summer heat.
“I’m just saying, he’s gifted,” Yamaguchi concludes. He looks over eagerly to where Tendou’s correctly guessing another young woman’s age.
“And so humble, too,” Tsukishima says, imitating Yamaguchi’s wistful tone. He snorts, the corners of his lips twitching upwards as he swirls his towel against the dusty counter-top of his own booth.
~*~
“Hey you, glasses brat!” Tendou calls as he bounds up to Tsukishima’s booth.
They’ve been working together for at least two weeks. Surely his obnoxious coworker knows his name by now. Tsukishima’s wearing a name tag for god sakes.
“What is it?” Tsukishima asks, yawning a little to demonstrate that he’s already tired of this conversation.
Tendou places his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest. He looks annoyingly pleased with himself and unruffled by Tsukishima’s blatant disinterest. “I’m on fire today!” he tells Tsukishima, as if Tsukishima cares. “85% of my predictions were right! I’m practically a god,” Tendou boasts, his eyes growing impossibly large in excitement as he leans over the counter.
Tsukishima’s thin eyebrows draw together in fake concern. “Only 85%? That’s 15% wrong. You should really work on that.”
The tension between them thickens as Tendou’s smile falters for a moment.
“Well, what do you know? Sounds like someone’s a spoilsport,” Tendou simpers. “Tch. Some of us have to just settle for mediocrity. There’s no need to be petty about it.”
Tsukishima’s hands curl at his side and he’s still trying to figure out how petty his fist might seem when colliding with Tendou’s face when suddenly, Tendou throws his head back and laughs.
“Loosen up, buttercup, it’s all in the name of good fun!”
Tsukishima arches an eyebrow at the redhead. “Some of us are actually trying to work, you know. You should try it sometime.”
Tendou’s calculating gaze is drawn to the booth. He assesses the wall of colorful balloons behind Tsukishima, his eyes narrowing as he buries his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts.
“Jeez, how boring~” Tendou snickers. He spills a few coins onto the counter and slides them towards Tsukishima, a mischievous glint in his red eyes. “How’d you like to have your first customer of the day?”
Tsukishima regards Tendou with scrutiny. “You know that these games are rigged, right?”
“Of course! But I’m at 120% today, so I’m confident I can win big,” Tendou tells him. “Besides, I want to see your face when I score the biggest prize.” He eyes the giant teddy bear greedily.
Tsukishima scowls and retrieves the darts, grumbling something about how 120% is impossible as he shoves the bin towards Tendou. He knows that the darts’ tips are dull and weathered but if Tendou is not bothered by the disadvantage, then Tsukishima isn’t going to protest. “Be quick about it,” Tsukishima says, even though his booth is otherwise deserted.
Tendou smirks wryly, gripping the dart between three fingers. “Red balloon, on the left,” he announces, elbow raised and arm pulled back before he whips the dart through the air. It soars in a perfect arch, hitting its mark with a sharp ‘pop’ as the balloon snaps open.
“Nice fluke,” Tsukishima says, indifferent, as he hands Tendou the second dart. This one hits, too. So does the third dart Tendou throws; however, the fourth and fifth are just off their mark.
“Shit, I was so close, too.”
Tsukishima shrugs a little in response, his expression carefully composed as he sifts through the box of darts until his fingers brush against a blunt tip. His spindly fingers grip the spine of the dart, his posture loose and relaxed as he hits the fourth target Tendou had aimed for.
“Oi! What are you—“
He carefully selects his next dart and pops the blue balloon Tendou had set his sights on for his fifth point.
Tendou gapes, his mouth falling open as he stares.
“That’s not fair, four-eyes!” Tendou pouts. He gazes mournfully at the five darts. “You’re standing closer than I was. You obviously cheated.”
Tsukishima clucks his tongue. “Now Tendou,” he starts slowly, reveling in the way Tendou’s eye twitches irritably. “Some of us just have to settle for mediocrity. There’s no reason to be petty about it. Would you like the plush panda or the plush cat?”
“Plush panda,” Tendou mumbles, dumbstruck. Tsukishima’s not sure if it’s just a trick of the light, but the tips of Tendou’s ears are flushed an angry shade of red. Must be a bad sunburn. Tsukishima unhooks the panda from the display wall and hands it over to him. “Oh, my break’s over! See ya later Mr. Serious!” the redhead hollers and spurts back to his booth, plush panda in hand.
~*~
“Shit, so you’re like...really blind without these things, huh?” Tendou asks as he taps at the rim of the glasses he’d easily snatched off Tsukishima’s face.
“No,” Tsukishima says flatly, “I wear them purely for the aesthetic. Now give them back before I tell the boss you’ve been slacking again.”
Tendou pouts but hands them back. “So touchy.” He rakes his fingers through his spiky hair, his devilish grin returning again as he starts to say, “Hey so what if we—”
“No.”
“You say that a lot,” Tendou points out, his grin unwavering. “You didn’t even let me finish.”
“Didn’t have to,” Tsukishima grunts. He folds his arms across his chest as he leans back against the wall of prizes. In truth though, Tsukishima’s in desperate need of a reprieve from handing out darts and plush prizes all day. Whatever Tendou wants to suggest is probably stupid and immature, but it’ll also probably beat listening to music alone during his break. “Whatever, go ahead.”
“We should continue where we left off yesterday. I want a rematch, but on a different game. Let’s switch things up, you know, keep things interesting.”
“No,” Tsukishima repeats, because he’s spent the last 6 hours eagerly anticipating the end of his shift. Like hell is he going to stay later just so he can play carnival games with Tendou Satori.
Tendou makes a questioning noise from the back of his throat. He lifts his shoulders in a half shrug as he idly twirls a ring around his finger while shaking his head. “Oh? That’s too bad. I really didn’t take you for a coward but maybe I misread you…”
Tsukishima’s hands ball into tight fists. He knows he’s being provoked, that he’s too easily goaded into things but the last thing he wants is to give Tendou more reason to be smug. “Meet me by the ring toss ten minutes after my shift finishes.”
Tendou cocks his head to the side and winks. “Don’t be late,” he hums, sounding downright giddy. Bastard.
~*~
When Tendou and Tsukishima finally finish their game, the white clouds and glaring sun of the afternoon have already receded into darkness. Tsukishima’s arms are a little sore for all the tossing and he can’t recall why he let Tendou trick him into spending a day’s pay on these silly games.
Overall, Tsukishima’s won more times, but Tendou wins the last game and automatically dubs himself the winner, demanding a corndog from Tsukishima as his unofficial prize.
“You’re going to give yourself a stomachache,” Tsukishima says, warily eyeing the corndog Tendou’s stuffing his mouth with. He had personally sworn off carnival food when rumors of food poisoning started to spread…not that Tsukishima’s the type to indulge in stuff like fried peanut butter and chocolate in the first place, but better safe than sorry.
“Aww, the brat cares,” Tendou coos, patting Tsukishima on the shoulder condescendingly. “Don’t worry; this is like the fifth corndog I’ve had this week.”
Tsukishima grimaces and pulls his headphones back on as he waits for their train to arrive. “Your funeral, I guess.”
“You know, this was sort of fun,” Tendou muses, like it hadn’t been his plan in the first place. “Next time I’m winning that giant puppy plush, though. I’ve had my eye on it for weeks.”
Tsukishima turns his head to the side, quirking a smile to himself as he thinks back on the day’s events. He’d loath to admit it, but it’s probably the most fun he’s had in a while.
~*~
Tsukishima glances over at Tendou’s booth, curious to see the size of the audience Tendou’s attracted today. The ‘Guess Monster’ catches him looking though, and sticks his tongue out as he flips Tsukishima off. Tsukishima mirrors the gesture, minus the tongue part because he’s not a freaking three year old.
“This is by far,” says Yamaguchi, sounding both amused and perplexed, “the most bizarre form of flirting that I have ever witnessed.”
Tsukishima makes a face. “We’re not flirting,” he mutters. “We don’t even like each other.”
Which…may not be necessarily true anymore. They’re not friends exactly, but after spending more time with him, Tsukishima no longer finds the other boy’s company intolerable.
Tendou’s a bit strange: he’s constantly singing to himself, he insists on giving his coworkers nicknames, he sometimes refers to himself in third person and Tsukishima once even overheard Tendou telling Semi that he thinks bowl cuts are the epitome of cool. Besides that, though, he’s okay.
Yamaguchi levels Tsukishima a look of skepticism. “If I catch one of you scratching both your names into the wood of your booth with little hearts surrounding it, I’m not going to be surprised.”
Tsukishima pales. He does not have a crush on Tendou. That’d be…illogical. Preposterous. Ridiculous. And Tendou liking him back? Laughable.
“Shut up Yamaguchi.”
Yamaguchi snickers. “Sorry, Tsukki.”
~*~
It’s another smoldering summer day at the world’s tackiest carnival. There’s sweat gathering on Tsukishima’s brow and his breathing is starting to strain from trying to train himself to inhale solely through his mouth, god forbid he inhales the rancid smell of fresh vomit and fried junk food.
“What’s this? Glasses brat’s caught frowning on the job,” Tendou tsks, cackling as he leans his elbow against the booth. “You’re going to scare away all the customers with a face like that, you know.”
“You’re one to talk,” Tsukishima snaps back, his voice nasally from his dire training.
Tendou narrows his eyes. “You’re a pretty sore loser, huh? Never would have guessed you’d have such a nasty personality.”
“Yet here you are.” Tsukishima sighs and adjusts his glasses. “Is there something you needed?”
Tendou flicks his tongue across his lower lip and clasps his hands against the back of his head as he thinks. “It’s an amusement park, Tsu-ki-shi-ma. Amuse me.”
“You’re not a customer,” Tsukishima argues, turning his face away from Tendou’s intense gaze.
Ignoring Tsukishima’s protests, Tendou slides another handful of coins towards Tsukishima. “There, now I am. Bring me the darts, sir.”
Tsukishima glares but obeys, his frown deepening at the fact that Tendou’s still his only customer. He’s about to hand Tendou the box when the redhead groans and lifts the hem of his shirt to dab at the beads of sweat on his own forehead.
“Damn, it’s disgustingly hot outside today,” Tendou complains.
Tsukishima instinctively tracks the movement. He chokes a little, a flush spreading across his cheeks when he’s greeted with an eye-full of bare skin.
Unprompted, Tsukishima’s eyes begin to wander over the redhead’s toned chest, his lean waist, the jut of Tendou’s hips peeking out above his dangerously low waistband. Just as suddenly as he’d raised his shirt, Tendou lowers it again. Tsukishima’s eyes snap back up to Tendou’s face a fraction too late because of course Tendou would notice. Tsukishima kicks himself mentally for looking—for getting caught looking as Tendou’s lips pull into a shit-eating grin.
“Interesting,” Tendou hums. He steeples his hands beneath his chin and then flutters his fingers against each other as if he’s a cheesy villain. “Let’s play a new game. New stakes. What do ya say?”
Tsukishima swallows. He should demand the terms, maybe, but that feels strangely like its own form of defeat. Everything, from Tendou’s posture to the glint in his eyes reads challenge and if Tsukishima were any less stubborn, he’d back down. But he’s clearly a masochist with little sense of self-preservation so instead he holds Tendou’s gaze and nods.
“Excellent! I challenge you to the bottle game. Whoever knocks down more pyramids wins.”
Tsukishima stares, licking his lips unconsciously. “The stakes?”
“If I win,” Tendou pauses and wiggles his eyebrows dramatically, “you give me your number.”
Working at the carnival means having to become accustomed to the perpetual sound of delighted shrieks and the cheery jingles that accompany their rides, but right now Tsukishima swears it’s so quiet between them that he could probably hear a pin drop.
Does Tendou even like guys? Tsukishima wonders, his chest tightening as he bites his lower lip. Heat rises to Tsukishima’s cheeks again but he tries to remain composed as he reminds himself that this, too, is probably just part of the game. Just another way to for Tendou to pass the time.
“And if I win?”
Tendou’s expression turns vulturous, his tone haughty as he says, “Oh c’mon, as if I’d let you.”
“And if I win?” Tsukishima repeats.
“Tch, not going to happen,” Tendou says. “But if by some freak miracle you do—I’ll volunteer to work the dunk tank for three days.”
Tsukishima laughs. The dunk tank is the worst job at the fair, inflicted upon new hires and anyone who’d pissed off their boss by coming late or slacking off at work. “Make it five.”
“Four.”
“Deal,” says Tsukishima. He smirks as they shake on it.
“SA-TO-RI! BREAK’S OVER. GET BACK TO WORK!” their boss yells from afar.
“Yessir!” Tendou yelps, jumping away from Tsukishima’s booth. He juts his lips out sullenly. “Shit. I didn’t even get to play,” he whines as Tsukishima slides the coins back to him, Tsukishima doing little to hide his amusement.
They wait until their shifts end before meeting up in front of the carnival stand. Tendou cracks his knuckles, winking at their bemused coworker as he pays for the first round. He wins the first and third round but loses the others, much to the entertainment of Tsukishima.
“Nooooo! I screwed uuuuuup!” Tendou wails. He falls to the ground, landing on his knees as he shakes his fist.
“Better luck next time,” Tsukishima says snidely, craning his head to look down at Tendou over his shoulder as he passes him. “Oh and Tendou? Don’t forget to pick up your four dunk tank shifts.”
Tendou whimpers and plants his face into the grass.
As he makes his way back to his own booth, Tsukishima idly wonders is Tendou had been serious about wanting his number. Most likely, Tendou had intended on spamming him with memes or messages about his favorite manga, but why ask after he’d caught Tsukishima accidentally checking him out? Tsukishima should feel smug about his victory over Tendou, maybe; even if it’s over something as insignificant as winning at a carnival game, but instead he can’t quite shake his disappointment at Tendou’s loss.
“Pathetic,” Tsukishima murmurs to himself, biting back a sigh as he nudges the bridge of his glasses with his knuckle.
~*~
Tsukishima drops by the dunk tank towards the end of Tendou’s shift, hoping to rub his victory in Tendou’s face.
He regrets it almost immediately.
Tendou’s perched on the bench, legs splayed, wearing nothing but his swimsuit trunks and a cocky grin. He’s humming to himself, his fingers flexing against linked fencing. Tendou's feet are dipped in the water beneath him and his bare torso is dripping, his wet swimsuit trunks clinging to his thighs, and his red hair's matted and damp.
Tsukishima’s throat goes dry and he swallows thickly. Whose punishment is this, exactly? He honestly can’t remember anymore.
“I was wondering when you’d grace me with your presence,” Tendou says, curling his fingers in the chain linkied fencing surrounding him, which rattles beneath his lean hands. “Enjoying the view? ‘Fraid you already missed the show.”
“I had more important things to do than watch you squirm,” Tsukishima bites back as Tendou sniggers and lifts himself from the bench onto the ladder.
“Oh?” Tendou asks, jumping down from the ladder and onto the grass. He reaches for the towel and uses it to rub down his hair. “I thought that was the whole point of,” he gestures around himself vaguely, “this.”
Tsukishima clenches his teeth. He’s being made fun of again. “You really piss me off, you know.”
Tendou tilts his head back and laughs. “And yet here you are!” He loops his towel around his shoulders as he regards Tsukishima carefully. “How did my stand-in do today?”
“Adequately, I guess. He just bullshitted his way through it, same as you.” And the audience was gullible, same as always.
Tendou makes an aggravated ‘tch’ sound as he places his hands on his hips. “It’s not bullshit. They’re observations, and good ones, thank you very much! You know, you wouldn’t believe the things people let slip when they think nobody’s paying attention.”
Tsukishima sighs. “Well go on then, oh miraculous ‘Guess Monster,’ impress me.”
“I thought you’d never ask!” Tendou croons. “Let’s see…what do I know about Mr. Serious?” He counts them off on his fingers, stepping closer with each observation. “I have a hunch that half the time you wear your headphones you aren’t even listening to anything; you just want to seem unapproachable. You fold your arms whenever anyone praises you because the attention makes you uncomfortable. Your sweet tooth is insatiable and you’re a Libra.”
“Our boss has a large whiteboard listing everyone’s birthdays,” Tsukishima says as Tendou crowds into his space.
Tendou licks his lips, his eyes narrowing when he catches Tsukishima watching. “Tch. Still a skeptic, huh?” Tendou asks, exasperated. He looks up at Tsukishima, his face lit with unbridled determination as he says, “I can read palms too, you know.”
“No you can’t.” Tsukishima’s painfully aware that he sounds every bit like the brat that Tendou often accuses him of being. Tendou must hear it too because he snorts.
“I can so! Here, give me your palm.” Tendou doesn’t wait for Tsukishima to comply, snatching Tsukishima’s hand in his own before wrapping his fingers around Tsukishima’s wrist. The callused pads of Tendou’s fingertips dragging along the lines of Tsukishima’s palm send an obviously unwelcomed shiver up Tsukishima’s spine. “There! I see something!”
Tsukishima squints down at his hand. “What?”
“This line here,” Tendou starts, gesturing to the converging path along the grooves of Tsukishima’s hand, “means that you think Tendou Satori’s smoking hot and that you want to—and definitely should—buy him ice cream and then make out with him on the ferris wheel. Huh.”
Tsukishima arches an eyebrow at him and attempts to yank his hand back, but Tendou’s hold is snug. “My palm does not say that I should buy you ice cream.”
“It does!” Tendou laughs. “Chocolate, to be exact.”
“I don’t buy it,” Tsukishima says. He glances back down to where Tendou is still massaging Tsukishima’s palm with the pad of his thumb. “What does this line say? That the two of us get fired from our summer jobs for public indecency?”
“You know what your problem is?” Tendou murmurs, his voice low and his eyes hooded.
“Please, enlighten me,” Tsukishima says, aiming for impassive and missing by a long shot. Tendou’s face is dangerously close to his own, their foreheads nearly touching as Tsukishima’s gaze drops down to the pink bow of the redhead’s lips.
“You think too damn much,” Tendou grits, curling his fingers in the fabric of Tsukishima’s white Karasuno Carnival uniform shirt. He crushes their lips together, his hand fisting tighter in Tsukishima’s shirt. Tendou makes a noise of affirmation as he brings his hand up to cup Tsukishima’s face while tracing his tongue along the seam of Tsukishima’s mouth.
Tendou’s lips are wet and surprisingly soft as they slide over Tsukishima’s. Tendou moves instinctively, his hand sliding beneath the hem of Tsukishima’s shirt as he tugs his lower lip between his teeth. Tsukishima makes a noise of surprise, his mind catching up with him as Tendou curves his other hand against his hip. He clumsily tries to imitate the confident slide and press of Tendou’s lips as they kiss.
I’m making out with Tendou Satori. At work. What the hell, Tsukishima thinks in disbelief as he parts his lips, letting the redhead deepen the kiss. He presses his lips against Tendou’s and shudders—unnoticeable to anyone who’s less perceptive than Tendou--as the redhead traces erratic patterns against Tsukishima’s mouth with the tip of his tongue.
Tsukishima definitely likes Tendou. Tendou definitely likes Tsukishima. Who would have guessed—no wait, that’s purely rhetorical.
“SATORI! KEI! STOP SUCKING FACE AND GET BACK TO WORK,” their boss yells from afar, causing the two of them to pull apart immediately as if they’d been burned.
“Shit,” Tendou hisses. He grimaces in embarrassment. “Duty calls! But I’m serious about that ferris wheel ride! And the ice cream!”
Tendou ducks his head and leans in; puffing his cheeks adorably as he presses a quick kiss to Tsukishima’s lips.
“I—okay,” Tsukishima croaks, blinking rapidly as Tendou turns on his heels and disappears into the throng of people.
“What just happened?” Tsukishima wonders aloud as he lifts his hand, still feeling the imprint of warmth as he touches his fingers to his lips.
Tendou Satori just asked him on a date.
Even less conceivable: Tsukishima agreed.
His eyes flicker towards the ferris wheel as he pictures Tendou’s legs brushing against Tsukishima’s in the small space, the redhead’s hands sliding farther up Tsukishima’s thigh as Tendou nips at his jaw, perhaps tilts his head down to lick along the column of Tsukishima’s neck. Tsukishima shivers, the tips of his ears turning red as he buries his hands in his jean pockets. Maybe this summer won’t be so lame after all, he thinks as his lips twitch upwards in the beginnings of a smile.