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Keishin stares blankly down at the issue of Shōnen Jump in his hands. No matter how long he looks at it, the text doesn’t seem to register in his mind, and the quiet of the convenience store doesn’t help in the way it normally does. In fact, in some ways it feels downright distracting. He’d think that the calm of the store at noontime would be a relief after his early hours on the farm and evening work with the volleyball team, but instead it feels strangely… lonely.
The bell on the door chimes, breaking Keishin from his daze. He looks up and opens his mouth to greet the customer, but the words die in his mouth, replaced by, “Takeda-sensei?”
“Ukai-kun,” Takeda says, his warm tone matching the soft smile on his face. Keishin struggles to ignore the butterflies in his stomach when faced with this combination.
“Did you need to talk to me about something?” Keishin asks, setting his magazine aside. “Hinata and Kageyama’s grades aren’t slipping again, are they?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” Takeda laughs, waving off Keishin’s concerns. “I was actually just going to pick up something to eat. I woke up late this morning and forgot to pack a lunch.”
“Oh,” Keishin replies. Part of him can’t help but be a little disappointed that he’s not actually the reason for Takeda’s visit. “Well, unfortunately we don’t have much real food here. There’s pork buns and pre-packaged onigiri, but that’s about it.”
“So, not too different from my college diet,” Takeda says, sounding amused.
That’s the one advantage of staying in town with his parents and not going to college, Keishin thinks. At least he always has decent, homecooked food. The thought of living off overly-processed onigiri and ramen makes him feel vaguely sick.
“Don’t bother with the onigiri,” Keishin finds himself saying, and Takeda’s brow furrows up in confusion. “I have some fresh rice and curry left over from lunch. I’ll heat it up for you.”
“Really?” Takeda asks, his face lighting up. “I wouldn’t want to impose – ”
“I need you alert for volleyball practice,” Keishin snorts, standing up from his chair and stretching. “You won’t be if all you’ve had to eat is junk food.”
“Thank you,” Takeda replies, smiling that cute smile of his again, and Keishin has to fight a blush.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” he mutters, turning away and hoping Takeda doesn’t notice the light pink dusting his cheeks. He ascends the stairs to the living area above the shop and busies himself with heating up the food, trying to distract himself from the warm feeling in his chest.
Thankfully his parents are off visiting his grandfather. Not that they’d think anything of him giving food to a friend - it’s something he does for the neighborhood association often enough. Still, he can’t help but worry that they’d somehow read too far into things and realize that maybe he’s not just interested in being Takeda’s friend.
They’re mostly okay with his bisexuality, he thinks, ever since they caught him kissing a teammate in his third year of high school. Still, his parents insist that he adopt if he ends up marrying a man.
(When he marries. They’re made it very clear that the marriage part at least is non-negotiable. He’s honestly a little surprised they haven’t started campaigning for marriage equality in Japan, considering how invested they are in him having a spouse.)
He tries to push those thoughts to the back of his mind and spoons the rice and curry onto a plate. The pattern on it is a little faded, but it isn’t chipped or cracked - not that Takeda is likely to be inspecting the quality of his dishes.
When Keishin gets back downstairs, Takeda’s still leaning against the counter, looking a little awkward. He relaxes when Keishin comes into view, though, his face lighting up a little. That might just be because of the food, though, Keishin tells himself.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Keishin says, setting the food down on the counter and pulling up an extra chair for Takeda.
“It’s fine,” Takeda replies, smiling again as he accepts a pair of chopsticks from Keishin. “You didn’t actually take very long. Thank you so much for the food.”
“Say that after you taste it,” Keishin snorts. He personally thinks his cooking isn’t half bad, and it’s hard to mess up something as simple as rice and curry, but he still can’t help but feel a little self-conscious as Takeda takes his first bite.
“Well, it doesn’t look burned, so that automatically makes it better than anything I could make,” Takeda laughs after swallowing his mouthful of rice. “I burn practically everything I try to cook.”
“How do you manage that?” Keishin asks, quirking an eyebrow at Takeda.
“Well, sometimes I try to read while I cook,” Takeda admits, sounding a little sheepish, “but then I get too distracted by my book.”
“You’re lucky you haven’t burned your apartment down yet,” Keishin says, belatedly realizing that he’s using the same tone of voice he uses when he’s scolding the Karasuno boys. “You sound like you need a supervisor or something.”
“Are you offering, Ukai-kun?” Takeda asks, catching Keishin off guard.
“Well,” Keishin says slowly, “I guess I could.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Takeda replies quickly. “I don’t mean to impose.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Keishin assures him. “I’ll be getting free food out of it, at any rate.”
“Provided I don’t burn it,” Takeda laughs, and Keishin’s lips twitch up into a small smile.
“Aren’t you inviting me over specifically so you don’t burn it?” Keishin asks, amused.
“That’s the goal, but I might find a way to sabotage it anyway,” Takeda answers. “I’m not exaggerating when I say that everything I cook gets burned.”
“Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me, then,” Keishin replies, his tone teasing. “Does Friday work for you?”
“My schedule’s wide open,” Takeda says easily.
“Really?” Keishin asks, frowning slightly. “The teachers don’t go out on Fridays or anything?”
“Oh, well, some do,” Takeda replies, sounding a little embarrassed, and Keishin curses himself for making things awkward. “That’s not really my scene, though.”
“You seemed to do fine when we were out with the coaches in Tokyo,” Keishin says, brow furrowing. “I actually think your alcohol tolerance might be higher than mine.”
“Some of the other teachers are really into karaoke,” Takeda explains, grimacing slightly, “and I’m a horrible singer.”
“Isn’t that the point?” Keishin asks, letting out an amused snort. “No one’s good at karaoke if you’re doing it right and have had enough to drink already.”
Takeda shrugs his shoulders a little, gazing down at his half empty plate and not quite meeting Keishin’s eyes. Keishin clenches his teeth and tries to think of some way to regain the casually comfortable atmosphere they had going earlier.
“Hey, maybe I’ll have to take you out and show you real karaoke sometime, then,” Keishin says, and Takeda looks up to meet his eyes, clearly surprised. “Your voice can’t be any worse than mine.”
“Well, I did hear you sing that one time while you were cleaning,” Takeda replies, his lips quirking up into a small smile. “You weren’t half bad.”
“That – ” Keishin sputters, his cheeks going pink. “We don’t talk about that.”
“We don’t?” Takeda asks, smile broadening into a full-fledged grin.
“We don’t,” Keishin replies, his tone firm.
“Alright,” Takeda laughs. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“Good answer,” Keishin smiles, returning Takeda’s smile. “So, does after practice on Friday sound good? For the cooking.”
“It sounds good,” Takeda replies, scraping the last bits of rice and curry sauce off his plate.
“Is there anything specific you want to make?” Keishin asks, amused at how Takeda looks a little like he wants to lick the remainder of the curry sauce off the plate.
“Something simple,” Takeda says wryly. Keishin lets out a soft snort at that.
“Do you like okonomiyaki?” he asks, mentally running through the process and trying to determine if it’s within Takeda’s (non-existent) skill level.
“Sure,” Takeda replies.
“It’s pretty simple to make,” Keishin assures him, grabbing a nearby notepad and jotting down a short list of ingredients. “It’ll be a good place to start, I think.”
“You really are a natural teacher,” Takeda says, making Keishin look over at him, surprised. Keishin’s sure that his crush is distorting his perception at least a little, but Takeda’s expression almost looks fond.
“What?” he finally manages, cheeks flushing a little.
“It’s like you’re preparing for volleyball practice,” Takeda answers, indicating the list of ingredients. “You’re thinking about what equipment we’ll need, and my skill level, and what will help me improve my problem areas.”
Keishin blinks at him, a little caught off guard. He hadn’t been trying to approach the situation the same way he does coaching – well, not entirely – but it looks like he’s somehow slipped into teaching mode without even realizing it.
“Ah, sorry, Sensei – ” Keishin says, a little sheepish.
“Don’t apologize,” Takeda interrupts, smiling that cute smile of his again. “I think it’s great!”
“Still, I didn’t mean to talk down to you,” Keishin replies, frowning slightly.
“You weren’t,” Takeda says, shaking his head. “Part of being a good teacher is also being a good student, I think. You’re more experienced when it comes to cooking, so I’m happy to listen to your advice.”
“I think you’re giving me too much credit,” Keishin replies, trying to ignore the flush creeping up his neck at Takeda’s compliments. “It’s just okonomiyaki.”
Takeda looks like he wants to say something to that, but instead he just lets out a little sigh. He reaches over and accepts the ingredient list from Keishin, looking it over before pocketing it.
“Well, I have to get back to school now,” Takeda says, standing up from his chair. “I’ll see you at practice, though.”
“See ya, Sensei,” Keishin replies.
Takeda shoots him one last smile before leaving, and Keishin tries not to look forward to Friday too much. He mostly fails.
---
They walk back to Takeda’s apartment after practice on Friday. Keishin sorely hopes that Takeda can’t tell how nervous he is. He feels like his heart’s beating overtime and he’s half convinced that it’s loud enough for Takeda to actually hear.
Not that he has anything to worry about, really. They’re not on a date or anything – he’s just helping Takeda cook without burning anything. It’s just a friend thing. Sure, they’ll be alone together in Takeda’s apartment, and cooking together is something of a couple activity, but it’s not –
It’s just not.
“It’s not much,” Takeda says, breaking Keishin from his thoughts as they enter the apartment. “I like it, though.”
“Seems nice,” Keishin offers, peering around the room. The main living space is maybe a little on the small side, but it doesn’t feel cluttered. On the far end is a kitchenette, partially separated, but not actually a separate room. To his right is a hallway, which he assumes leads to the bathroom and Takeda’s bedroom.
It’s kept fairly neat, and Keishin wonders a little if it’s normally this tidy, or if Takeda had cleaned up a little in advance. Still, there enough touches of clutter and little imperfections that it still feels lived in.
“The kitchen’s over here,” Takeda says, as if that weren’t obvious, and Keishin wonders if maybe Takeda’s a little worried, too. He can’t come up with any reason for Takeda to be, though.
“You have all the ingredients?” Keishin asks, walking into the kitchen area. It’s also on the small side, and he hopes they don’t end up bumping into each other too much. It’s always distracting being in close proximity to Takeda, and the last thing he wants is to lose his focus while working with kitchen knives and a hot stovetop.
“Yes, I went shopping yesterday,” Takeda replies, opening the refrigerator and rummaging around to retrieve the ingredients. Keishin busies himself with finding Takeda’s cutting boards and knives, setting them up on the small counter space.
“You any good at chopping vegetables, Sensei?” Keishin asks as Takeda sets a cabbage, leeks, and a few other assorted vegetables down on one of the cutting boards.
“Ittetsu,” Takeda says, making Keishin blink at him in confusion for a moment.
“What?” Keishin replies.
“We’re not coaching right now, Ukai-kun,” Takeda elaborates, a small smile on his face. “There’s no need for such formality.”
“Then you better drop the formality, too, and call me Keishin,” Keishin replies, before tacking on, “Ittetsu-san.”
“Alright,” Takeda says. “Keishin-san.”
Keishin feels his cheeks flush slightly as Takeda – or, rather, Ittetsu – says his name, and hopes his cheeks aren’t stained a bright red now. He turns away, grabbing the cabbage and the largest of the knives and setting them up on one of the cutting boards.
“Here, you chop the cabbage while I mix the flour,” Keishin instructs, brushing past Ittetsu to look through the cupboards in search of the ingredients he needs. “We probably only need about a third of the cabbage.”
“Alright. I’ll try not to lose a finger,” Ittetsu replies, his tone light.
“I hope that was a joke,” Keishin says, pausing to glance back at Ittetsu. The knife he’s holding now looks remarkably large in his (comparatively) small hand.
“I’ve never injured myself with a knife,” Ittetsu laughs, slicing the cabbage cleanly. “Thank you for your concern, though.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t really wanna spend my evening in the emergency room, so,” Keishin replies, shrugging and trying to keep his tone light.
“You should start worrying about that when we get to the actual cooking part,” Ittetsu says. “I’ve burned my fingers a couple of times.”
“I guess I’ll have to keep a close eye on you once we turn on the stove,” Keishin drawls. Of course, it’s difficult for him to keep his eyes off of Ittetsu, so watching to make sure he doesn’t accidentally burn himself on the stove shouldn’t be any hardship.
They fall into a lull of silence for a few moments as Ittetsu continues to chop the cabbage and Keishin starts mixing the batter.
“How’d you learn to cook?” Ittetsu asks, finally breaking the silence.
“Well, my mom would get me to help her when I was a kid,” Keishin answers, shrugging. “Mixing ingredients and chopping things and stuff. When I was in middle school, she started teaching me how to use the stove, and by the time I was in high school, I figured out that if I was the one cooking dinner, I got to choose what we ate.” His lips twitch up in a small smile as a memory comes to the forefront of my mind. “Well, within reason. My parents said I wasn’t allowed to make tempura more than twice a week.”
“That sounds nice,” Ittetsu says, a soft smile on his face. “Neither of my moms are very good at cooking.”
“You parents are divorced?” Keishin asks.
“Um, no,” Ittetsu replies, and there seems to be a sudden nervousness to his tone. “I just have two moms.”
“Oh,” Keishin says when the implication clicks.
There’s a nervous tension to the atmosphere now, replacing the casual one they had earlier. Keishin hesitates for a moment, trying to think of an appropriate response.
“I’m bisexual,” he blurts out, making Ittetsu look over at him in surprise. “So I don’t, uh, have an issue with you having two moms or anything.”
“Oh,” Ittetsu says, and for a moment Keishin thinks he almost looks hopeful. About what, though, Keishin can’t begin to guess. “Me too.”
Keishin is suddenly, uncomfortably aware of how close they’re standing to each other. He’d just have to lean a few centimeters to his left for their shoulders to be touching, and part of him desperately wants to press himself up against Ittetsu and kiss him breathless.
“Have you, um,” Ittetsu starts, sounding a little hesitant, “Have you told your parents?”
“Oh, they know,” Keishin snorts. “They caught me kissing Sato Ryota in my third year of high school. They’re okay with it as long as I adopt, like, three kids if I marry a guy.”
Ittetsu lets out a little laugh at that, soft and sweet, and Keishin can’t help but think for a moment that adopting kids with Ittetsu wouldn’t be that bad. Hell, they already have a whole team of high schoolers who kind of seem like their kids sometimes.
But, well, he’s getting ahead of himself. Just because Ittetsu’s bi doesn’t mean Ittetsu’s attracted to him, and he sure as hell shouldn’t start thinking about marriage and kids when they haven’t even established that much.
“You already have a whole volleyball team. Isn’t that enough?” Ittetsu teases, as if he’s read Keishin’s mind.
“Wouldn’t that make you my husband?” Keishin says automatically, before thinking better of it.
“I suppose it would,” Ittetsu laughs, shooting Keishin a smile.
It feels like the atmosphere’s changed somehow, Keishin thinks. There’s a new tension, but it’s a good one almost, not like the uncomfortable one earlier. In fact, it almost seems like Ittetsu’s flirting with him, just a little.
That might just be his wishful thinking, though.
“Should I add this to the batter?” Ittetsu asks, bringing Keishin back to reality.
“Yeah,” Keishin replies, moving aside to let Ittetsu add the chopped cabbage and leeks to the bowl of egg and flour mixture. “We can probably start getting the stove ready now.”
“Let’s see if I can manage to not burn anything this time,” Ittetsu says, his tone light as he pulls a frying pan out of one of the lower cabinets.
“Well, I’m here to run damage control,” Keishin replies, lips twitching up into a small smile.
“My hero,” Ittetsu laughs, and Keishin feels his cheeks heat.
He pushes Ittetsu’s teasing from his mind, though, instead instructing Ittetsu on how to heat up the pan, and when to add the bacon and okonomiyaki batter. Thankfully that proves to be a sufficient distraction, although occasionally Keishin finds his thoughts straying to how cute Ittetsu looks with his face scrunched up in concentration.
“Now, remember that the pan’s heated up now, so the second one will take less time to cook,” Keishin says when they remove the first golden-brown pancake from the pan.
“Alright,” Ittetsu replies, adding the second batch of batter. “Although I have to say, even if I mess up this one, I’m calling this night a success. This is probably the first time I’ve made something that hasn’t turned out looking like charcoal.”
“I guess it’s a step in the right direction,” Keishin snorts.
The rest of the okonomiyaki turns out surprisingly well, although the last one is a little singed around the edges. Ittetsu doesn’t seem too put out by that, though, too focused on the un-burnt ones.
“Thank you for helping me with this, Keishin-san,” Ittetsu says when they’ve finally sat down at the small kitchen table to eat their okonomiyaki.
“I didn’t do much,” Keishin replies, shrugging.
“Considering this is the first time I’ve managed to not burn my dinner, I think you did quite a bit,” Ittetsu counters, shooting Keishin a smile.
“I’m sure you can manage it on your own now,” Keishin says after swallowing a bite of food. “As long as you don’t try to read while cooking again.”
“Maybe – ” Ittetsu starts, taking in a deep breath. “Maybe you could come over again to make sure I don’t get distracted by my books.”
“Like another cooking lesson?” Keishin asks, studying Ittetsu carefully.
“I was thinking more like a date,” Ittetsu replies, and for a second Keishin thinks he’s heard wrong. “If you’re interested, that is. If you’re not, just forget that I – ”
“It’s a date,” Keishin interrupts, a grin spreading over his face.
Ittetsu smiles back.
---
(The next time Keishin comes over, Ittetsu does get distracted while cooking, but that has more to do with Keishin’s tongue in his mouth than any of his books. Thankfully the food is only a little burnt.)