Work Text:
The rain had started sometime during their final class, soft enough at first that nobody paid much attention to it. By the time the last bell rang however, it was striking the classroom windows in steady silver lines, turning the courtyard outside into a blurred wash of grey pavement, dark trees, and umbrellas opening one after another. Yamaguchi stood beside his desk with his school bag hanging from one shoulder, watching the downpour with growing concern.
“I was completely certain the forecast said it would stay dry until this evening,” he said, mostly to himself. “I even checked twice because my mother reminded me to bring an umbrella, and I told her she was worrying for no reason.”
Tsukishima, who was still seated beside him took an unreasonable amount of time to place a single notebook into his bag, glancing toward the window.
“You should probably stop treating the weather forecast like a legally binding contract.”
Yamaguchi turned to him with a faintly wounded expression.
“That is not fair. It said there was only a ten percent chance of rain.”
“And now you have learned that ten percent does not mean impossible.”
“I already understood that mathematically.”
“Apparently you miscalculated.”
Yamaguchi sighed and looked back outside. Students were already hurrying through the school entrance, some sharing umbrellas and others holding bags over their heads as they ran.
“I suppose I can wait for it to calm down.”
Tsukishima closed his bag and stood. “It is supposed to rain for the rest of the afternoon.”
Yamaguchi slowly turned back toward him.
“How do you know that?”
“I checked the forecast.”
There was a brief silence and Yamaguchi narrowed his eyes: “You just criticized me for trusting it.”
“I criticized you for trusting the wrong part of it.”
“That does not make any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense, you checked this morning and I checked ten minutes ago.”
“You could have mentioned that before I started planning to spend the rest of my life in this classroom.”
Tsukishima lifted his bag onto his shoulder: “I assumed you would eventually notice that I have an umbrella.”
Only then did Yamaguchi see the long black umbrella leaning against the side of Tsukishima’s desk, looking back and forth between it and Tsukishima.
“You were really going to let me stand here worrying when you already knew we could walk home together?”
“I was waiting to see how dramatic you would become.”
Tsukishima is known for his stoic facial expressions but for those who know him, like Tadashi does, one can see the tiniest of smiles on his face, like a shadow hanging on his lips. Yamaguchi’s expression softened despite himself, he would never tell a living soul, but these details he sees in Tsuki are somewhat of a weak point for him. Additionally, there was something almost dangerously comforting about the word together. It should not have mattered. They walked home together often enough that neither of them ever needed to formally suggest it. They had taken the same route since they were children, through different schools, different seasons, different stages of awkwardness.
Still, recently, ordinary things had started feeling less ordinary. The way Tsukishima waited for him outside the changing room after practice, even when Yamaguchi took too long, the way his shoulder always seemed to brush Yamaguchi’s when they walked side by side, the way he had begun noticing the exact shade of gold in Tsuki’s eyes whenever the afternoon sun caught them. It was becoming difficult to behave as though nothing had changed when, as far as Yamaguchi could tell, absolutely nothing had. He cleared his throat and adjusted the strap of his bag.
“Well, in that case, I suppose I will allow you to rescue me.”
Tsukishima gave him a flat look.
“You make it sound as though I fought through a storm to reach you.”
“You waited beside me with an umbrella while pretending you had no solution to my problem. That feels at least mildly heroic.”
“It was mostly entertaining.”
“Even heroes can have questionable motives.”
Tsukishima shook his head, but Yamaguchi caught the faint movement at the corner of his mouth again. They left the classroom together and by the time they reached the entrance, most of the students had already gone. The covered area outside was almost empty, and the air smelled of wet earth and cold concrete. Tsukishima opened the umbrella with one hand, and Yamaguchi stepped under it, then immediately realized there was a problem. Technically the umbrella was large enough for two people, Tsukishima, however, was tall enough to make sharing any enclosed space feel slightly ridiculous. He held the umbrella high above them, but because his arm was longer, the canopy naturally tilted toward his side. Yamaguchi had to move closer to avoid the rain running off the edge onto his shoulder.
Through the close proximity , their sleeves brushed and Tsukishima looked down at him.
“You are walking strangely.”
“I am trying not to get wet.”
“You are nearly standing on my foot.”
“I cannot help it when you hold the umbrella as though I am standing several centimeters farther away.”
“You are several centimeters farther down.”
Yamaguchi stared at him. “Tsukii! That was unnecessary, I’m not that much shorter than you.”
“Still short enough which makes my argument accurate.”
“You could lower the umbrella.”
“If I lower it, I will hit myself in the head.”
“That sounds like a problem created by your own excessive height.”
Tsukishima moved the umbrella slightly, angling it more toward Yamaguchi. The adjustment brought them even closer, Yamaguchi’s upper arm pressed against Tsukishima’s side, and for several steps neither of them spoke. The warmth of him was startling through the thin layers of their school uniforms. Yamaguchi was suddenly very aware of every movement, Tsukishima’s hand around the umbrella handle, the quiet sound of his breathing, the occasional shift of his shoulder whenever the wind pushed rain beneath the edge. It should have been easy to step away, instead Yamaguchi stayed exactly where he was. When they reached the first crossing, the wind changed direction sharply. Rain swept sideways beneath the umbrella and Yamaguchi flinched as several cold drops struck his face. Before he could react, Tsukishima’s free hand came up and settled against the back of his head, the movement was quick, almost automatic.
He pulled Yamaguchi closer, guiding him partly against his chest while tilting the umbrella toward the rain. Yamaguchi froze, for a moment, he could hear nothing but the water striking the fabric above them. Tsukishima’s palm was warm against his hair, his chest was solid beside Yamaguchi’s shoulder. The position was protective in such an unguarded way that Yamaguchi’s thoughts seemed to stop entirely. Then the light changed and Tsukishima lowered his hand.
“You should pay attention instead of staring into the rain,” he said.
Yamaguchi followed him across the street, struggling to make his voice sound normal.
“I was not staring. The wind changed suddenly.”
“The wind has been changing since we left school.”
“That does not mean I can predict exactly when it will throw rain into my face.”
“You could at least avoid reacting as though the weather personally betrayed you.”
Yamaguchi looked up at him, Tsukishima’s expression was composed, but the tips of his ears had turned faintly pink. That small detail gave Yamaguchi enough courage to smile.
“You could also admit that you were worried I would get soaked.”
“I was worried you would complain about being soaked for the entire walk home.”
“That still counts as concern.”
“It counts as self-preservation.”
Yamaguchi laughed softly, Tsukishima did not answer, though he kept the umbrella tilted carefully over Yamaguchi for the rest of the walk. They had nearly reached the street where their routes usually separated when the rain intensified again. It fell so heavily that the pavement disappeared beneath a bright, shifting sheet of water. Yamaguchi stopped beneath the awning of a closed bakery.
“This is getting worse.”
Tsukishima stood beside him and looked toward the road.
“You live farther away than I do.”
“Only by ten minutes.”
“That is long enough for your shoes to fill with water.”
Yamaguchi glanced down at them. “They are already halfway there.”
Tsukishima gave a quiet sigh.
“You can come to my house until the rain calms down.”
Yamaguchi looked up too quickly.
“Your house?”
“Wat? It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s close and it’s dry, that’s the most important thing right now.”
Yamaguchi smiled and stepped back beneath the umbrella.
“All right. I will come with you.”
Tsukishima’s house was only a few streets away, they reached it with damp socks, wet trouser hems, and shoulders pressed together beneath the umbrella. The moment they stepped inside, Tsukishima closed the door behind them and set the umbrella in the entryway. Yamaguchi removed his shoes and looked down at the puddle forming beneath them.
“I should probably apologize to your floor.”
“It has survived worse.”
“You say that as though Akiteru-san regularly arrives during a flood.”
“He spills things, so it’s almost the same.”
“No it’s not! That’s totally different!”
Tsukishima walked toward the stairs, then glanced back.
“Don’t worry about the floor, com on up, you can borrow something dry.”
Yamaguchi hesitated.
“T-there’s no need, I-I’m only a little wet.”
“Your uniform is sticking to your arms.”
Yamaguchi looked down and realized begrudgingly Tsukishima was right. The fabric of his shirt had darkened at the shoulders and sleeves.
“That sounds much worse when you say it like that.”
“It looks uncomfortable and you’ll only get sick if you stay in those wet clothes ”
“I do not want to take your clothes without asking.”
“You are not asking if I offered it first, now stop talking and get up and change.”
“That is not what I meant.”
Tsukishima paused on the first stair.
“You have known me for most of your life, and yet you still act as though borrowing a shirt requires legal paperwork.”
“I am trying to be polite.”
“You are trying to make a simple situation exhausting.”
Yamaguchi followed him upstairs.
“You could make it easier by sounding less annoyed while offering me things.”
“I’m not annoyed.”
“You always sound annoyed.”
“That is simply my voice.”
“I know, but sometimes your voice has different levels of annoyance.”
Tsukishima opened his bedroom door.
“And what level is this?”
Yamaguchi considered it seriously.
“Moderately inconvenienced, but secretly not unhappy.”
Tsukishima looked at him over his shoulder.
“You are becoming unbearably confident.”
“I have known you for most of my life. I should be allowed to recognize your patterns.”
Tsukishima walked to his wardrobe and pulled out a dark sweatshirt and a pair of loose track trousers and held them out. Yamaguchi took them, the sleeves immediately unfolded over his hands, he stared down at the clothes.
“These are going to be enormous.”
“That is because you are short.”
“I am a perfectly ordinary height.”
“You are standing beside the wrong person to make that argument.”
“It is not my fault you distort the comparison.”
Tsukishima leaned against the wardrobe.
“I can find something smaller if you would prefer to remain wet for another ten minutes.”
“No, this is fine. I simply need to prepare myself to disappear inside your clothes.”
Tsukishima’s gaze lowered briefly to the sweatshirt in Yamaguchi’s hands, something in his expression changed, almost too quickly to notice, then he looked away. Yamaguchi went to the bathroom to change quickly, the sweatshirt was even larger than he had expected, the hem reached almost halfway down his thighs, and the sleeves covered his hands completely unless he pushed them back. The trousers had to be rolled several times at the waist and ankles. When he stepped back into Tsukishima’s room, the taller boy was sitting at his desk, looking at his phone. As he entered the boy looked up, fixing his glasses, then he stopped moving. The sudden halt in movement made Yamaguchi shift under his gaze.
“I-I told you it would be too large.”
Tsukishima’s eyes moved from the sleeves hanging over Yamaguchi’s hands to the oversized collar resting loosely around his neck.
“You look ridiculous.”, still the tip of his ears turned slightly pink.
Yamaguchi frowned. “You did not have to say it so quickly.”
“I did not say it was bad.”
“That does not make it better.”
Tsukishima set his phone down.
“The trousers are going to fall.”
“I rolled them.”
“I don’t think that they’ll stay rolled up for long.”
“They have survived the walk from the bathroom.”
Yamaguchi folded his arms, the sleeves swallowed his hands completely. Tsukishima stared at him for another second, then turned away, though not before Yamaguchi saw his ears turn pink again. A strange warmth spread through Yamaguchi’s chest, he walked toward the bed and sat carefully on the edge.
“You keep looking at me.”
“I am checking whether my clothes are being permanently stretched.”
“How would that work? You are taller than me, I am not capable of stretching them.”
“You could damage them through carelessness.”
“Does it really matter? You’ve have owned this sweatshirt for years.”
“That does not mean I want you to destroy it.”
Yamaguchi ran his fingers over the sleeve, it smelled faintly of laundry detergent and something familiar that he always associated with Tsukishima’s room, clean fabric and old books and the citrus soap his family used.
“I will treat it with great respect.”
“That sounds suspicious.”
“You are the one who gave it to me."
“I am beginning to regret that decision.”
Yamaguchi smiled.
“No, you don’t.”
Tsukishima looked at him, for once, he did not immediately respond, the silence lasted just long enough to become noticeable. Yamaguchi’s smile faded into something softer, whilst outside, rain tapped steadily against the window. The room felt warmer than it had a moment before and Tsukishima finally turned back toward his desk.
“You can sit properly instead of balancing at the edge of the bed like a visitor.”
Yamaguchi moved farther back.
“You could also sit here. Your desk chair looks uncomfortable.”
“It’s a good chair.”
“That does not mean it is comfortable, at least not more than the bed.”
“I sit in it every day.”
“That doesn’t defeat my argument and you also complain about your back after studying.
“I do not complain.”
“You do silently, staring at the wall and rotating your shoulders until they crack.”
“That is not complaining.”
“It is your way of doing it.”
Tsukishima sighed but stood anyway, he crossed the room and sat beside Yamaguchi, leaving a careful distance between them. Yamaguchi looked at the empty space.
“You made it sound as though I was sitting too formally, and now you are sitting as far away as possible.”
“I am giving you room.”
“You are acting as though I take up more than half the bed.”
“In those clothes, you might.”
Yamaguchi laughed, then he leaned back against the wall, pulling his knees up slightly, Tsukishima remained beside him. For several minutes, they listened to the rain, it should have felt awkward, but silence between them rarely did. They had spent years sharing spaces without needing to fill them, they had studied together, walked together, waited outside gyms and classrooms together. They had sat beside each other on buses, shoulders occasionally touching whenever the vehicle turned. Yamaguchi had always known that being near Tsukishima calmed him, lately however, calm had become tangled with something more restless. Something that made him notice the narrow distance between their hands, that made him wonder what would happen if he simply moved closer.
Tsukishima reached for the remote on the bedside table.
“We can watch something until the rain stops.”
Yamaguchi looked at him in surprise. “You are offering to choose entertainment voluntarily?”
“You complain when I leave you alone.”
“I do not complain. I try to include you.”
“You become impossible to ignore.”
“That sounds like a compliment.”
“It was not intended as one.”
Tsukishima turned on the television and they spent several minutes arguing over what to watch. Every time Yamaguchi suggested a film Tsukishima rejected it because the description sounded sentimental. When Tsukishima suggested a documentary Yamaguchi rejected it because the narrator’s voice made him sleepy. Eventually they settled on an old monster film neither of them particularly wanted to see. It was badly dubbed, dramatically lit, and unintentionally funny. Halfway through, Yamaguchi was laughing so hard that he had to cover his mouth with the sleeve of Tsukishima’s sweatshirt.
“The monster has been standing behind that building for almost a full minute,” he said. “How has nobody noticed it?”
“The people in this film have already demonstrated very poor observational skills.”
“It is taller than the entire street.”
“You fail to notice things directly in front of you all the time.”
Yamaguchi turned toward him.
“What do I fail to notice?”
Tsukishima’s expression changed, only slightly, but Yamaguchi saw it. His eyes moved toward the television again.
“Your surroundings.”
“That is not specific.”
“You walk into doors when you are distracted.”
“That’s not fair, that only happened once.”
“It happened twice.”
“The second time was because you said something irritating.”
“That does not make the door disappear.”
Yamaguchi smiled but continued watching him, there had been something behind Tsukishima’s first answer, something unfinished.
“What else do I fail to notice?”
Tsukishima’s fingers tightened slightly around the remote.
“You are unusually interested in being criticized.”
“I am interested because you sounded as though you had a particular example.”
“I do not.”
“You paused.”
“I am capable of pausing without concealing a dramatic secret.”
Yamaguchi studied his profile, the line of his nose, the pale hair falling near his glasses, the faint tension at the corner of his mouth.
“Kei.”
Tsukishima went still, Yamaguchi rarely used his first name. He had done it more often as a child, before years of habit and embarrassment had made it feel too personal. The sound of it now changed the air between them and Tsukishima turned his head slowly.
“What?”
The question was longer than his usual responses, but his voice had lowered. Yamaguchi felt suddenly nervous, he looked down at his covered hands.
“I sometimes wonder whether you are trying to tell me things without saying them directly.”
Tsukishima did not answer immediately, the film continued in the background, filled with dramatic music and distant screaming. Yamaguchi swallowed before continuing.
“I do not mean that as an accusation. I only think there are moments when you do something kind, then immediately explain it in the least kind way possible, almost as though you are worried I might understand what you actually meant."
“That is an extremely complicated interpretation of lending someone an umbrella.”
“This is not only about the umbrella.”
Tsukishima looked toward him and Yamaguchi forced himself to keep on talking.
“You wait for me after practice even when you are ready before I am. You remember when I have tests, even if I only mention them once. You bring an extra drink when you know I forgot mine. You always walk on the side closest to the road, and you move things down from high shelves before I have to ask.”
“That last one is practical. Watching you climb furniture would be exhausting and irresponsible.”
“You are doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Taking something gentle and covering it with sarcasm before I can thank you properly.”
Tsukishima’s jaw shifted. Yamaguchi’s heart was beating too fast now, but there was relief in finally saying it.
“I notice more than you think I do,” he continued. “I may not always understand what it means, but I notice.”
The teasing expression had disappeared from Tsukishima’s face, he looked almost uncomfortable, exposed.
“You are making ordinary things sound more important than they are.”
“Perhaps they are important to me.”
Tsukishima looked away, Yamaguchi’s courage wavered, he stared at the television, though he had no idea what was happening anymore.
“I am sorry. I probably made that strange.”
“You did.”
Yamaguchi’s stomach dropped.
Then Tsukishima continued, quieter.
“But not for the reason you think.”
Yamaguchi turned back toward him. Tsukishima had removed his glasses and was cleaning them with the edge of his shirt, though they had not looked dirty.
“You notice those things,” he said, “but somehow you never seem to consider why I only do them for you.”
Yamaguchi stopped breathing, Tsukishima kept looking at his glasses, the room suddenly felt too small.
“What do you mean?” Yamaguchi asked, though his voice barely sounded like his own.
Tsukishima put his glasses back on and swallowed before continuing.
“I mean that I do not wait outside the gym for everyone. I do not remember everyone’s tests, and I certainly do not carry extra drinks because the entire team is incapable of planning ahead.”
Yamaguchi stared at him.
“You have carried drinks for Kuroo-san.”
“The distinction is that he paid me back.”
Despite the tension, Yamaguchi felt a breathless laugh escape him, Tsukishima’s eyes softened slightly. Yamaguchi looked down at the narrow space between them.
“Are you saying that I am important to you?”
“You have been important to me for years. I assumed that was obvious.”
“It is obvious that we are close.”
“That is not what I meant.”
Yamaguchi’s pulse jumped, he forced himself to meet Tsukishima’s gaze.
“What are you saying?”
Tsukishima leaned back against the wall, his posture looked casual, but his hands were tense where they rested beside him.
“I am saying that you are not very good at recognizing when someone cares about you in a way that is no longer entirely friendly”, his voice became quieter towards the end of the sentence, something unusual for Tsukishima who normally drips with self-confidence. The words settled between them, for several seconds, Yamaguchi could only stare. Tsukishima’s ears were red now, not faintly pink, bright red. Yamaguchi had known him long enough to understand how much embarrassment that represented, that made a strange, disbelieving warmth fill his entire chest.
“You mean you…”
He stopped himself, the sentence felt too fragile to finish carelessly. Tsukishima looked at him with visible impatience, though the colour in his face had spread toward his cheekbones.
“I am trying not to misunderstand you,” Yamaguchi laughed nervously.
“You have managed to misunderstand me for several months. A few more seconds probably will not make a difference.”
“Several months?”
Tsukishima closed his eyes briefly.
“That is the detail you chose to focus on?”
“I am trying to understand how long you have felt this way.
“You are avoiding the more important part."
“The important part is terrifying.”
Tsukishima looked at him again, there was no mockery in his expression now, only nervousness hidden beneath familiar restraint. Yamaguchi curled his hands inside the sleeves of the oversized sweatshirt.
“I have felt it too,” he whispered.
Tsukishima became completely still and Yamaguchi continued before he lost courage.
“I did not know whether it was something I was allowed to feel, because we have been together for so long that I was afraid changing anything might ruin what we already had. I kept telling myself that I was only noticing you differently because we were getting older, but that explanation stopped working when I realized I was thinking about you even when we had spent the entire day together.”
Tsukishima’s gaze did not leave his face and Yamaguchi’s voice softened.
“I started wanting things that did not feel entirely friendly either.”
“What kind of things?”
The question came out quieter again, presenting a side Tsukishima rarely showed, even in front of Yamaguchi.
“You cannot ask that so directly after spending months hiding behind sarcasm.
“I have already admitted more than I intended to admit today. You can make a small contribution.”
“That is not how confessions are supposed to work.”
“I was not aware there were official rules.”
“There probably are not, but you are still being unfair.”
Tsukishima shifted slightly closer, the movement was small, but the gap between them narrowed.
“What kind of things?” he asked again.
Yamaguchi looked at his hands.
“I wanted to hold your hand without pretending it happened by accident.”
Tsukishima’s expression softened and Yamaguchi continued, speaking more quietly now.
“I wanted to sit closer when we watched films. I wanted to lean against you on the train, even when I was not tired. I wanted you to look at me the way you sometimes do when you think I am not paying attention.”
Tsukishima swallowed, Yamaguchi looked up at him.
“And I wanted to know what it would feel like if you kissed me.”
The room became silent except for the rain, Tsukishima stared at him as though the words had physically struck him. Yamaguchi’s courage immediately collapsed, he drew his knees closer to his chest.
“I probably should not have said that last part so plainly.”
“You cannot say something like that and then retreat into my sweatshirt.”
“I am not retreating.”
“You are almost entirely hidden.”
Yamaguchi glanced down and realized the collar had risen near his mouth, he lowered it, embarrassed. Tsukishima’s eyes followed the movement, then he reached over and caught the end of one long sleeve, closing his fingers carefully around Yamaguchi’s covered hand.
“Come closer.”
Yamaguchi’s heart jumped, looking at him for a long moment, then he shifted across the bed until their knees touched. Tsukishima did not let go of his hand, through the fabric, the contact felt muted, almost unbearably gentle. Yamaguchi stared down at their joined hands.
“This feels slightly unfair,” he murmured.
Tsukishima raised an eyebrow. “You have described several months of romantic frustration, and now holding your hand is unfair?”
“I cannot actually feel your hand properly through the sleeve.”
Tsukishima looked down, slowly, he pushed the sleeve back, his fingertips brushed Yamaguchi’s wrist. The contact sent a shiver up Yamaguchi’s arm, which did not go unnoticed by Tsukishima, who flicked his gaze towards Yamaguchi’s face.
“You are nervous.”
“Of course I am, but you are not so innocent either.”
“I am not the one shaking.”
“You are the one whose ears have been red for several minutes.”
Tsukishima’s mouth tightened, upon which Yamaguchi smiled softly.
“I like it."
“That is unfortunate.”
“I think it is sweet.”
“You are making this worse.”
“I am trying to make it easier.”
“You are doing a terrible job.”
Despite the words, Tsukishima turned Yamaguchi’s hand over and threaded their fingers together, the size difference was immediately obvious. Tsukishima’s fingers were longer, his palm broader, and his grip enclosed Yamaguchi’s hand completely. He looked down at them, unable to stop smiling.
“You have very large hands.”
“You have very small hands.”
“They are ordinary.”
“They disappear when I hold them.”
Yamaguchi’s smile widened.
“That does not sound like a complaint.”
Tsukishima looked at their hands instead of answering, his thumb moved once across Yamaguchi’s knuckles. The gesture was hesitant enough to feel more intimate than confidence would have and Yamaguchi shifted closer until their shoulders touched. Tsukishima remained still for a moment, then he relaxed, the side of his arm pressed warmly against Yamaguchi’s. Neither of them spoke, the monster film ended without either noticing, credits rolled silently across the screen. Yamaguchi let his head tilt until it rested against Tsukishima’s shoulder, the difference in height made the position slightly awkward. Even sitting, Tsukishima was tall enough that Yamaguchi had to angle himself carefully.
Tsukishima glanced down.
“You look uncomfortable.”
“I am comfortable.”
“Your neck is bent.”
“That is because your shoulder is too high.”
“You chose to lean on it.”
“I did not expect your proportions to remain inconvenient while sitting.”
Tsukishima shifted downward against the wall, the movement lowered his shoulder enough for Yamaguchi to settle more naturally. Yamaguchi smiled against the fabric of his shirt.
“You adjusted for me.”
“I was tired of watching you hold your neck at a strange angle.”
“You could simply admit that you wanted me to stay here.”
“You are already here.”
“That is not an admission.”
Tsukishima was quiet. then his head tilted carefully until it rested against Yamaguchi’s hair. The gesture stole the rest of Yamaguchi’s teasing, he sat completely still and Tsukishima’s hand remained intertwined with his. After a moment, Yamaguchi felt the faint pressure of Tsukishima’s cheek against the top of his head, his chest tightened with tenderness.
“You have probably noticed,” Yamaguchi said softly, “that I have become unusually quiet.”
“I assumed you were finally overwhelmed by your own success.”
“I am trying not to move because I do not want you to stop."
Tsukishima’s thumb brushed over his knuckles again.
“I was not planning to stop.”
Yamaguchi closed his eyes, for a while, they stayed that way. The rain gradually softened outside, but neither mentioned leaving. Eventually Yamaguchi lifted his head and Tsukishima looked down at him. They were closer than Yamaguchi had realized, without the distance between their shoulders, without the careful avoidance that had defined the last several months, Tsukishima’s face seemed suddenly near. Yamaguchi could see the faint reflection of the television in his glasses, he could see the nervous tension around his eyes, the moment Tsukishima’s gaze lowered toward his mouth. Yamaguchi’s breath caught and Tsukishima looked back into his eyes.
“You said you wanted to know what it would feel like.”
Yamaguchi’s heartbeat became almost painful.
“I did say that.”
Tsukishima hesitated, it was such an unfamiliar sight that Yamaguchi felt another rush of affection. He lifted his free hand and carefully touched the sleeve near Tsukishima’s wrist.
“You do not have to look so worried.”
“I’m not.”
“You are thinking too much.”
“That criticism sounds familiar.”
“I learned it from someone difficult.”
Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Yamaguchi smiled, then, more gently, he added, “You can kiss me.”
Tsukishima’s expression changed, the sarcasm disappeared, his fingers tightened around Yamaguchi’s hand. Then he lifted his other hand and touched Yamaguchi’s face, his palm settled carefully along his cheek, and his thumb rested near the corner of Yamaguchi’s mouth. The difference in size made Yamaguchi feel strangely delicate. Tsukishima looked at him for another second, as though waiting for any sign of uncertainty, so Yamaguchi leaned into his hand and that was enough. Tsukishima bent down and kissed him.
The first touch of his lips was soft, so soft that Yamaguchi almost wondered whether he had imagined it. Tsukishima pulled back only a fraction, still close enough that their breaths mingled but Yamaguchi’s eyes remained closed.
“That was barely a kiss,” he whispered.
Tsukishima’s thumb moved along his cheek.
“You seemed nervous.”
“I was nervous before you kissed me. Now I am mostly disappointed that you stopped.”
Tsukishima stared at him and then a faint, disbelieving smile appeared.
“You become bold at very inconvenient moments.”
“I have spent years listening to you make comments without consequences. I think I deserve one brave moment.”
“You are asking for consequences now.”
Yamaguchi’s face warmed.
“I did not mean it like that.”
“I know.”
This time, when Tsukishima kissed him, he stayed. The kiss was still gentle, but longer. Yamaguchi’s fingers curled into the fabric near Tsukishima’s wrist, who tilted his head, adjusting carefully for the angle between them. Their lips moved slowly, uncertain at first, then more naturally when Yamaguchi leaned closer. It was warm and quiet and far less frightening than Yamaguchi had imagined. When they parted, Tsukishima remained close and this time Yamaguchi opened his eyes. Tsuki was looking at him with an expression Yamaguchi had never seen directed at anyone else, soft, startled, almost helpless, this made Yamaguchi smile.
“You are staring again."
Tsukishima’s gaze narrowed, one hand remained against Yamaguchi’s face, the other flicked him slightly against his forehead making the small boy yelp.
“You are wearing my clothes, sitting in my bed, and criticizing the way I look at you after asking me to kiss you.”
“When you describe it like that, it sounds as though I planned all of this,” he answered while rubbing his forehead.
“You could have, maybe you were so on edge that you spend several minutes discussing the weather before accepting my umbrella.”
“Me grumbling about the weather report was not part of a romantic strategy.”
“It would have been a very inefficient one.”
Yamaguchi laughed, the sound brought a softer curve to Tsukishima’s mouth.
“I think I would like another one.”
“Another romantic strategy?”
“Another kiss.”
Tsukishima’s ears colored again making the green haired boy smile turn fond.
“You become very flustered when I say things directly.”
“You spent years barely managing to speak when someone looked at you. This sudden confidence is suspicious.”
“Trust me Tsuki beneath the surface I am still nervous.”
“You do not sound nervous.”
“That is because you are holding my hand.”
Tsukishima looked down at their joined fingers and Yamaguchi’s voice softened.
“It makes me feel safer and gives me a confidence boost.”
Something warm passed through Tsukishima’s expression, he leaned down and kissed Yamaguchi’s forehead, right where he flicked him just moments ago. The gesture was so tender and unexpected that Yamaguchi forgot to breathe. When Tsukishima pulled back Yamaguchi stared at him.
“That was not where I expected you to kiss me.”
“You asked for another kiss. You did not specify where.”
“That feels like deliberate misinterpretation.”
“It still counts.”
“It counts, but it does not resolve the original request.”
“You are demanding.”
“I’m discovering that I can be.”
The taller boy looked at him for a moment, then he kissed the corner of Yamaguchi’s mouth, who let a quiet sound of protest escape him. Tsukishima’s eyes flickered with amusement.
“That was closer.”
“Tsukii! Now you are being difficult on purpose.”
“You have known that about me since we were children.”
Yamaguchi turned toward him more fully, their knees pressed together, the loose sweatshirt shifted around his shoulders, and Tsukishima’s gaze briefly dropped to the oversized collar again, which did not go unnoticed by Yamaguchi.
“You like seeing me in your clothes.”
Tsukishima immediately looked back at his face.
“You stared when I walked into the room,” he continued before the blond, “And you have repeatedly glanced at the sleeves.”
“They are covering your hands, you almost disappear in it."
“Well how would I not, even though you are not that much taller than me, your clothes are like at least two sizes bigger than mine, maybe even three,” he hid his face inside the collar but a smile was still visible as he whispered “I like it, yours is much softer than mine.”
Tsukishima’s mouth tightened, but he could not hide the colour rising along his neck. The bob of green hair looked up again.
“Do you think I look cute?” Even though his voice was steady and held a bit of confidence, inside Tadashi’s stomach tightened with nervousness.
“That word was not part of my assessment.”
“That doesn’t sound like denial, what fits your assessment?”
Tsukishima released Yamaguchi’s hand only to place both hands around his waist, the sudden movement made Yamaguchi inhale sharply. Tsukishima lifted him with almost no effort. One moment Yamaguchi was sitting beside him, the next, he had been moved across the bed and placed directly in front of him on his lap, knees settling on either side of one of Tsukishima’s legs.
“Kei!” he exclaimed, grabbing the blonds shoulders for balance.
“You were becoming unbearable.”
“So you picked me up?”
“You are easier to relocate than to argue with.”
“You cannot simply move me because I was teasing you.”
“As you can see, I very well can.”
Tsukishima’s hands remained at his waist. Through the sweatshirt, Yamaguchi could feel the warmth and shape of his fingers. The teasing answer disappeared from his thoughts and he became aware of how close they were. The height difference that usually forced Yamaguchi to look far upward had nearly disappeared in this position, Tsukishima had to tilt his head only slightly now.
“You were right,” Tsuki said as his gaze travelled across the others face.
Yamaguchi swallowed, “About what?”
“You do look cute.”
The directness of it was devastating, heat rushed across Yamaguchi’s face so quickly that Tsukishima’s expression shifted into quiet satisfaction.
“That was unfair,” Yamaguchi whispered.
“You seemed disappointed by my lack of honesty."
“I was not prepared for you to suddenly become honest while holding me like this.”
“You are the one who requested consequences.”
“I already explained that I did not mean it that way.”
Tsukishima’s hands tightened slightly at his waist and Yamaguchi’s breath caught again.
“You can move away,” Tsukishima said, a small smirk appearing on the edge of his lips.
“I do not want to move away,” he shook his head.
Tsukishima watched him carefully, Yamaguchi slid one hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck.
“I want you to kiss me properly.”
Tsukishima’s eyes darkened.
“You are going to regret discovering confidence."
“I don’t think I will.”
“You might reconsider in a moment.”
Yamaguchi barely had time to inhale before Tsukishima kissed him again. This kiss was different, it began with the same careful warmth, but the restraint did not last. Tsukishima’s hand slid from Yamaguchi’s waist to the middle of his back, drawing him closer until there was no space left between them. The smaller boys fingers tightened against the others neck, slowly deepening the kiss, not rushed but intense in a way that made every earlier touch feel like preparation. Tsukishima kissed him with months of hidden feeling pressed into every movement. All the waiting after practice, the remembered details, the quiet gestures Yamaguchi had noticed but never fully understood, all of it.
Yamaguchi leaned into him, heart racing, trusting the steady hold around his body. The difference in their size made the embrace feel overwhelming in the gentlest way. Tsukishima’s arm supported nearly all of him, one large hand spread across his back the other moved to his cheek, tilting his face carefully as their mouths parted and met again. Yamaguchi had imagined kissing Tsukishima many times, he had imagined awkwardness, hesitation, perhaps a sarcastic comment in the middle. Wat he had not imagined was that Tsukishima would kiss him as though holding back had become impossible.
Yamaguchi’s hand moved into his hair, eliciting a quiet sound against his mouth from the blond boy. The sound sent warmth through Yamaguchi’s entire body and he kissed him back more firmly, his thoughts leaving him and letting his body take control. Tsukishima responded immediately, pulling him closer. The kiss grew breathless and consuming, his thumb stroked along Yamaguchi’s cheek, his hand at the others back held him securely. When they finally broke apart, neither moved far. Yamaguchi rested his forehead against Tsukishima’s. They were both breathing unevenly. Tsukishima’s glasses had shifted slightly and Yamaguchi reached up and straightened them with trembling fingers.
“That was definitely a proper kiss.”
Tsukishima let out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh.
“You sound surprised.”
“I did not expect you to become so intense after spending the entire afternoon pretending to be unaffected. Good thing that I know your tell”
“What are you talking about, I don’t have a tell.”
“Yes you do, your ears gave you away. I like that they tell me what you are feeling when your face refuses to cooperate. I like them.”
This made the blond haired boy splutter, “You like my ears?”
A smile appeared on the lips of the boy still sitting on his lap, then he moved forward and Tsuki sucked in a breath when he felt soft lips brushing the tip of his left ear. Yamaguchi pulled back, admiring the way Tsukishima’s ears turned a deep shade of red. Even though Tadashi has a huge impact on him, he isn’t one to back down from a challenge. He studied him, then he leaned forward and kissed Yamaguchi’s cheek.
Yamaguchi smiled, “I like getting a reaction out of you.”
But Tsukishima wasn’t done yet, his lips continued leaving small kisses on Yamaguchi’s cheek, wandering till he reached the edge of his lips, where he let his own lips linger a few seconds longer. Just as Yamaguchi turned his head to meet Tsuki’s lips, the blond pulled away, his trademark smirk already appearing on his face.
“You want a reaction? Look who’s following.”
“I-I wasn’t following, my neck was just becoming stiff and I had to move it.”
“Looks like you used up all of your confidence for today.”
“N-No, it’s just-“ he sighed, “No you are right, I think you're the only reason I ever find any confidence in the first place.”
Tsukishima’s expression softened, he brushed his thumb over the freckles near Yamaguchi’s cheekbone.
“Are we really doing this?” he asked.
Tsukishima’s brows drew together slightly, “You will need to be more specific."
“This. Us. I know we confessed, and I know you kissed me several times, but part of me is still waiting to wake up and discover that I imagined the entire afternoon.”
Tsukishima’s hand settled at the back of his neck.
“You did not imagine it.”
“I know that logically.”
“Then stop looking as though you expect me to change my mind.”
Yamaguchi lowered his gaze.
“It is difficult not to worry.”
Tsukishima was silent for a moment, then he lifted Yamaguchi’s chin gently until their eyes met.
“I have cared about you for most of my life. The nature of that feeling changed gradually, which was inconvenient and irritating, but it did not make it temporary.”
Yamaguchi’s eyes stung unexpectedly but Tsukishima noticed immediately and his expression became alarmed.
“You are not supposed to cry.”
“That is not how emotions work.”
“I did not say anything upsetting.”
“You said something very sweet.”
“That is not usually considered a reason to cry.”
“It is when you rarely say such things plainly.”
Tsukishima sighed and pulled him forward, Yamaguchi went willingly, folding into his chest. The tall boys long arms wrapped firmly around him, the hug enclosed him completely. Yamaguchi rested his face against Tsukishima’s shoulder, smiling through the embarrassing sting in his eyes.
“You fit there annoyingly well,” Tsukishima murmured.
Yamaguchi’s arms tightened around him.
“That sounded almost romantic.”
“It was an observation.”
“It was a romantic observation.”
“You are going to analyze everything I say now.”
“I have been doing that for years.”
“That explains several things.”
Yamaguchi shifted closer and Tsukishima’s chin rested lightly on top of his head. The difference in height, which had often been used for teasing, felt comforting now. Yamaguchi could disappear against him without feeling small in the ways that used to hurt and Tsukishima held him as though there was nothing fragile or embarrassing about wanting closeness. After a while, Yamaguchi spoke against his chest.
“The rain has almost stopped.”
“I noticed.”
“I should probably go home.”
“You could.”
Neither of them moved and Yamaguchi smiled.
“You do not sound very convincing.”
“I am acknowledging reality.”
“You are holding me more tightly.”
“That is unrelated.”
“It feels closely related.”
Tsukishima remained silent and Yamaguchi tipped his head back, from this angle, he could only see the underside of his chin until Tsuki looked down.
“You could stay for dinner,” he said.
Yamaguchi’s smile widened.
“Are you inviting me because it is practical, or because you want me to stay?”
Tsukishima looked deeply unimpressed.
“I have already confessed to you. I am not going to explain every invitation for the rest of our lives.”
The words for the rest of our lives hung between them and Tsukishima seemed to realize what he had said at the same moment Yamaguchi did. His face went still, Yamaguchi stared at him then warmth spread across his expression.
“For the rest of our lives?”
“That was a figure of speech.”
“It sounded very specific.”
“It was not.”
“You are planning very far ahead.”
“I am planning dinner.”
Yamaguchi tried to hide his smile against Tsukishima’s shoulder, who placed a hand over the back of his head.
“You are not allowed to repeat that sentence to anyone.”
“I was not planning to tell anyone.”
“Especially not Hinata.”
“I understand.”
“And definitely not Kuroo.”
“I understand that as well.”
Tsukishima narrowed his eyes.
“You sound too pleased.”
“I am pleased.”
“That is a problem.”
Yamaguchi lifted his head again.
“I will stay for dinner.”
Tsukishima nodded once, then seemed to remember Yamaguchi’s complaint about indirect answers.
“I would like you to stay.”
The careful effort behind the sentence made Yamaguchi’s chest ache, he leaned forward and kissed Tsukishima softly. This time, Tsukishima did not seem surprised, his hand moved to Yamaguchi’s back, keeping him close. The kiss remained gentle, warm and lingering. When Yamaguchi pulled away, Tsukishima followed just enough to steal another small kiss and the small boy smiled against his mouth.
“That one felt greedy.”
“I am making up for several months of unnecessary patience.”
“You could have said something sooner.”
“So could you.”
“I was frightened.”
“You were not the only one.”
Yamaguchi blinked and Tsukishima’s gaze moved away. The admission seemed to cost him more than the confession had.
“You were?”
“Of course I was, just because I don’t show my emotions like others do, doesn’t mean that I don’t have them. I did not want to lose what we already had.”
The honesty in his voice made Yamaguchi soften completely.
“You would not have lost me.”
“That was not guaranteed, I couldn’t risk it.”
Yamaguchi smiled and reached for the others cheek, “It is now.
Tsukishima leaned into the warmth of the palm of his hand and looked back at him
“You are not getting rid of me after kissing me like that."
“That sounds vaguely threatening.”
“It is a promise.”
Tsukishima’s expression softened and he pressed one final kiss to Yamaguchi’s forehead, then he carefully set him back beside him on the bed and stood up. The green haired boy immediately noticed the loss of warmth.
“We should go downstairs before my mother comes home and finds us sitting here in silence.”
“We were not sitting in silence.”
“That would be the version I prefer to explain.”
Yamaguchi looked down at himself.
“I am still wearing your clothes.”
Tsukishima’s gaze lingered again.
“I am aware.”
“You are staring.”
“I am reconsidering whether I need the sweatshirt back.”
Yamaguchi’s heart skipped.
“You want me to keep it?”
“I did not say that.”
“You strongly implied it.”
“I said I was reconsidering.”
Yamaguchi stood and walked toward him. The trousers nearly slipped at the waist, forcing him to catch them quickly.
“I warned you.”
Yamaguchi held the waistband with one hand.
“You could be more sympathetic.
“You could wear clothes that fit.”
“The only clothes that fit are mine which are still wet.” Yamaguchi stepped closer until the oversized sweatshirt brushed against Tsukishima’s shirt, “And don’t act like you don’t like me in yours.”
Tsukishima looked down at him and Yamaguchi had to tilt his head far back again. The familiar height difference returned in full, but now it made him smile. Tsukishima reached down and rolled the cuff of one sleeve until Yamaguchi’s hand appeared, then he did the same to the other. His fingers moved with quiet concentration, all the while the smaller boy watched him.
“You are very gentle when you forget to be sarcastic.”
“I have not forgotten anything.”
“You are fixing my sleeves.”
“I am preventing you from falling down the stairs.”
“That is gentle.”
“That is practical.”
Yamaguchi rose onto his toes, even then he barely reached Tsukishima’s chin, to which the blond looked amused.
“You are not going to reach.”
“I am aware of that.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I am hoping you will cooperate.”
Tsukishima bent down, Yamaguchi smiled and kissed him. It was brief and soft. When he settled back onto his heels, Tsukishima remained bent close to him.
“You could have asked.”
“I wanted to see whether you would understand without being told.”
“That sounds familiar.”
Yamaguchi’s smile grew.
“Perhaps I am learning your language.”
Tsukishima touched their foreheads together.
“That seems dangerous.”
“For you?”
“For everyone.”
Yamaguchi laughed, and Tsukishima kissed him again before he could finish. Outside, the rain faded into a quiet drizzle. Inside, they stood close together in the middle of Tsukishima’s room, still uncertain about what would change and newly certain that neither of them wanted to step away. For the first time, Yamaguchi did not have to wonder what Tsukishima’s small gestures meant. For the first time, Tsukishima allowed him to see the tenderness without covering every part of it. And when they finally went downstairs, their hands remained joined between them, Tsukishima’s fingers wrapped securely around Yamaguchi’s smaller ones. Neither of them mentioned letting go.