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Nobody used the dorm kitchen late at night or early in the morning. Ushijima didn't enjoy staying up late, so he never used it then either, but very early in the morning, before he went on his daily jog, he made small breakfasts for himself.
Now, the mornings followed this routine: Ushijima woke up even before the sun could, and he preheated the oven while he had breakfast. He baked -- something simple and easy, such as cake or cookies -- and he left them on the kitchen counter with a note for the intended recipient. Then he jogged as usual, and came back for a shower, changed, and went to school.
Tendou leaned against Ushijima's desk with knowing intent, his mouth light and smug. "How goes the 'baking'?"
"I'm not sure."
"What do ya mean?" Tendou claimed the desk next to Ushijima's. It wasn't his, but lunchtime gave him free reign.
Ushijima's mouth fixed to the side in a slight hesitation. "I'm starting to think that people are still eating it despite the note."
Tendou sighed. "You're too trusting. Just leave it in front of Kenjirou's door."
"Won't people still eat it then?"
"Oh. That too, that's true." Tendou's head swayed to the side, too slow to be the complete effect of gravity. His eyes closed with a wordless hollow noise. They snapped open a couple moments later, and the sudden grin made Ushijima stiffen. "Sneak into his room and leave them there."
"No," Ushijima said immediately.
"Why not?"
"I don't want to invade his privacy. It's rude."
"I'm sure he leaves his door unlocked."
Ushijima shifted, uncomfortable with the thought.
Tendou sat back and leaned his elbow over the back of the chair. "So you see, it's his own fault."
Ushijima looked at the wood of the desk. "We should tell him something."
"Then he'll know who tried getting into his room! Just trust me, Wakatoshi, bake your stuff, leave them in his room, nice and safe, and don't do anything else."
"Alright." Ushijima nodded. "I'll do it."
"You've already been doing it for like two weeks on your own." Tendou clapped his shoulder and laughed. "Kenjirou's very lucky."
Ushijima startled at the touch. He recovered and scratched his neck. "I don't have any idea how Shirabu feels."
"I find it hard to believe that he doesn't feel the same. Why else would he be so nice to you?" Tendou nodded twice, leaving space in between to give noises of approval. "I'm almost jealous. I want that kind of deal."
Ushijima stared.
"I hope you know I didn't mean that with Kenjirou. I'd rather pet a porcupine than get involved with him."
"A porcupine..." Presented with both images, Ushijima couldn't reconcile them. Shirabu was not a porcupine.
Tendou leaned forward. "So what're you going to bake next? Can I have some?"
Ushijima grimaced, and straining to hold it in made it worse. Tendou pieced it together and snorted.
"You can't eat from the same batch as Shirabu," Ushijima explained. "That's disconcerting."
"My bad." Tendou stood from his seat. "But if you need any advice at all about this, I'm your guy."
"Really?"
"Really."
A frown surfaced on Ushijima's face. "But I think I know more about Shirabu."
Tendou raised a finger and brought it slowly to his own nose. "Do you know anything about romance, though?"
"No," Ushijima admitted.
"Then I'll come in handy." Tendou cracked his hands together. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go. I'll be right back."
Ushijima watched him leave with suspicious tremors in his shoulders, and a hand over his mouth, muffling indecipherable sounds.
Against his own judgment, Ushijima followed Tendou's advice. He made chocolate chip cookies the next morning, and he arrived at Shirabu's door.
His hand froze on the doorknob. Shirabu didn't wake up early like him and conveniently leave his room; he hated getting up early in the morning. He had to be asleep. If Ushijima stepped inside, Shirabu might wake up. He couldn't deliver anything.
He hurried back to the kitchen. It remained empty. The sky was still dark outside, but it was dark blue and glowing, awakening with the sunrise. Ushijima couldn't stay long.
Ushijima fumbled with his phone to dial Tendou's number. He didn't consider that Tendou was likely sleeping too, and he didn't realize it until Tendou's sleepy mumble answered.
"What? What is it?" Tendou asked in vague syllables, the normal pronunciation gone.
"You said you'd help me with Shirabu if I needed it," Ushijima said quietly.
"...At this hour? You're out of your mind." Tendou groaned and rolled over.
"This is usually when I bake him everything."
Tendou yawned. "So what's the problem?" He collected himself into an easier voice, but the delivery was still bleary.
"I tried going to his room this time. He's asleep. I can't go in there."
"Sure you can."
"No."
Tendou muttered something incomprehensible. Ushijima only caught, "This isn't fun at all."
"What am I supposed to do? This was your idea."
"You're right, you're right." Tendou let out a heavy sigh. "Leave it in front of his door, then."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. Just don't get caught. That'll be embarrassing."
Ushijima's attention concentrated in his line of sight instead of answering.
"I shouldn't've said that. Oops." Tendou cleared his throat. "Nothing terrible's gonna happen. Go out and do it."
"Thanks, Tendou."
"Now you can't deny that I'm a true friend, helping you in your literal darkest hour. Good luck." Tendou hung up, accompanied by a self-made beeping screech.
Ushijima lowered his phone and let its weight sway in his hand. The first time he approached Shirabu's room a few minutes ago, he did it without any thought or fear, but now he felt weighed down by the prospect of doing it again.
He kept his phone in his hand for physical reassurance and tried again. The hallways were still empty, but the sun continued to rise. Soon more people would wake up.
Ushijima triple-checked the floor's clearance before he stopped at Shirabu's door and deposited a napkin of food. He paused and decided to tie it up and hide the contents.
He walked at a brisk pace to the corner and leaned against the wall. No one saw him. He flattened his hand on his chest to steady himself, and his heartbeat filled his fingers and illustrated his nervousness to himself.
Since Ushijima strived to be anonymous, he couldn't tell if Shirabu liked them or not. All he knew was that everything was eaten each time.
Ushijima didn't want him overeating. Two weeks of small amounts of sweets each day had to be enough, so he began to stagger the baked goods. On the day he stopped baking daily, he left nothing, and he encountered Shirabu on his way out the dorm building to the first class of the day.
Shirabu's eyes flickered with hesitant confusion, his eyebrows drawing together without seeing Ushijima slow to stay beside him.
Ushijima bent a little lower. "What's the matter?"
Shirabu jerked and clutched his school bag. "Oh, god, you scared me."
"Sorry." Despite the apology, Ushijima didn't hide the fact that he stared and watched him respond and recover, Shirabu's eyes wide and full of surprise in one moment, and the next, back to his leveled brightness. On the court, Ushijima didn't have the luxury to spend time gauging and understanding Shirabu's face in surprise, and what it looked like. Shirabu was rarely surprised by anything off the court.
And this reminded Ushijima of one of Shirabu's many strengths. Shirabu could recover himself, and he could do it with a reversal of time that should be impossible, like a film sequence that could be played backwards and forwards without a discernible difference. He looked the same before and after.
Shirabu's hand slid down the bag strap. "What'd you ask? You said something when you scared me."
"You look disappointed. I want to know why."
Shirabu answered with a breath of a laugh. "It's not important."
"What is it?"
"It's embarrassing."
Ushijima didn't ask again, but he kept his gaze, insistent on maintaining it at a respectable calmness.
Shirabu rubbed his neck. "Someone's been leaving cookies and cupcakes around for me. Lately it was in front of my door. Today there wasn't any, and I was used to them," he finished, his voice subdued with self-awareness.
Ushijima considered what to say. He couldn't go along immediately as if he knew what was happening. He deliberated and chose his answer.
"Why?"
"I don't know." Shirabu shrugged. He turned his head, and the slight appearance of his teeth on his bottom lip described his sudden sheepishness with an image that Ushijima could appreciate.
"Why do you think they've left you gifts?"
"I honestly can't tell. The notes only say 'for Shirabu'." Shirabu coughed. "We should hurry up for class, or we'll be late."
He leaned into a faster walk ahead. Ushijima caught red streaks on Shirabu's face as he passed, and he felt deep satisfaction.
"Wakatoshi! Wakatoshi!" Tendou yelled from the end of the hallway. He devolved into various bird calls that didn't resemble any real birds, screeching them in a desperate code.
He was dragging Kawanishi with him. Despite the assertive clutch of his hands on Kawanishi's arm, gripping him with the snare of a handcuff, Kawanishi didn't appear guilty or distressed. He walked at a nonchalant pace up to Ushijima.
"I saw you leave a slice of cheesecake in front of Shirabu's door a few days ago," Kawanishi said unprompted.
Ushijima swallowed. "What?"
"I'm sorry you have to see this, Wakatoshi, but it's the only way." Tendou swiveled and placed his hand on Kawanishi's head. "We have to get rid of the evidence, and the evidence is you," he said in a deep and menacing tone, his voice striking the wrong syllables and losing all affected intimidation.
Kawanishi shrugged him off. "I don't care about actually getting involved, but I wound up telling Tendou, and he won't believe me that I don't care," he said to Ushijima.
"You told him on accident?" Ushijima asked.
"In a way."
Ushijima dipped his head, his thoughts weighing him. "So it's possible that you might tell Shirabu on accident," Ushijima said carefully.
Tendou grabbed Kawanishi's arm again. "I knew it! He's a, what do ya call it, a liability."
Kawanishi stepped away from him. "I won't make the same mistake again now that I've been terrorized enough."
Ushijima considered his response with a hum. "Alright. Don't tell anyone else."
"Hopefully, I'll forget." Kawanishi snorted, and his mouth stretched to a grin. "It's kind of funny seeing Tendou and Shirabu run around with their heads cut off, though."
"What do you mean by Shirabu?"
"He has no idea where they come from or why. The first time he didn't even want to eat it, since he's paranoid, but I knew they're from you, so I ate them. And I didn't die, so he ate them, and then never shared with me again."
"Tragic," Tendou surmised. He leaned to Ushijima to whisper, "We can use him, y'know."
"How?"
Tendou hooked his arm around Ushijima's shoulders, and he caught Kawanishi's eyes with a glint. "He can ask Shirabu stuff and do all your dirty work."
"Do I have to?" Kawanishi asked. "Ushijima, you don't want me making anything worse, right?"
Tendou edged closer. "The only way he can make things worse is if he flat out tells Kenjirou who you are, and even Taichi is better than that."
Ushijima wanted to applaud Tendou on complimenting Kawanishi at the same time as hauling him into another painful endeavor, but he didn't want to go down the same road as Tendou. "What do you mean, 'dirty work'?"
"Taichi will ask Kenjirou alllllll about what he thinks about what you make and--"
"No," Kawanishi interrupted, suddenly succumbing to vehemence.
"Yes."
Ushijima stepped back. "Maybe I shouldn't get involved."
"Wakatoshi, you are the most involved. You can't change your mind." Tendou pointed at Kawanishi. "Submit to our will, Taichi."
Neither of them could leave until Tendou convinced Kawanishi to agree. Tendou won.
Ushijima allocated time and attention to admire Shirabu on the court. Not when he himself was playing, but on the bench, during warm ups, on practice breaks, or when he paused to line up for a drill as Shirabu participated ahead -- it was surprisingly easy to catch Shirabu without also catching his eye. There were plenty of opportunities to find him, and Ushijima executed stealth well. He hid most of his reactions under his expressionlessness, a natural consequence, and he could smooth a response into something else.
Tendou sidled next to him. "Have you thought about actually confessing?" He asked in a low whisper. "Cutting to the chase? Doing away with all the baking fuss? Unless you just love baking, in which case you should've said something sooner. I'll eat all you make."
Ushijima's eyes shifted. "I don't want to stop yet."
"Oh? Why not? Got a baking itch after all? Or are you..." Tendou leaned closer, "nervous?"
"I want some more time to think."
"You're fidgeting." Tendou elbowed him. "What's there to think about?"
"Tendou?"
"Yes?"
Ushijima glanced down at Tendou's elbow. "Please don't talk about this while we're in the gym."
Tendou pulled away with a lazy grin. "Okay, okay. Probably for the best, anyway." Tendou stretched his arms behind his head. "Let's bug Taichi after practice, then."
Ushijima didn't voice any opposition to that. And true to his word, Tendou cornered Kawanishi and trapped him into the uncomfortable obligation of spilling any of his friend's available secrets.
"Does Kenjirou have any idea who it is?" Tendou asked.
Kawanishi crossed his arms. Everyone had left the gym now, and they were the only three standing in front of it, using their very slow walk as their excuse.
"No. And I can't exactly push him to say it, either. That'd be awkward."
"Awkward," Tendou repeated.
"I know that's beyond your understanding, but it's when you make someone feel uncomfortable, and they want to leave."
"So what else?" Tendou asked to move on.
Ushijima brought himself to ask, "Does he enjoy them?" A bubble of reluctance still occupied his throat, uneasy with directly taking advantage of Kawanishi, but if he didn't say something, Tendou would wrangle it out himself.
"Of course he does."
"Can you elaborate?"
Kawanishi burst out into a brief explosive laugh. "No."
"Why not?"
"I don't exactly remember."
Tendou leaned in to Ushijima. "Terrible informant. Don't recommend him."
"Do you need anything else? I have homework to do." Kawanishi glanced at the sky. "It might rain soon, too."
Tendou returned and raised a finger. "Do you know who he likes?"
"If I had to guess, I'd say Ushijima."
Tendou's hand fell. "Wow. You're terrible at this."
"I'm an unwilling participant," Kawanishi defended.
"You're bitter, too."
Ushijima raised his arm to stop Tendou from asking any further. "Be that as it may, you have nothing helpful to say, and Tendou has nothing helpful to ask, so I think we should all go home for the day."
"Fine," Tendou said. "But you should try figuring out Kenjirou's favorite dessert or something," he told Kawanishi.
"That'd be way too suspicious. What if he thinks I'm the one doing all this for him?"
"You're a terrible cook."
"No I'm not."
"I'm asking you to be a terrible cook."
"He already knows I can cook. He's seen me in the kitchen."
Tendou grumbled. "Let's go, Wakatoshi. We aren't getting anywhere with Taichi."
Ushijima led them away. For a couple steps, as short as a moment, Kawanishi moved closer to Ushijima.
"Please get this over with soon and just confess," Kawanishi advised in a mumble. "I need some peace."
Tendou didn't give any indication that he heard, but Ushijima cocked his head to Kawanishi and regarded him with a glance.
Ushijima's heart leapt out of his chest when he jerked awake in the middle of the night. He was so disoriented that his breath flashed across his consciousness instead of inflating his lungs. His eyes eyes snapped open, and he met the subdued darkness of his room, moonlight falling through the window and playing against the plain walls. He blinked to adjust as he rolled out of bed for the bottle of water on his desk.
The quiet sunless air reminded him that it was cold, and he shuffled back to his bed in a hurry and dove under the blankets. The rush of a chill made him grimace.
Nothing could make him forget about his dream, though. It was more of a fantasy than a dream when he consciously pushed it and thought about it sometimes, but he still dreamt about it tonight. Shirabu had been kissing him. Ushijima could barely bring himself to remember or imagine specifics, and everything came in a vague sleepy haze, like a soft punch to his stomach. This time he only remembered Shirabu sitting over his lap and straddling his legs to hold them in place as he kissed him, both of them sitting upright. Shirabu didn't kiss hard, but he still managed to burn the air out of him, and Ushijima's heart crossed the boundary of fantasy and remained beating and thudding in awakening. Ushijima blamed his sudden melting weakness on the involuntary reaction.
He gathered his pillow in his arms and slumped over it a little. He wasn't supposed to be awake at this hour, and he was tired. This came as a terrible time for any kind of introspection or speculation. He tightened his pillow in a hug and returned to lying down.
Cold still bit at his legs and arms, lingering at odds with the lopsided unwanted heat in his face and chest. He shifted his legs. Thinking about Shirabu made him as restless as Shirabu. He clutched his pillow closer and continued thinking about him.
It didn't help that the first thing Ushijima was going to do when he woke up was cook for Shirabu again.
In the absence of any other productive ideas, Ushijima improved his cooking skills. He baked macarons, decorated cupcakes with edible flowers of frosting, and on occasion, made full meals instead. Sometimes he made breakfast, and sometimes he made lunch, hoping to see if Shirabu ate it at school.
Only Kawanishi knew, but Tendou coerced him to tell them.
"You're going above and beyond. You're spoiling him," Kawanishi said. Awe still managed to float his voice, and the teasing made Ushijima warm. He didn't know Kawanishi as well as he knew Shirabu or Tendou, but acknowledgment from a friend of Shirabu's was a good sign.
"That was intentional. I want to spoil him. He deserves it."
"..Do your best not to infect Shirabu with lovesickness." Kawanishi shook his head. "Anyway, he really liked the bento lunch you made two days ago, where you shaped the rice into a dog."
"And what was your favorite?" Tendou asked.
"Why would I have a favorite?"
"You didn't try eating anything?"
"Of course not." Kawanishi glanced at his fingernails. "I'm not you."
"Why'd he like it?" Ushijima pressed.
"I don't know. It was cute, I guess."
Ushijima rubbed his chin. "Cute..."
"Why don't you just get it over with and confess?" Kawanishi asked. "It'd save everyone a lot of time and hassle."
"Let him do it how he wants." Tendou nodded. "Wakatoshi should get the best, too."
"Ushijima, are you saying you'd like it if things stayed this way forever? You're graduating this year. You're running out of time," Kawanishi said.
Tendou gawked. "Taichi, that's harsh!"
"It's the truth, though?"
Ushijima held his hand out to quell them. "He's right, Tendou. I shouldn't waste too much time."
Kawanishi hummed. "You're undeniably wrong, for once."
"What're you going to do, then, Wakatoshi?" Tendou asked. "Do you have an idea?"
"...No."
Tendou opened his mouth.
"Don't give him 'advice'," Kawanishi said.
"What should we do, then?"
Kawanishi placed his hand on Tendou's arm. "Nothing."
Instead of coming up with a solution, Ushijima spent more time on Shirabu, more than usual. He worked harder on expanding his dish repertoire so Shirabu wouldn't be able to guess who he was by the kinds of meals he tended to make for himself. Ushijima didn't want to push anything else that could potentially reveal his identity, but he couldn't help fitting in more glimpses, or glancing longer at Shirabu's back, or even staring more directly, and more often.
There were certain places Ushijima never looked. They weren't just out of the question, they never crossed Ushijima's mind to begin with. He didn't have the capacity to willingly cross certain boundaries.
Shirabu dove to receive a ball from the other side of the net, in an intramural practice match. Ushijima turned to look in the expectation that Shirabu would reach it.
Shirabu did. He sent it up in the air with a quick save, but at the same time, he crashed onto the floor on his stomach. His legs remained still for a moment. Ushijima's eyes traced a course up his leg.
From the angle Ushijima normally saw Shirabu, he could see legs and shorts, and nothing else. Ushijima wasn't a cloud-watcher. He processed everything in sight with literal interpretation, and he only saw clouds for clouds, he didn't imagine them as animals or shapes like Tendou did.
On the floor, though, and from his distance, Ushijima saw the shape of Shirabu's legs slope to something else. The muscle of his thighs was thicker up his leg, forming the slight beginnings of the curve of his butt before disappearing under his shorts.
Ushijima forced himself to look away. His face flushed deep and hot, and he lost the ability to place his hands comfortably, too aware of them in the sudden atmosphere.
"Are you alright?" Reon asked Shirabu.
Shirabu pushed himself off the ground. "I'm fine." He dusted off his knees and elbows and returned in front of the net.
Ushijima windmilled his arm to stretch it. Tendou slid closer.
"You usually don't do idle things like stretch extra."
Ushijima didn't say anything back. He stopped stretching and stepped slightly away from Tendou.
Tendou broke into an abrupt laugh, and he was so unprepared for it that he started choking. He coughed several times to recover and clear his throat.
"Tendou, what're you doing? We're in the middle of practice," Shirabu complained.
"I was in the middle of choking," Tendou rasped with a hand on his throat.
"It sounded like you were laughing."
Semi served from the other side of the net, and the practice match continued, indifferent to Tendou's suffering. Tendou didn't initiate any more conversation until practice ended.
"I have an idea," Tendou said, shrinking closer to Ushijima as everyone headed to the locker room.
"What is it?"
Tendou shielded the side of his mouth, obscuring himself from public view. "I'll tell you when the coast is clear."
Despite the statement, Tendou concealed his eagerness poorly. He carried a slight bounce in his steps and fought a grin, and his enthusiasm demonstrated contagiousness when Goshiki followed along. Ushijima's interest was piqued.
They stepped outside and drifted away from the group of team members on their way home. Ushijima moved his hand to Tendou's shoulder.
"Now no one can hear what you have to say. What's your idea?" Ushijima asked.
Tendou nodded. "It's about Kenjirou," he prefaced.
Ushijima turned more to look at him, distancing himself and moving taller. "Go on."
"It's like this: if you 'accidentally' choke with Kenjirou around, then he can give you mouth-to-mouth and save you."
Ushijima grimaced. "That's a terrible idea," he said right away.
"But it'd be so great! Right out of an anime." Tendou remained undeterred. "Why's it a terrible idea?"
"I don't want... It's wrong."
Tendou raised an eyebrow. "You usually know how to finish your sentences. Are you nervous, Wakatoshi?"
Ushijima's silence spoke for him.
"Nervous? Can't even think about kissing him, huh?" Tendou's mouth slipped into a stretch of a smile that warned Ushijima of upcoming mischief. "You should. Imagine. You're k--"
"That's enough of that, Tendou," Ushijima interrupted. His shoulders had climbed a little to his ears.
Tendou nodded, and the movement segued into a tilt, his head swaying to the side. "So do you know what you're going to do next?"
Confusion filled Ushijima's face. "What do you mean?"
"You said the other day that you want to eventually confess. You need to graduate from pining sometime. How're you going to do it?"
Ushijima crossed his arms and looked ahead. "I don't know how to talk to him."
"At all?"
"At all."
"Don't you talk to him often?"
"No," Ushijima said quietly. "I would like to. He's not that talkative, and I don't know what to talk about."
Tendou raised his fist to his chin, his knuckle poised in thought. "Why don't you think of him as a dog? You're comfortable with dogs. Pretend he's a harmless one. You should be able to talk to a dog. Problem solved."
Ushijima considered it with a glance to the sky. "I'll try it. Thank you, Tendou."
"No problem. What're friends for?" Tendou patted him on the back.
Ushijima approached Shirabu after convincing himself to talk. Practice had ended, and the team was winding down with cleaning and lazy ball throwing. Shirabu was resting against the wall in exhaustion, taking his time to get going. Ushijima didn't feel any fatigue. He strode towards Shirabu with a purposeful speed.
"Shirabu, you did well today," Ushijima said.
Shirabu turned. His slowness displayed confusion. "Thanks."
Ushijima nodded. "I've been meaning to tell you how much I appreciate you."
Tendou lingered near them, pausing in his walk. He tilted his head and listened. He still attempted to follow on his momentum and take a step, trying to maintain the illusion of slow walking, like he wasn't dedicated to eavesdropping.
Shirabu searched Ushijima's face, his eyes flickering. "Really?"
"Yes. You mean a lot to me." Ushijima lifted his hand to Shirabu's head to ruffle his hair.
Tendou's suggestion worked. Ushijima didn't experience any nervousness from speaking with him. He imagined him as a small dog, not literally picturing him in the image of one but regarding him with the sentiment, upholding him as an approachable friend.
Shirabu ducked slightly, and one of his eyes narrowed into a squint, like he was blinking against sunlight. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Why?"
"You're acting weird."
Ushijima's hand stopped, but he didn't remove it. "Oh, I didn't think so."
"It's...alright." Shirabu sighed. Ushijima heard hesitation in it.
Ushijima smoothed his hand on Shirabu's head. "Well, you've always done a great job, and you should know. Good boy."
Shirabu choked. "What?"
Tendou had to hold his stomach in his guffawing laughter, and his eyes watered. His free hand pointed at Ushijima. "Wakatoshi!"
Ushijima turned. "What? Did I do something wrong?"
Tendou's face turned red from laughing. He inflated his cheeks trying to stop himself.
"What did you just say?" Shirabu asked. His face was red too, but his averted eyes meant it was for a different reason.
"I--"
Tendou managed to move forward and muffle his hand over Ushijima's mouth. "Wakatoshi...! Stop!" Tendou leaned and snickered into his shoulder before forcing out, "That's not what I meant...!"
Shirabu's face fell into expressionlessness. "Tendou, what did you do?" he asked flatly. "Did you tell him something?"
Tendou shook his head. "He did it on his own!"
Shirabu bit his lip, and the image against the furious red growing on his face compelled Ushijima to look at him. Shirabu was clearly angry. The sentiment mixed with his grimace and twisted nose spelled out embarrassment, too, and Ushijima felt it creep up his neck in sympathy.
Shirabu burst into a run towards Tendou. He chased him for several minutes, yelling at him and making empty promises to ruin his life, but the double effort of running and scolding winded him so much that he had to stop and rest against the wall. Tendou started laughing again.
Ushijima walked up to Tendou in the aftermath. "Why were you laughing?"
Tendou snorted, threatening to laugh again. "There're some things that're crossing the line, Wakatoshi. Only call dogs 'good boy'." He wiped an invisible tear from his eye. "I haven't laughed that hard in a long time."
"Should I be embarrassed? Shirabu seemed to be."
"No, you don't really need to be. It's enough that Kenjirou's embarrassed." Tendou covered his mouth and turned to cackle.
Ushijima was still capable of feeling embarrassment. He couldn't recognize it if it existed outside of his own experience, such as not understanding why Tendou's most recent advice backfired horribly. There was nothing embarrassing about dogs. Considering Shirabu as a dog made him feel better, too, somehow.
Ushijima was very, very capable of understanding his embarrassment when he knew exactly what he was getting himself into. He decided to listen to Kawanishi's advice over Tendou's, for once, and he needed to prepare a plan to give the truth. It had to be simple, foolproof, and able to be executed without Ushijima stumbling over nerves. It was impossible to eliminate all anxiety, so Ushijima still dreaded anything he was going to do, but the thought of deepening friendship with Shirabu compelled him to act.
He adjusted the basket of brownies under his arm and stepped out the door. He had already jogged and showered, and he lingered around until he knew it was time for Shirabu to wake up. He intended to give today's gift in person.
Shirabu opened the door before Ushijima could place his hand on the doorknob. Shirabu's eyes were closed, free of frowns from being relaxed and sleepy, but his face was too nondescript to be anything close to happy. Wrinkles covered most of his sleep-rumpled pajamas from tossing all night. Ushijima knew Shirabu was normally restless in his sleep, and his clothes and sheets suffered. Shirabu's bed almost never had its sheets and comforter in any order.
Shirabu startled and jolted backward a step. "Ushijima? What're you doing here?"
"I came to give you this." Ushijima extended his arms to present the basket.
Shirabu stood taller for a moment, bright with curiosity. He deflated a little and sighed. "Not you, too."
"Excuse me?"
Shirabu opened his door further. "I already don't know who keeps leaving me food. Why're you doing it?"
"I..." Ushijima brought his lips together, dodging a frown and rolling them together in a hesitant pause. "I'm bringing you your food right on time like I usually do."
"You don't bring me any..." Shirabu's face slipped into disbelief. "What?"
Ushijima's hands shifted on the basket, renewing Shirabu's attention to it. Ushijima broke eye contact and turned his head.
"You? You're the one who's been...why?"
"I secretly admire you," Ushijima said, deciding on the words Tendou used once to describe the circumstances of giving anonymous gifts.
Shirabu twitched. "You... You like me?"
Ushijima accepted his speechlessness as a sign that he was nervous, too. Ushijima waited for him to respond properly.
"Ushijima? Do you? Do you like me?"
Ushijima's fingers curled. "Yes," he said quietly.
Shirabu raised his hand to his face, shielding his mouth and gathering his thoughts behind it, away from Ushijima's eyes. The periphery of a smile still appeared around his hand, unable to stay hidden.
He took the basket from Ushijima and turned to place it on his desk. "You don't have to stand there all day. Come inside."
Something in Shirabu's face curled Ushijima's stomach. It reminded him of when Tendou grinned just before he did something irresponsible or embarrassing, or when his eyes sparkled and glinted instead. Shirabu didn't present any readable mannerisms like Tendou, but the streamlined intent of his eyes left a similar impression as he regained his composure and stepped closer to Ushijima.
"How long?" Shirabu asked.
Ushijima frowned. "How long...?" His thoughts slipped a beat at the new distance.
"How long have you felt this way?"
Ushijima considered in a pause. It definitely hadn't been a sudden revelation, otherwise he'd remember the day. It was for the best, as well; Ushijima liked things to be succinct or absolute, but Shirabu needed to be the exception. There wouldn't be much meaning from a relationship or feeling that could be described in one sentence. Shirabu was too complicated to be contained, and Ushijima wanted to always find something new with him.
"I don't know how long," Ushijima admitted. His mind flitted to all the times Shirabu looked after him -- offered him water, collected his jacket and folded it, shared an umbrella, asked him about his favorite tosses and spikes, and encouraged his opinion. Sometimes Shirabu opted to linger behind people to quietly stay beside him. Despite their infrequent conversation, Ushijima did appreciate the leisurely companionship that came like a soft hum to his nerves. Tendou's easy chatter couldn't bring that out. Tendou thrived on noise, and Ushijima couldn't find consistently comfortable silence with anyone else.
Shirabu licked his lips. Ushijima glanced at the movement, and it occupied him past the point of being able to notice Shirabu's hand creeping toward his school uniform tie. Shirabu tugged on it.
Ushijima stumbled in surprise, and everything dropped; his stomach, his collectedness, his head. Shirabu caught his mouth in a kiss and let gravity handle the distance. Shirabu's hand remained fisted in his tie, and his other hand pulled on his collar and secured him in place.
Ushijima stiffened. Shirabu's pressed softly against his, from both the pressure and the natural quality of his lips. Shirabu couldn't reach him easily, so his mouth could only offer a light presence, nudging into Ushijima's mouth while rising on his toes. Shirabu's eyes closed. Ushijima kept staring at him, and if anything his own eyes grew wider. He didn't stop staring. His mouth opened in the same floundering sentiment, dropping slightly in unconscious surprise, and taking a small breath.
Shirabu wedged in closer for a moment and moved his mouth to fit in Ushijima's, but he quickly pulled away and broke the kiss. He didn't seem as nervous as he first did when Ushijima appeared at his door without warning. Ushijima knew he could be expressionless and unreadable sometimes, and he wouldn't know or tell the difference if he didn't also have the same problem. The assumption comforted him.
"Thanks for all the food," Shirabu said, his mouth suspiciously twitching. Ushijima suspected it was a smile.