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"Te-ru-shi-ma,” Sawamura sings straight into Terushima’s ear, giggling to himself at the scowl this causes.
“I told you to stop doing that.” Terushima pauses for a second, hoisting Sawamura’s legs up where they’ve slunk down and gripping onto his thighs tighter. “And stop wriggling.”
"Te-ru-shi-ma,” Sawamura coos, slotting his chin over his shoulder and staring intently at the side of his face. “You don’t have to carry me you know!” The way his eyes droop closed as if he’s a breath away from falling asleep makes Terushima believe otherwise. “I can walk.”
"No, I don’t think you can.”
“Mhm,” Sawamura rumbles, “I can walk. And I can run. And I can jump.” His voice trails off into a sigh. Terushima thinks he’s actually fallen asleep, a blessing in disguise as maybe he can get them back without any more fuss. But then Sawamura giggles, hiccupping as his eyes slide open. “Who would have thought Johzenji’s Playboy would be carrying me home?”
“Who would have thought Karasuno’s Sturdy Foundation would be such a light-weight?” He bites back, twisting his head to glare at Sawamura pouting over his shoulder.
“I’m heavier than you.” He says, voice petulant in a way Terushima’s never heard before.
“And yet I still managed to drink you under the table.” Or onto the floor in this case.
“Not fair!” Sawamura pulls his head back and then flops forwards heavily as he almost slides off of Terushima’s back. “A delinquent like you has had years of practice.”
“Oh? And I suppose a goody two-shoes like you never gets drunk?”
“Maybe once or twiiiice,” Sawamura hedges. “But not for a long, long time.” He hums, breathing in deeply and relaxing more of his weight onto Terushima.
“Oh?” The challenging way Sawamura had caught his eye across the table earlier made him believe differently. “So why the change tonight?”
“I didn’t want to lose to you.” Sawamura lifts up an arm and lazily pokes Terushima in the forehead. “I always beat you.” He doesn’t say it in a mean way, as if he thinks he’s better than Terushima, but as if this is the only thing he is sure of in his life. The sun will rise tomorrow, autumn will be followed by winter, flowers will bloom in the spring and Sawamura will always beat Terushima.
“You’re wrong.” Terushima tells him, smile curling at the corner of his mouth, “I already beat you years ago.” Sawamura jolts up, turning to look at him eye to eye; their faces only a breath away from each other. Sawamura’s eyes are wide and alarmed.
“How did you-”
“I’m an inch taller than you.” Terushima sticks his tongue out, not missing the way Sawamura’s gaze drops to stare at his piercing, and blows a raspberry right into his face.
“Oh.” Sawamura’s face burns red, the grip his arms have around him suddenly falling lax. He looks down at them, at the steady way Terushima’s carrying him, and shudders. “Terushima.” He whines it this time.
“Shut up already. We’re almost there.” Terushima nods his head in front of them where the campus building has edged into view at the end of the road. He knows Sawamura’s moved into a flat share, but he said it wasn’t too far from campus and he’s hoping he’ll be able to navigate their way even in this state.
“Please put me down, it’s just a sprained ankle.” Sawamura kicks his legs as if to illustrate his point.
“You fell out of a train door.” And onto the platform. In front of half a dozen witnesses and one off duty police officer who had looked at them in a way that Terushima knew meant they needed to make a fast getaway. He’d never seen someone try to hobble away so dignified before tonight.
“It was your fault!” Sawamura huffs, his breath sprinkling across the back of Terushima’s neck and leaving goose bumps in its wake.
“Oh?” Sawamura leaning on the ‘open’ button of the door, acting surprised when the doors opened and toppling straight onto the floor outside is nobody else’s fault but Sawamura’s. Terushima might be half responsible for the amount of alcohol they’ve consumed, but anyone would be excited about bumping into their high school crush in a bar in Tokyo. Even more excited than when he’d first seen him at volleyball try-outs and realised that they’d wound up at the same university. After all this was the first time he’d seen Sawamura outside of a volleyball environment; tight jeans really worked for him. “I don’t remember pushing you…”
“You distracted me.” Sawamura kicks him with his good leg.
"No I didn’t.” Of all the things Terushima has been wrongly accused of this one might be the worst.
“Yah-huh, you did.” Sawamura nods into his shoulder, “you did that thing with your tongue. It’s very distracting.” Terushima stops walking.
“What thing with my tongue?” He feels rather than sees Sawamura freeze up. For the first time since he was forcibly yanked off of the floor Sawamura is completely still.
“That thing where you… you have a tongue.” Sawamura’s voice sounds smaller than before, and if Terushima isn’t wrong slightly more sober. “And when you talk sometimes I see it.” Sawamura swallows. It’s such a small movement, only detectable because their bodies are pressed so closely, but it sparks something in Terushima. He takes in a deep breath.
“Daichi.” He’s never said his first name out loud before. If he’s wrong, then he can always pass it off as being a little drunk himself. A startled squeak leaves Sawamura, his entire body tremoring as he shudders out a breath. Terushima feels dangerous; there’s no way he’s wrong after that kind of a reaction.
He starts walking again, faster this time, more determined, and he can’t tell if it’s seeing Sawamura fall and land crumpled back at the train station, or the cold night air whipping his face, but he’s never felt more awake in his entire life. His body is buzzing with energy. And a small part of him is scared that if he doesn’t act now then the magic of this moment will slip through his fingers.
“Terushima,” Sawamura sounds breathless, if not a little confused as they make their way into the campus dorm building, “I told you, I don’t live here anymore.”
“I know.” He tells him, looking down at Sawamura resting on his shoulder. “I’ll walk you home in the morning.”