Work Text:
It's around noon, and Sendou is busy doing nothing. He scrolls aimlessly on his phone as he lies on his bed, his red hair ruffling against one of his cat-patterned pillows.
If someone tries to chat with him in the meantime and Sendou gets away by replying with, 'Sorry, busy!', that's his business.
But even so, Sendou is bored out of his mind. He needs to do something because he can't sit still, yet he continues with the lying antics to avoid talking to people even though he desires to do something—he doesn't know what.
Another bored sigh escapes Sendou's lips for the nth time in that hour, and with nothing better to do, he decides to settle on re-watching one of his comfort shows to fill the void of nothingness.
Flipping his body over, he kicks his feet beneath the blankets and props himself up by the forearms for some leverage as his phone rests between his fingers.
He's seconds into watching the first episode, and someone's texted him again.
With a click of his tongue, Sendou is about to push the notification away when he realises who it is.
'Oh, it's Oli.'
And there's no other thought before Sendou clicks it.
OLI-IKU (ANSWER MY TEXTS??)
SHU
Shu answer me
I am watching you read my texts answer me wtf
Sendou
You cannot be any more impatient
OLI-IKU (ANSWER MY TEXTS??)
Wanna play soccer with me
Please
Sendou
It's off-season?
OLI-IKU (ANSWER MY TEXTS??)
Okay?? And??
Is this a yes or a no, man
Sendou can't bring himself to say no.
Especially when it's with Oliver.
Sendou
Fuck you fine
OLI-IKU (ANSWER MY TEXTS??)
HELL YEAH
Meet me at our park in an hour
Sendou
Okay, okay
Sitting up, Sendou tosses his blankets off his body as he swiftly moves towards his dressing area; it's time to get ready to meet his best friend.
The dirty soccer rests beneath Oliver's foot, softly pressing against the rustled-trimmed grass, making a slight indent as his shoes shift again.
He isn’t sure how long he’s been waiting now. He came at around 1 pm (the allocated time they were supposed to meet), and time has passed, and Sendou has yet to arrive. The anticipation of Sendou's arrival builds beneath Oliver's gut, a mix of tension and excitement, but he doesn't think much of it.
It couldn’t be an annoyance; he didn’t remember the last time he’d been annoyed at Sendou.
(Could he ever be?)
A frown tugs on Oliver’s face the more he waits. Honestly, to him, it felt like an hour had passed, maybe even two for dramatic effect, when realistically, it’s probably been around twenty minutes.
But even so, an underlying thought of nervous wrecks taunts him.
Oliver finds it odd to think in such ways; it’s uncommon for him. The feeling of anxiety is unfamiliar, yet whenever it comes to Sendou, the idea always manages to reach him.
Could it be he cared too much?
Probably.
Maybe it was different.
He kept the ball fitted underneath his foot, letting it stay put as he lifted his head to stare at the bare sky with a few cloud stragglers.
The wind felt fresh against his exposed skin, a cold tint, but not cold enough that he needed to get sick. As the sun blared, its rays fell flat on the grass and mini flowers, mimicking an ample light presenting a particular item.
He continues to stare at the sky, and after a while, Oliver finally has the idea to text Sendou to gather an update.
But before he could even separate his sight from the sky, an oh-so-familiar voice came into his range, causing automatic relief through his body.
Oliver never thought about thinking about it twice; it’s how best friends are, right?
As he shifts his head downward, his gaze falls onto the pretty redhead in his direct line of sight.
He watches as Sendou swiftly approaches, waving his hand. A sweat drip falls down his face—odd, but he’ll ask later.
Softly, pieces of hair between his bangs sweep through his eyesight. Oliver then huffs his breath to push them away and watches Sendou close the gap between them as neither stops looking at the other.
When Sendou finally gets to the appropriate area to talk, it’s almost as if the world has stopped.
For who?
They wish they knew.
“Sorry, I know I’m late!” Sendou apologises with his hands up, squeezing his eyes in retaliation — which causes Oliver to look away begrudgingly. But his voice's a palpable relief when he finally sees Sendou.
Not dwelling on it, Oliver raises an eyebrow, “Oh, really? How late are you? Like an hour by now?”
There’s a slight tsk in his words, making it seem like he’s annoyed, but by the way his lips are tugging upwards, Sendou knows better—like he always did. It was Oliver, after all. They had a mutual understanding that transcended words.
They knew everything about each other.
They did, really.
“I know! I know! I just saw a cat on the way here and got distracted!” Sendou laughed tiredly, “I think I might’ve gotten three diseases since it was a stray, but I’d say it’s worth it!”
“Shu, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Oliver chuckles, a soft blink following after.
He watches as the relief settles in his body—Sendou’s eyebags crinkle as his smile widens.
Has he not been sleeping well?
The thought trembles in Oliver as he mildly ignores the eyebags on his face.
“Okay, thank God, because I really don't wanna get sick before the season starts—” Sendou begins to ramble about how he acts whenever he is ill, and all Oliver does is listen contently.
Every sentence, word, and everything else from Sendou makes it through Oliver, no matter the topic.
Slightly moving downwards, Oliver manoeuvres the soccer into his hand before straightening his back to continue listening to Sendou, not like his eyes ever strayed off of him anyway.
"And—sorry, am I talking too much?" Sendou rubbed the back of his head, backtracking on the very last words of his latest sentence, not noticing how Oliver had been taking note of every single word he'd been saying.
It's almost as if Sendou had said something outrageous, with how offended Oliver looked by the question, "Are you kidding? You couldn't ever."
A subtle blush crawls to Sendou's cheeks, "Ah—well, you know… I'm kind of just—rambling. Especially about unnecessary shit?"
"Shu, nothing is unnecessary when it comes to you," Oliver says so casually that Sendou isn't even sure if he's lying straight to his face.
For a couple of seconds, Sendou remained silent as he left, gathering the mess of his thoughts with an underlying moment of panic. Oliver stood in front of him with nothing but confusion, still unaware of anything but himself.
Before Oliver could make sense of what he said wasn't so typical, Sendou quickly moved on to change the subject.
"Right, of course, uhm—Shall we go practice?" He prays that the blush has gone away.
"Mmm," The words hum in Oliver's throat as he twirls the ball in his hands lightly.
He silently watched the sunlight glisten against Sendou's soft skin, almost as if he were glowing.
"Yeah," Oliver finishes, the corner of his lips turning into a teasing smirk with words so gentle it was like a whisper, "Let's practice—the two of us."
Sendou doesn't respond; instead, all he does is nod as he fixes his clothing.
Sendou wasn't sure when he fell in love with his best friend, Oliver.
If you asked him, he wouldn't be able to answer it either because, to him, it was a riddle waiting for an answer.
The answer was guessable—meaning, if you took all the factors shaping Sendou's life, you'd be able to get it; it was just Sendou who didn't want to know for fear of falling deeper into the hole he'd already created.
(He's dropping).
Maybe it was when they first spoke. The first day when Sendou joined the team, Oliver took it upon himself to become his first friend.
Sendou felt special that day.
He's not sure why; he was sure that's what Oliver did to everyone, anyway.
Either way, it was around then or when Oliver walked Sendou home when it became dark after a long hauled game.
It's hard to imagine anything would've happened when he made sure Sendou was safe and took it upon himself to lead him to his door to ensure there weren't any incidents when he looked away.
There wasn't anything else for Sendou to dwell on when Oliver opened the door for him and softly set him on the couch before leaving for his own house, blocks further away. Oliver could have been there by now if he had not brought Sendou home, but he did it regardless, without a complaint.
As he left, Sendou remembered his heart beating so fast it was sickening and a warm feeling pooling in his gut.
So, yes, it was around then that Sendou fell in love with Oliver. He has a hard time admitting that he's in love with his best friend.
Or, instead, he has a hard time acknowledging that he feels such a thing toward him.
Don't get Sendou wrong; he knows he's into men. He's always been and even had an ex-boyfriend or two; it just feels harder saying that he's gained feelings towards his closest friend, and he's not sure how to look at it.
He's aware of the fact, but Sendou's not going to do anything more.
The thought of straining the dear friendship could wreck him from the inside out; he wouldn't be sure what he could do without him.
After all, why would Oliver reciprocate?
He was straight.
That's it to it.
Sendou always knew they were going to stay as friends, so he knew better than to try to advance to anything more.
Practice went decently well if it could even be counted as proper training.
The whole time being—for however long that went on—maybe an hour? They could never be too sure, as time went like a breeze when they were stuck together. Typically, it was just a bunch of passing the ball around the widened grassy field and a few soccer tricks here and there.
Talking; especially from Sendou's side—took up most of the time. The ball simply being there for fidgeting purposes as the two conversed like they were the only people in the area (there were heaps, but they didn't care).
Whenever Sendou took hold of the ball and swiftly passed it back to Oliver while continuing to discuss the movie he was talking about, Oliver subtly kept the ball for a second longer than he should.
Oliver only kicked it back once he was sure it wasn't going to derail him off-topic—he dislikes it when he changes something about Sendou.
There wasn't anything he'd change about him, and knowing there was a negative implication for Sendou to change irks Oliver's skin, and he never wants to be that type of person.
He'd rather beat himself up for it than do something like that.
How can he do such a thing to his best friend?
Wakatsuki takes another bite out of the half-eaten protein bar he's been snacking on for the past ten minutes. Bits of crumbs fall down his face as he continues watching videos on his phone while he waits for his sister to finish shopping.
Leaning on the chilled wall, Wakatsuki looks at the time above for the nth time, silently counting until she comes back.
For a second, Wakatsuki turns his head to the side briefly to look into the large window to get an estimate of how much longer she has left. When that fails, he shifts his head and is about to go back to his phone till something else gains his attention.
Not too far away, he sees Sendou and Oliver walk past, too busy in their world to recognise anything else.
The passing thought of going up to say hi to them quickly diminishes when he realises that if he does, it'd be like crashing something important, even though it doesn't seem like it.
From where he's standing, he can see the splotches of dirt covering their shoes and the hems of their pants. A visible shine on their faces implies that they've been sweaty—or they are.
Well, they've been practising with each other, only between them.
It's not like they have other teammates.
Wakatsuki gives up on questioning them; at this rate, he no longer wants to have an idea of what's going on in those heads of theirs—honestly, he would lose it.
Looking at them one last time, he watches as Sendou talks and talks to no avail. Simple hand gestures appear here and there, and Wakatsuki glances over the callouses and the stained dirt covering his fingers. He continues talking, but he doesn't look away from Oliver.
Oliver, on the other hand, listens—surprisingly—and does nothing else. Brief responses could be made out, not too long to change the topic, but long enough to show Sendou he's being attentive.
He doesn't look away, either.
If they didn't snap back into reality, Wakatsuki was sure those two would bump into a pole or run into someone.
Wakatsuki would pay to see that.
With a nimble inhale, Wakatsuki shifted his gaze back to his phone, deciding to leave them to mind their own business.
The flashing lights flicker all around Sendou as he takes another sip of the bitter-tasting drink. His eyes stray from one side of the room to the other, desperately trying to ignore the growing pain in his chest.
Sitting high on the stool, Sendou was left to sit with his thoughts all alone, by choice, of course.
He was still determining when or how they ended up here, despite practising soccer not too long ago.
They were at the mall for a few moments, with Oliver ditching his somewhat fancy soccer ball behind. He left it someplace in the park with the words, 'I can buy another one. I don't feel like carrying it around everywhere.'
Sendou remembers raising an eyebrow at the statement, genuinely not believing what he just heard for a quick second before he remembers that it's Oliver. After all, out of all people, he should know that.
Tracing another circle against the marble counter, he didn’t feel like moving.
He’s comfortable sitting here, even if he doesn’t want to.
Strands of white frizzy hair come into his peripheral vision, and Sendou already knows who this is.
“You don’t seem to be having fun,” A tired voice says solemnly, and Sendou hates how he winces at it.
With a sigh, Sendou replied, “Yeah, well, if I finish training, I’m gonna be tired, Hayate.”
Hayate didn’t respond straight away; he watched the way Sendou sent him a bittersweet smile and how Sendou’s dimples didn’t showcase.
Fake.
He didn’t push Sendou about it.
“Mm, then why are you here if you’re tired?” Hayate already knew the answer.
Sendou bit the side of his cheek, not daring to look at Hayate on the side, and instead just stared at his drink.
“I don’t know.” It was a swift reply.
Hayate knew he was lying to him and himself.
Shifting his head, his eyes glanced behind him where the crowd and duos were dancing.
His eyes strayed along the two where Oliver held a girl with dark silk hair close to his chest, whispering sweet-nothings into her pierced ears.
Glancing back at Sendou, he took notice of the hurt in his softened eyes.
There’s a tired sigh that escapes Hayate's lips.
“Right,”
Hayate looks at the stacks of alcohol located at the stand.
Sendou hummed; if he caught on that Hayate knew the reason, then he decided not to speak up about it.
“Mhm,” It was a mumble, “Why are you here then?”
Hayate tilted his head to the side, “Eh, Teppei wanted to come by after Momo texted the group chat about you guys being around here.”
Sendou felt a little better after hearing the nickname the team had given Wakatsuki. He still doesn’t get where Momo came from, but Sendou thinks it’s better that way.
“How did he know we were here?” He was finally able to look Hayate in the eyes.
With a shrug, Hayate answered, “I’m not sure. He said he saw you guys at the mall.”
Nodding along, Sendou stayed silent.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl close to Oliver, with beautiful hair and sweet movements; Sendou blocked out her face because he already knew that the girl's eyes would be prettier than his, and he couldn’t bear the thought.
Sendou moved his head to let his hair stray against his face, hiding it again.
Sendou doesn’t even know when it became the following day.
One moment, he was bitterly sitting in a crowded bar, and before he knew it, he was lying in his firm bed.
He was aware that he was being overly salty and unreasonable, but what else could Sendou do?
A lot, and he knew that.
Stilled thoughts tick in Sendou’s head; perhaps he should distance himself from Oliver.
The pain is getting too much.
Amid the consideration, Sendou gets a text notification.
OLI-IKU (ANSWER MY TEXTS??)
Good morning, shu!!
Sorry I didn’t say bye last night
Did you sleep well?
I hope you did
The girl is probably still in bed with Oliver as he sent the text.
Sendou starts crying.
Oliver finished sending the last text as he remembered the little detail from the day before.
Closing the door behind him, he finally arrives home from the hotel he took the girl to.
He wasn't just going to bring a random girl to his house for a one-night stand; it’s bullshit in his head.
Only Sendou, the team—and well, Sendou, has been to his house.
He wasn't typically the one to trust people easily, especially with people whose names or facial features he barely remembered. The girl's hair was the only thing that lingered in Oliver's mind.
Oliver doesn't even recall looking into the girl's eyes.
Plus, Oliver finds it odd that a random girl comes over to his place in areas where Sendou has been and laughs and smiles. He doesn't understand why it happens, but he still gives in to it, the odd feeling.
Should he find it strange that his first thought when he woke up was to text Sendou and send him an apology for leaving him at night?
No, he doesn't.
Making his way back home, as he awaits Sendou's response—because that's typically the only thing that's currently on Oliver's head—there's a sudden message notification that alerts Oliver.
Swiftly reaching into his pockets, it is too swift that his hands fumble against each other, but he still manages to get a grip on his case phone; he taps against it to view the screen to see if it is from Sendou.
But, when Oliver reads over the contact name, his shoulders deflate in disappointment, and he is about to put it back to respond later, so the person texts again.
Hayate.
Aiku, are you busy today?
We should talk, it's urgent.
Oliver raised an eyebrow at the sudden question. Typically, someone other than Hayate would reach out first, especially in times like this.
Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he decides to get back at him in a few minutes once he reaches his house; it shouldn't be too urgent, right?
Then, when Hayate sends the last text, Oliver's brain goes blank, and he immediately swipes up on the notification as if there is nothing else that matters to him.
Hayate.
It's about Sendou
Oliver
Is he okay?
What's wrong?
What happened?
Hayate.
Jeez, okay, of course, that got your attention
Anyway, he's fine
Maybe I don't know
Can you meet up with me today?
Oliver
Yeah, of course, I can
When?
I'm free whenever
Hayate.
Can you do an hour in the café the team frequents at
Oliver
Yeah, easy
I'll see you then
Hayate.
K
Hayate lightly tapped his fingers against the handle of the coffee he was sipping as he looked outside the tinted windows. He was waiting for Oliver to make his way here; it should be quick, considering the topic of the conversation was Sendou.
It was like a click of a button when Hayate heard the doorbell ring, and he looked up to see a duo-coloured man waltzing in.
As the two locked eyes from across the room, Oliver instinctively made his way over to Hayate within a second—it almost caught Hayate off-guard, if not for the fact he played soccer professionally and had to deal with this daily.
"So—" Oliver began to speak, determined to figure out what was going on, but Hayate cut him off with a slide of a coffee cup that still had reminiscences of hot steam coming out of it.
"Here, your coffee. If you don't like it, then give it to me," Hayate simply stated, acting like there wasn't a different atmosphere going on. It's a long black."
All Oliver did was nod in response, slowly picking it up and bringing it to his lips as he waited for Hayate to continue speaking.
"Sen will be fine; he should be", Hayate sighed, placing his mug back onto the wooden table, the back of his foot gently nudging against his chair legs, "Though—that determines how you act next."
Oliver raised his eyebrows at Hayate; what could that possibly mean?
"Huh?" It was the only thing Oliver could say. Truthfully, Oliver was used to Hayate not making sense to him, but this had him more than confused.
Hayate tapped the table one more time before replying, he no longer wanted to beat around the bush anymore—he just wanted to get straight to the point already, "Oliver,"
There was a silent inhale like he was preparing himself for the worst of the worst, and all Oliver could feel was the increase of anxiety building inside his body.
"Don't you like Sendou?"
He had asked in such a brisk way that Oliver barely registered it, but when he did, his expression morphed like a snap, and Hayate witnessed it all.
The way Oliver's cheeks briefly tinted pink like he was flustered but also had an underlying feeling of humiliation creeping in his gut, his eyebrows furrowed together so rough he seemed annoyed yet confused. Hayate noticed the way Oliver clenched his teeth.
Don't you like Sendou?
No, god, no.
He—Oliver didn't like him.
Sendou was his best friend, that's all. They were just friends. It was just Oliver and him, best friends until the end of it. There wasn't anything more to their relationship.
Oliver looked at Hayate like he had said the most outrageous thing ever.
And that's not how you ask someone if they like another person. Hayate used the wrong words; it's supposed to be 'Do', not 'Don't' or whatever ridiculous term Hayate had used towards Oliver.
"What?" Oliver breathed out, "Are you kidding me? Of course, I don't, that's ridiculous—"
His words died down when he realised Hayate's tired look on his face, his eyes deadpanned at him, and his lips were in a thin line of disappointment.
Sucking in a sigh, Oliver awkwardly drifted his gaze back and forth from Hayate and towards his drink, his fingers treading carefully across the table, "Don't…Don't look at me like that. It makes me feel like I just killed your family."
Maybe you did, Hayate annoyed thought, still not believing this situation he was facing.
"So you… Don't like him?" Hayate asked, his eyebrow slightly raised this time.
Oliver shook his head, shaking off the minuscule warmth building in his cheeks as his lips quivered before properly answering, "Of course not! I mean—Why would I, anyway? I have… my eyes set on other people—"
"—And you've ever stopped looking at Sendou?" Hayate's breathless words cut off Oliver swiftly like he barely even thought about thinking before he spoke.
His sentence made Oliver freeze.
All he could do was blink at the white-haired man, simply not believing what he heard. He tried to reply, to retort or to say anything, but the only thing that was able to form were other stupid ideas Oliver hadn't even fathomed thinking about.
Most of the time, Oliver has taken his eyes off Sendou—he's fully capable of it, isn't he?
But, the more Oliver thinks, the more the realisation starts to settle in, and the little puzzle pieces begin to connect, answering questions Oliver wasn't even aware of thinking about.
Whenever it was on the field, Oliver longed for Sendou, it could be during education sessions or travelling with the team, but his eyes never failed to stray over the red-haired man. Even when he wasn't there, Oliver always managed to have a lingering thought of him.
Once Oliver had finally given it some thought, his whole world began to crash apart.
Oliver couldn't like Sendou, that'd—that'd be disastrous.
"I can't like Sendou," Oliver spoke quietly, his fingers curling into a tight fist as he couldn't dare to look Hayate in the eye, his persona starting to hurt for the first time.
Hayate raised an eyebrow at Oliver's crumbling appearance, how it looked like he was on the edge of breaking apart and tearing something down, "Why?"
It was an uncommon moment, but, Oliver couldn't reply.
Well, he could, he just wasn't sure how to set the words right.
It was a known fact that Oliver had loads of history with many girls, but never with a man, and it's not because there was anything wrong with it, it's simply because it was Sendou.
His best friend.
The only person Oliver could be genuine around.
He'd rather die than hurt him, and that's an understatement.
Every time he touched Sendou, it was gentle and soft so that it wouldn't leave any harsh marks. When he got roughed up, he was always there to tease him and tend to the wounds—and it went both ways.
While he could hurt numerous people and his past relationships would never go away against his shadow, Oliver would risk it all for Sendou.
Maybe he was being dramatic, but he didn't know what to do with this newfound information.
"I can't hurt him," Is all Oliver said.
Hayate's eyes trailed over Oliver's wrinkled face before sighing as he took another sip of his coffee, Sendou's already hurting trying not to love you, why won't you like him?
He tried to find another way to bring something up, clearly tired of this situation.
Sendou didn't know how long he'd been crying, but his eyes hurt when the tears finally stopped—more like run out—and he was wiping his face with the back of his hand. They began to burn every time he tried to blink.
It was pathetic on Sendou's end, so pitiful.
And yet, Sendou can't help but continue this stupid routine of listening to Oliver, talking to him like he was the only person in the world and then crying his eyes out when he starts dating another girl.
It was stupid.
Sendou was stupid.
He hated himself for loving his best friend.
Sendou knew better, he knew so much better than acting like this and even talked to Hayate and Wakatsuki a few times about this, but nothing ever changed.
It was all his fault.
Gripping the hems of his sleeves and bringing it to his face once more to wipe off a stray tear, he looked up and stared at his miserable reflection from the dirty mirror sitting pretty from across his room.
It felt like watching his heart break once he saw how hideous he looked.
This time, he couldn't even cry.
He just stared, his thoughts clouding his brain like a virus.
He let it happen because loving Oliver was as easy as living, he loved Oliver so much that the definition of pain changed to love because that's all Sendou knew from when he was in love with his friend.
When his legs started to hurt from how long Sendou had been sitting, Sendou curled his legs closer to his body.
"You can't hurt him?" Hayate repeated, having to hear it himself made both players wince at the words for an odd reason, for different reasons.
It was hesitant, but Hayate could see Oliver's nod, even if it was slight.
Another sigh escaped from Hayate, his fingers giving a shake before he set the coffee cup back onto the table, his mind running endless thoughts and opinions that he wanted to shake off badly, it was useless.
He stared at Oliver for a few seconds, taking in his bitter face until he spoke again, more so of a question, "So you don't love him?"
Having to hear Hayate's question was like something had stabbed Oliver in the heart over and over again, it was as if somebody had asked him the dumbest question in the world like it wasn't obvious.
"I don't—" Oliver cut himself off, eyes merely widening as he barely registered the next words coming out of his mouth, yet they were so truthful it hurt him again, "I don't even know what love is like."
A blink came from Hayate, and then another, and then he responded to Oliver's meek voice—the first time having heard his captain sound so diminished.
"Do you want to know?" He had simply asked, deciding that he didn't want to become solemn or emotional over this, after all, Hayate thought he didn't seem fit for such an atmosphere.
Instead of verbally responding to him, Oliver hummed, his head stiffening as his body language didn't give any hints or implications of a no or a yes, seemingly giving Hayate to do whatever he pleased.
Though, if he had to admit, it was scary when he was going to hear about love, about being in love.
Hayate decided to continue.
"It's different to everyone, I guess, the two are different anyway, regardless of being friendly or not," Hayate hummed, his tired eyes straying along his pale knuckles, "I guess love feels warm, healing, and such while being in love is what makes you—you,"
It's stupid, Hayate's never been good at explaining things and making things therapeutic, it's just how it is, but Oliver still deserved an answer.
He didn't expect Oliver to dwell on it, but when he shifted his gaze away from his pale skin to his captain, he could observe the thinking and the growing bitter expression on his face.
In the end, Oliver nodded.
The tension was now visible, and the air had become awkward, but neither of them cared at this rate—at least Hayate didn't, the conversation wasn't going to stop now, once he had started something, it was going to finish, he didn't care how.
"Do you," His eyes flickered, their gaze locking into each other, "Do you think you're in love with anything?
Sendou.
"Soccer,"
Oliver gave Hayate a tight smile, everything inside his body actively refusing to acknowledge anything else and rejecting every possible advance of being in love, there wasn't a part of him that didn't try to look away from it—except for his heart, though it's a bit strange, Oliver wasn't aware that he had a heart with love.
By the look Hayate had given him, Oliver was quick to tell that he didn't believe him, which is valid, he didn't exactly believe himself either.
And then, all of a sudden, Hayate started moving, his body standing up as he grabbed his coffee cup and moved his chair to situate it back under the table as he tidied his area up before giving Oliver another look, though this one was more hesitant.
After a few seconds of staring, he let out another exasperated sigh, his eyes looking into Oliver, but it felt like he didn't want to, "When you think about it, try not to tell him immediately, okay?"
Oliver waited for Hayate to expand on it, but he never did, instead, his eyes softened ever-so-slightly, his eyebags becoming more visible and known to Oliver, but he didn't look back at Hayate's tired face.
"This isn't a bad thing, though," Was the last thing Hayate said before he left the café, leaving Oliver behind.
His eyes gazed out his tinted windows, from the shining sun to the glistening stars, Oliver witnessed the change from the bright day to the cooling night, his body laying stiff on his bed as he thought about everything that happened today.
It's strange, so strange.
Oliver didn't get it, especially not with the whole conversation with Hayate, it made no sense to him, yet he couldn't stop thinking about it over and over again, like it was planted in his brain.
The more he thought about it, the weirder he felt about thinking about the idea of being in love with Sendou.
Not that there was anything wrong with it, to be completely fair, how could anyone blame him if he had fallen in love with Sendou?
It's like his hair was perfect, always shaping his face in a manner that seemed smooth, not to mention how silky the strands were, whenever Oliver ran his hands through it, it never failed to send a chill down his spine, finding comfort in it.
Whenever his hands were against Sendou's bare skin, Oliver was so gentle it seemed like someone had switched off a gear in his head, but the truth was that every time he had seen discoloured patches on Sendou's skin, it made his gut turn.
Every time Sendou spoke to him was like a melody, it was sweet to his ears, and it wasn't something that Oliver could ever get sick of, he'd listen over and over again, the threat of it becoming annoying was never there, he hadn't even thought of ever feeling such a thing, it was stupid to him.
And, oh, Sendou's eyes, the ones that held so much warmth Oliver felt like he got lost in them every time he looked into them, constantly swimming in a cosy lake.
It was almost as if a piece of him died whenever he was forced to look away from his gentle eyes, the feeling of being held would be stripped away from him.
There was a chance that Oliver was being dramatic, but whenever his mind glossed over a memory where he had held Sendou so dear to him and let out a laugh when he was sure that Sendou was being genuine with his laughter so his dimples showed, it was hard not to be.
So, Oliver was appreciative towards Sendou, but he had an underlying thought that it was so much more, and maybe it was, he wasn't sure what.
For a second, Oliver thought about the café he met Hayate in earlier in the day.
He shook it off.
But it came back, it continued to come back until Oliver could recall the whole conversation word by word, everything being forced into his head as he now was able to recall every single bit from before.
It didn't make sense to him why it was being like this, Oliver had only talked to Hayate for not even half an hour, their topic being about—, well, Sendou, and love.
That's it to it, there was nothing else.
Why did it keep coming back to him whenever Oliver tried to shake the memory off? It wasn't saying anything, Oliver was appreciative of his best friend.
His own mind didn't have to constantly remind him that he was in love with Sendou—
Oh.
Oh.
He was—what?
That didn't make sense, it couldn't have, it was wrong, his mind was in the wrong and Oliver tried to blame it on his tiredness, but he knew if he tried to sleep it wouldn't work.
Oliver felt like he was frozen, that his breath had hitched and every time he tried to blink, it was more of a flashing image or memory of Sendou being so beautiful that it made Oliver want to start healing himself.
God, oh, god, the acceptance finally got to him.
He had fallen in love with a boy—no, wait, that didn't seem quite right.
Oliver's always been in love with a boy, the boy that made him feel seen and just Oliver. He's been in love with Sendou since day one, from the first touch, from the first look, Oliver was in love with a boy, and that boy was Sendou, his best friend.
And then—and then it felt like everything had become wrong. The adrenaline Oliver was once feeling had crumpled into a little ball. His desire weakened, and for a brief moment, just for a second, it felt like Oliver's world had exploded.
So he sent Sendou a text, amid the starry night.
Oliver hated himself.
But, god, the realisation of loving Sendou made it worth it.
He accepted it.
He stood in the cold breeze, his hoodie providing him only so much warmth that Oliver could still feel shivers down his spine as he continued to wait, standing again in the park where he met Sendou from yesterday morning.
The circumstances were so different, yet Oliver felt the same excitement about seeing him again.
Maybe he was stuck in his thoughts for far too long to start to realise that Sendou was slowly making his way towards him, his body covered in a jumper too as he was shivering.
There was a mad look on his face, but neither of the two was aware that he wasn't truthfully mad.
It didn't take so long for Sendou to come close to Oliver, there was a chance that the two were closing the distance a bit much, but neither of the two had spoken up about it, so they let each other be, just like this.
At this distance, Oliver could take in everything.
His eyes trailed from Sendou's furrowed eyebrows to the eyes that Oliver adored so much and that held such care and gentleness to him, that no matter how mad Sendou had seemed, Oliver only felt the warmth, even in the cool breeze as this. He noticed the redness in the corners of Sendou's eyes, a slight puffiness to signify that tears were falling on his face not too long ago, it made Oliver worry. The uneasiness grew within his stomach once he realised that he hadn't been there for his best friend, that he couldn't wipe his tears away—maybe he could've even kissed him.
Maybe he can now.
"Hi," Oliver croaked out, he almost cringed at himself for sounding so awkward and tense.
Sendou blinked at him, a curious implication forming on his face as he returned the awkward greeting, though finding some humour into this, "Hey,"
Oliver swallowed a lump down his throat, making his way through the rough texture of his throat as his tongue lightly licked the side of his lips, when did his throat get so dry?
"Shu," He started again, this time having decided to use Sendou's nickname.
Maybe Sendou had blushed at the nickname, but it was too hard to tell as Oliver was too busy being engrossed in his mind, his thoughts not being able to pick up on anything specific coming from Sendou, yet he was able to tell everything that was happening.
"Oli," Sendou returned the favour, his eyebrows raising as he stared at Oliver with a more obvious curious expression, no longer having the irritated facade on, "Everything okay? You texted me out of nowhere to come here,"
He blinked at Sendou, not sure what to say. He only stared at Sendou, watching as the stars from above him became his own background, as it all belonged to Sendou, and the moonlight shone on him so perfectly that the shine felt unreal, the glisten in those eyes became Oliver's personal light festival.
"I—"
Oliver cut himself off, not trusting the next words that would come out of his mouth as he faintly remembered what Hayate told him not too long ago, 'Try not to tell him immediately,' though Oliver's never been good at following people.
His sentence hitched, his gaze never lifting from Sendou.
And neither did his.
Sendou never stopped looking at Oliver, from the moment he arrived, from the second he had laid eyes on him; he didn't stop.
It was a problem, probably, but it was Sendou's favourite mistake to make, so he'd do it all over again and let the consequences settle as he fell into the lake of longing and staring, he didn't want to trade it for anything else.
Oliver's surprisingly soft hair that Sendou's fingers would dance around, occasionally tidying it up but never fully going into it because he was scared that he'd warm to it too fast.
How could Sendou not stare at his best friend when the night sky that shadowed him complimented Oliver so perfectly that Sendou wouldn't complain about standing there all night if it meant he didn't have to sit anymore, content that he could watch Oliver bask in the night light, the shining stars raining on him.
He couldn't even retort to Oliver's cut-off sentence, his words were also gone.
"Shu," Oliver breathed out, a muted cloud escaping his lips as his eyes flickered at Sendou, the endless thoughts of refusal circling his mind.
Don't tell him.
You can't say it.
We've built so much.
You can't tell him.
Don't.
Will it be worth it at all?
"I'm in love with you." Oliver doesn't believe that he just admitted that.
Holy fuck.
He hadn't even figured it out an hour ago, and he already confessed to Sendou in a click of a switch, and it was baffling to Oliver as well.
Though, he was scared of Sendou's reaction the most.
Not even for a second had Oliver looked away, determined to see every second of Sendou's thoughts and ideas of Oliver being in love with him was honestly shocking, but he wanted to see it all, he needed to see it, even if it hurt him in the long run.
But then, Sendou's eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth gaping open as a faded cloud escaped his lips as his brain finally registered what Oliver just told him.
I'm in love with you.
He wants to hear it again.
"You're—" Sendou let himself gasp, and Oliver took it as a positive initiative to step closer, and then another when he saw the blush on his cheeks—though he was sure that he wasn't any better, "You're what?"
He needed to hear it again, one time wasn't enough for his ears as he never stopped staring at Oliver, his two-toned hair and eyes were suddenly throwing him irritation since everywhere around him began to remind him of Oliver too much.
With another step, Oliver got closer, and their hands brushed over each other, a nice warmth spreading in him, "I'm in love with you."
Sendou could feel like crying all over again, and this time he'd let the tears fall and drop until he had no more tears to produce.
He felt Oliver's hand graze over his for another time, a silent asking in his eyes, and Sendou didn't waste a second to nod his head as he slightly leaned in too, his feet taking a small step as he was getting a grasp of the unbelievable situation.
It didn't take another second for Sendou to feel his fingers being separated and intertwined with Oliver's cold ones, but he felt himself leaning into him anyway.
He gave Oliver a warm squeeze before a kiss was shared between the two.
It finally happened, Sendou never felt so much joy.
It was beautiful; the kiss was, it was stunning, really. Sendou never felt so connected before, a smile creeping up on his face as he continued to hold onto Oliver's hand, never wanting to let it go from now on—and Oliver didn't seem to have a problem with it.
Once the two separated, they leaned their foreheads to touch together, resting along one another as they opened their eyes ever-so-slightly.
Oliver stared at Sendou lovingly once he did.
The way Sendou smiled, his lips tugging upward so nicely was sweet, the corner of his eyes crinkling together due to the grin, his face so full of heart and warmth that Oliver never wanted to leave, he wanted to kiss every part of Sendou.
Not much it took for Sendou to realise Oliver's staring at this point and time, but he found it adorable, a light chuckle coming from Sendou.
He needed this, he really did, the tiredness in his legs had now faded.
"Did you just find out you are?" Sendou giggled, his tone laced with gentleness, yet it was definitely clear with teasing and taunts, an obvious target to whoever his message was directed at.
Oliver couldn't help but scoff at Sendou's words, his hand squeezing against Sendou's as they continued to intertwine with each other, like a red rope that was finally being tied together.
"..You know me too well," He chuckled, it was pointless to lie to Sendou.
A gentle laugh returned, Sendou's other hand trailing upwards to softly place against Oliver's cheek, an immediate response to lean into the touch as his thumb tenderly caressed his cold skin.
"I know," Sendou smiled once more, his dimples finally showing again, it never failed to flutter Oliver's heart.
The two of them leaned closer like before.
"I'm in love with you too,"
Sendou whispered to Oliver, his words so sincere and warm that Oliver felt like he didn't need to wear his hoodie anymore, the factor of being with Sendou was more than enough.
They shared another warm kiss, the wounds Sendou gained were starting to heal as he let himself stand with Oliver, and Oliver couldn't have been happier accepting this fact.
Yes, it was worth it.
Their hands didn't separate, finding solace in each other.