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Kei was not one to blush, to falter against sweet wordings. He held a stoic face his whole life, apart from the occasional snickers at his fellow teammates or the smug look he gave the team on the other side of the net after he’d outsmarted them.
But he most certainly did not blush. Maybe in another world, his face was more expressive, and he wouldn’t have to spell things out to certain idiotic orange-headed boys sometimes.
Either way, Kei does not blush. His face does not flush. He does not go red. And he most definitely doesn’t look like—
“You’re—You look like a strawberry, Tsukki!”
Damn it.
“No, I—I don’t.” Kei cursed at his nervous stutter.
Tadashi edged closer to the looming boy, shuffling himself on the traditional bench they were perched on.
“You totally do.”
The proximity could make Kei burst.
They were sat together in a park near sunset. The flowers had begun blooming early, and what was left of the sun was shining against Tadashi’s glowing features. This was a textbook date—a cliché—and Kei had fallen right into it. He had to admit the setting Tadashi had chosen for their weekend outing sounded a little different from what they were used to, but this was ridiculous. It was like the scene was made for his best friend, and it had gotten right to Kei. He wasn’t sure if this was Tadashi’s plan—to humiliate him—but he wasn’t too fond of it.
“You do! You’re so red, Tsukki!”
And here he was, humiliating Kei.
Kei was running out of comebacks.
“Yamaguchi—I’m not!”
Tadashi had somehow inched even closer to Kei, their thighs rubbing against each other’s. Soft was all Kei could think when he felt Tadashi’s bare, tan thigh touching his. This was becoming all too much.
“You’re blushing! You are!” He carried on, seemingly very amused by the reactions he was riling out of Kei.
Now, there were ways to go about this. One: he could let Tadashi tease him and wait for it to blow over (not happening anytime soon). Two: he could indulge and let his best friend fawn over him and his bright face. Or, three: he could turn it around.
Kei let himself breathe in an attempt to cool down, his “strawberry-like” blush slowly weakening, his stutter slipping. He rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, well, it’s hard not to when you look like that.”
Kei leaned into Tadashi’s face as he gawked, his pupils dark and growing the closer Kei got. He tucked a stray strand of Tadashi’s mossy hair behind his ear to really push him off the edge.
Tadashi faltered, easily.
“W—What? Looking like what?” he giggled adorable-y.
Kei hummed, keeping his act up. “Hmm? I’d say you look pretty cute right now.”
“Cute?”
Tadashi coughed as of though all the air in his lungs had suddenly melted. “What a-are you talking about, Tsukki—“
Kei held the now flustered Tadashi’s face in his palm, rubbing his slim fingers against his cheek.
It was too easy, really. Kei had seen Tadashi like this before—a couple of times. When he’d get out of the shower with only pajama pants on, when he’d say the boy’s given name. Although, now that Kei was thumbing his face, Tadashi had never looked so in awe. His pupils fully expanded, locked onto Kei himself.
“Ts—Tsukki…” he muttered softly, as if Kei had done much more than just simply complimenting him. Not that Kei was complaining.
Tadashi pouted, his pink lips soft and just begging for Kei to intrude.
He bit his bottom lip, the flesh darkening—and that was it. Kei could die now.
No, not yet. He wasn’t done.
“You’re always watching me, Yamaguchi.” He leaned in closer. “Like you’re waiting for something. Are you?”
Kei nudged Tadashi’s plush lips and circled the tip of his nose with his index finger.
“Come on, speak up.”
Tadashi looked like he was about to burst. Kei did feel somewhat bad for teasing him, but he started this game, and Kei always won.
“I—I don’t watch you.” He finally spoke.
“You don’t?”
Tadashi shook his head repeatedly.
“I must admit I’m hurt by that. You’re a bad liar, Tadashi.”
Then he was stood up—Kei swore he could see steam coming off his bright face.
“OKAY! I have to get going! G-Goodnight, Tsukki!”
Kei sat, unsurprised. Tadashi always became overdramatic like this when he would pester him. He didn’t blame him, but one day the teasing would stop. Either he would slip from Kei’s fingers, or they’d become something more.
He hoped it was the latter.