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The chemistry lab always reeked faintly of rubbing alcohol and hydrochloric acid, no matter how many times Mr. Hinata sprayed it with febreeze. The fluorescent lights hummed, blinds half drawn against the courtyard noise, where Touya likely was. Keigo sat sideways on one of the lab tables, long legs crossed at the ankle, lunch balanced in his lap. Mr. Hinata was at his desk with a stack of quizzes, red pen tapping idly. It was always quieter here at lunch time.
Some would say that eating lunch in a teacher’s class was hitting the lowest of lows. Keigo would disagree: he believed that title went to those grotty kids that ate and vaped in school bathrooms. He’d much prefer the smell of metal to go with his rice than the stench of dung. His best friend, Rumi, had left high school this year, so he didn’t want to keep intruding and hanging out with the girls volleyball team. The cafeteria was too noisy, so he settled for the second best option.
“You should’ve seen her,” Keigo said around a large mouthful of rice. “I mean, objectively? She’s the prettiest girl in third year. Perfect hair. Perfect skin. I’m not even convinced she sweats. She posted a picture on Instagram, and when I zoomed in, there were no pores on her face.”
“Filters.” Mr. Hinata didn’t look up. “And?”
“And Touya just… said no.”
The situation this morning had been a bit of a shock to his system. Chinami was possibly the most gorgeous girl he had seen in a long time — and Keigo didn’t even bat for that team — with her silky black hair, gentle eyes, and not to mention her figure. She’d cornered Touya after morning soccer practice by his locker, and asked if he had gotten her letter in his locker, and wanted to go on a date. Touya flat out rejected her, not even letting her down gently. Just flat out. No.
Mr. Hinata’s red pen stopped midair, and he looked up at Keigo like he was disturbed. “No?”
“Flat no.” Keigo snapped his fingers. “Didn’t even hesitate. She was practically leaning into him after practice, and he just goes, ‘Not interested.’ I felt really terrible for her. She’s super nice. Even to me. And I don’t understand what Touya’s thinking is. Basically every guy wants her.”
Mr. Hinata leaned back in his chair. “What, you suddenly turn straight because you saw a pretty girl?”
Keigo snorted. “Please. I still like Touya.”
It was a simple fact, like the sky being blue, or stating the weather. Keigo had debated it in his head a few times, but still came to the same conclusion every time. He could pretend that it was just the urge to date a rich boy in hopes of a better life, but Keigo could have literally picked anyone else if that was the case. He really, really liked Touya Todoroki, whether it was a good decision or not.
Mr. Hinata groaned. Touya was one of his problem students, at best. “Why?”
Keigo grinned at the ceiling. “Because he’s—” He stopped himself, then shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s an idiot.”
He shovelled another mouthful of sticky rice and chicken into his mouth, chewing and swallowing like he had somewhere to be.
“Your standards are impossibly low.” Mr. Hinata sighed, swivelling his chair towards his computer and sending out emails.
Keigo stared at the periodic table on the wall, thinking back to a moment during one of their chemistry sessions where Touya was desperately trying to distract him by making terrible chemistry pickup lines (his best of the night being: Are you made of copper? Because I can Cu in a relationship with me). The memory sat warm and familiar in his chest, equal parts embarrassing and steady. “Sometimes I think he might like me.”
“Delusion is a powerful thing.” Mr. Hinata laughed, though not to ridicule.
“I’m serious,” Keigo insisted. “Last tutoring session? He kept staring.”
“Staring at the worksheet, I hope.”
He replayed it in his head without meaning to. He was awfully stuck in his head nowadays, thanks to Touya. The way Touya had leaned in close under the pretence of reading the notes over his shoulder. They’d been so close that their knees had knocked together, and Keigo could smell the apple shampoo that he had been using in his delicate white hair. Keigo wanted to run his fingers through it. He thought about the way Touya’s eyes had lingered just a second too long before snapping away like he’d been caught stealing.
Keigo gulped.
“And then,” he continued, unable to stop himself now that he’d started, “I had to drop off newspapers around the super posh area that he lives in, and he had forgotten his chemistry stuff, so I brought it over. He answered the door shirtless.”
Mr. Hinata pinched the bridge of his nose. “I did not ask for that detail.”
“I’m making a point. He didn’t even try to cover up! He just stood there, all…”
“Takami.”
“He had ketchup in his hair,” Keigo went on, ignoring him. “Like, actually in his hair. I think it was probably from his younger siblings. The whole place smelled like French toast, so he was probably cooking. He cooks.”
Mr. Hinata paused. “Cooking. Really?”
“For his siblings,” Keigo said softly. “His parents weren’t home.”
There was a small shift in the air at that. Mr. Hinata’s gaze sharpened just slightly, brows furrowing in concern. “They’re often not?”
Keigo shrugged, but it wasn’t careless. “I guess. They’re usually not there when I go to tutor him, even though it's his dad that pays for it. But I think Touya only lets me come over when it's just him, anyway. I–I mean, usually I’ll see his younger sister and one of his younger brothers, but his mom and dad are usually busy.”
Keigo didn’t want to say too much. Often, he noticed things that he didn’t say. He noticed how tense the house always felt, not a thing moved out of place. It barely even seemed lived in. Not to mention how paranoid Touya always seemed when one of his siblings came into the room, asking for something. He never said anything about it to Touya. It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it.
So he’d ignored it all, for Touya’s sake. Even the screams, when his parents had returned from a hero gala one night. Touya didn’t want to talk about it. Nor did Keigo.
Mr. Hinata cleared his throat, noticing Keigo a little lost in thought “I truly do not need to hear about you thirsting over a shirtless minor, though. Keep that to yourself. I’ve been seventeen once already.”
“I’m a minor too!” Keigo cackled, forgetting about Touya’s difficult situation for a bit, “And it’s not just that that I like about him.”
“Mm.”
“It’s not,” he insisted, more firmly now. He stared down at his lunch, appetite fading. “He tries harder than people think he does. He just doesn’t want anyone to see it, so he acts all cool. And he’s really good with his siblings. I almost envy them for having a brother like that, since I don’t have any siblings. I love his stupid laugh; I don’t mean the one he does with his friends when he doesn’t actually find them funny, I mean like… when he really laughs. It’s like he forgets about putting up a front and it's… And he looks at me — well, it’s kinda more like staring, if I’m honest — like he’d burn the world down to see me laugh. He does things on purpose to make me laugh— you’ve noticed too, right? I’m not deluded, right?”
“‘Noticed’ would be an understatement. I’ve spoken to him about it. Multiple times.”
“Sometimes, I think he likes me.” Keigo said, softer, a flush rising up his neck, “Sometimes I think I make it up.”
Keigo had never been loved before, not by his parents, not by his family around him. He didn’t know how it felt. He didn’t know where to draw the line. When to stop, and call something flirting, in comparison to just being nice. It was easier to label it as niceties. It was safer.
Mr. Hinata wasn’t grading anymore. He wasn’t even looking at Keigo after his monologuing. He was looking at the doorway.
A strange, uncomfortable feeling crawled up his side as he glanced towards the door.
Touya stood there, a chemistry textbook folded against his firm chest along with a few stapled papers. His soccer bag was slung over his shoulder, hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat of lunchtime practice games with his friends. His face was bright red. And not the natural flush from exercise. The red travelled up his neck, cheeks, all the way up to his ears.
How much had he heard? Had he heard Keigo raving about his personality, and his smile, and— God, had he heard about the shirtless comments. Keigo was going to crawl into a hole and live single and miserable for the rest of his life. It was official.
Touya cleared his throat, choosing this moment to finally knock on the classroom door. “I, uh.” He lifted the textbook slightly, like proof of innocence. “Homework question.”
“Of course you do.” Mr. Hinata nodded his head for Touya to come forward.
Touya didn’t look at Keigo. Not even once. His jaw was tight, like he was bracing for impact. Keigo was suddenly very interested in the mechanism of pushing around rice with his chopsticks. If he didn’t move, was he invisible? Would Touya notice if he chose this moment to bolt out of the room? Would he bring this up at their next chemistry session?
Keigo’s train of unhelpful thoughts was interrupted by a buzzing. A phone, vibrating on Mr. Hinata’s desk. He picked it up and stood, dusting off his hands. “Keigo, why don’t you help him? You’re so good at… explaining things. I need to take a call.”
“I—”
His teacher was already out of the classroom before he could finish. The door shut behind him, and Keigo didn’t move his eyes. He desperately didn’t want to look at Touya right now. He was alone. With Touya. In a chemistry lab. This was potentially the worst thing that could happen to him right now. The beginning of one of his many night time fantasies had actually manifested into its physical form.
Touya didn’t have the same aversion. Touya stepped further inside, dropping his bag onto a chair. He propped himself up next to Keigo on the table, and opened the textbook with unnecessary force, flipping to a random page. Touya was aiming for casualness and missing by a mile. “Question three. What’s the deal with it?”
Keigo glanced up despite himself. Touya’s hands were trembling slightly where they gripped the book.
“You’re on chapter six,” Keigo said weakly, his finger drifting to the number in the far left corner of the book. “The homework we got is at the end of chapter four.”
Touya blinked down at the page. “Right.”
Keigo’s heart was pounding so loudly he was sure it was audible. He tried to focus on the diagram in front of him, but the only thing he could think about was every word he’d just said. Question three. Focus. He read it through once, then twice.
- What type of bond is formed when a shared pair of electrons are not shared equally, and the atoms have different electronegativity values?
“Oh,” Keigo’s voice shook, “It’s, um, polar. Because the electrons aren’t shared equally, it creates a positive and negative dipole at either end. And they’re permanent dipoles, so it’s polar.”
“Oh.” Touya breathed out, his soft lips pressed in a tight line as he slammed the textbook shut.
For a moment, they just sat there, two idiots in a silent chemistry lab, red-faced and breathless over things neither of them said out loud. Touya took a deep breath and got off of the table. “Thanks…”
Touya’s eyes didn’t leave him for a moment. Keigo was burning up. He could feel it from his head to his toes. Keigo just looked down at the ground, shame creeping through him, chest tight. Touya turned, making his way out of the class, looking back as he got to the doorway, and then leaving.
Keigo buried his face in his hands. He was so fucked.