#WRITE YOU DOUCHENUGGET | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sapphyrelily · 7 years ago

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Five - You Are In Love

It only took me 6 months to write a new chapter orz

“Do you want to go see that movie tomorrow?”

“The action one?”

“You don’t even know its name.”

He laughs at the accusatory tone in his friend’s voice. “I’m not very caught up on what’s showing.”

“Fine. So, wanna go?”

“Sure.” Shirabu rolls over onto his stomach, fingering the edge of his blanket. “Let me know the time, I’ll be there.”

“I’ll check the timing and let you know.”

“Sure. See you then.”

The line clicks off after Iwaizumi says his goodbyes, and even after Shirabu sets his phone down, he can’t stop grinning.

He grabs his pillow to hide his smile in it, but it doesn’t work very well, and he ends up grabbing his phone again. He crosses and uncrosses his ankles as he composes a new text, making too many errors in his hurry.

[Kenjirou]: GUESS WHOS GOING TO A MOVIE WITH IWA-SAN TMR

His phone buzzes with a reply almost immediately, and he grins.

[Taichi]: oh, i coulfnt possibly guess

The sarcastic reply doesn’t deter him.

[Kenjirou]: Yeah, yeah, you’re salty I get it

[Taichi]: i m so much closer 2 getting a bf than u r

[Kenjirou]: lies

[Taichi]: only truths

[Kenjirou]: Forgive me if I don’t trust you

[Taichi]: u trusted me? when?

[Kenjirou]: asshat

[Taichi]: douchenugget

[Kenjirou]: I hate you and your tall ass

[Taichi]: my ass isnt tall, the rest of me is

[Kenjirou]: Spectacular. Like I needed to know that

[Taichi]: o I kno im spectacular.

[Kenjirou]: goodbye

[Taichi]: guees who else thinks im spectacular

[Kenjirou]: Not interested in ur love life

[Taichi]: but u want deets on my sex life n im happy 2 oblige

[Kenjirou]: NO THANKS

Shirabu is about to throw his phone across the room when it starts vibrating, and he curses the name on his screen.

“Taichi, no.”

“Taichi, yes.” His best friend snickers, and Shirabu collapses onto his pillow, groaning.

“So as I was saying, I am this much closer to getting a boyfriend than you are.”

“No one said I’m not making progress.” Shirabu mumbles to his pillow.

“That pretty much confirms that you’re not.”

“Look here, I’m trying–”

“Try harder.”

“Oi, not all of us are like you.”

“Hmm, I suppose I could share some of my charm with you.”

“Ew. Go back to the bin you came from.”

“Rude.”

“Only the best for you,” he croons, and laughs at the dry retching from the other end of the line.

The door creaks open, and he tosses a careless Welcome back over his shoulder, half-listening to Kawanishi’s semi-serious cursing.

“Is that Taichi?” An amused voice asks, and Shirabu doesn’t bother to glance up before putting his friend on speaker.

“–you are absolutely hopeless and I hope you never get together with someone, for the sake of their sanity–”

Semi bursts into laughter, and the voice on the other end comes to an abrupt halt.

“Kenjirou, I’m going to kill you. Stop putting me on speaker.”

“Come to Tokyo and fight me, I dare you.”

“I’ll book a ticket right now, see if I don’t–”

“Mmhmm. I’ll let you know if the part of me that cares comes back from war.”

“You suck.”

“No more than you do.”

“On the contrary, I probably get a lot more sucking action than you do–”

Shirabu chokes and promptly turns the speaker off while Semi howls with laughter.

-----

Semi has entered and left the room three different times, two hours have passed, and Shirabu is still on the phone.

He never thought Kawanishi had it in him to talk for that long.

He’s settling down with a book when he hears “–yeah, of course I’ll tell you all about it. And send you spoilers.”

A pause, and a burst of laughter, possibly at Kawanishi's indignation. “You do it to me all the time, asshole. It’s about time I got payback.

“Mmhmm. Right. I do no such thing, stop spreading lies about me.”

Semi begins to think that he should just listen in instead of reading. Shirabu and Kawanishi’s conversations are more amusing than a soap opera, and infinitely more interesting than his book.

“Whatever. I’m going to shower, my phone’s burning my ear off. Mm. Right. Bye.”

Shirabu tosses the phone aside and collapses on his pillow, and Semi tries very hard to immerse himself in his book.

(He gets called out anyway.)

“How long were you actually listening to us talk?”

Semi glances up, but Shirabu isn’t looking at him. It looks like he’s trying to suffocate himself with the pillow, and Semi wonders what brought that on. “Is that really a question? I walked in and out thrice and you were on the phone for two hours.”

“Hnn.” His roommate rolls over, removing himself from the possibility of suffocation, and regards him with his head on his hand. “So how much did you hear?”

“Do I look like I would really remember everything that you two were talking about–”

“Badly phrased question.” Shirabu cuts him off with a wave of his free hand. “How nosy do you want to be, before I forget whatever Taichi said?”

“Why, thank you for thinking of me and including me in the sharing of your deep, dark secrets.”

“Bye.” Shirabu rolls off the bed and heads for his dresser, while Semi snickers behind him.

“Okay, okay, I was kidding. I was curious about one thing.”

Shirabu looks up from a half-closed drawer, raising an eyebrow at him to continue.

“You’re watching a movie sometime?”

“Oh, yeah.” A hint of a smile tilts Shirabu’s lips up, right before he schools his face back into neutrality. “Tomorrow. Not sure what time yet.”

“Oh, nice. Have fun.” He smiles.

“Why do you want to know?”

“You said I could be nosy.”

“You’re never nosy without reason,” Shirabu counters, walking back to perch on the edge of his bed, his toiletries balanced on his knees. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Semi protests. “Can I not be curious about what 'spoilers' might mean without a reason?”

“No.”

“Suck it up then. There’s no other reason.”

“You’re such a pain.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Ugh.” Shirabu heads towards the room door. “Bye.”

“I’ll still be here when you get back, you know.”

“Ew. Don’t remind me.”

Semi laughs a little as the door clicks shut behind him, putting their conversation out of mind as he finally starts reading.

-----

Semi's phone buzzes, and he grins at the message.

It’s been a while since he heard from this friend.

He opens up the text, composing a reply, ignoring the creak as the door opens.

“What are you smiling at?”

“A friend is in Tokyo.” He continues replying to the person, snickering at their responses.

“Ooh, exciting. I didn’t know you had friends.”

Semi throws a spare pillow in his direction, uncaring if it hits its target or not.

Shirabu catches the pillow with a huff, hugging it to himself as he rubs his towel over his hair with his other hand. “Am I allowed to know who this mysterious friend is?”

“Since you were so rude, no.” Semi puts his phone down and picks his book back up, smirking at him. “Besides, you have mysterious friends too.”

“Touché.” Shirabu doesn’t comment further. He’s not ready to share the identity of his 'mysterious friend’ just yet.

He can hear the little vibrations as Semi gets new messages, but opts to tune him out as he turns their hair dryer on. It feels good to dry his hair even though they are in the heat of summer, and he shakes his dried hair out to rid it of the excess heat.

“I’m never going to get over how fluffy your hair is,” he hears. Shirabu rolls his eyes, though he knows his roommate can’t see it.

“Semi-san, you can’t really be talking to me about fluffy hair.”

“I believe I just did.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Does the reflection on my phone screen count?”

Semi laughs as Shirabu throws his pillow back at him with another roll of his eyes. “Okay, okay, geez. I have a serious question now.”

“Oooh, scary.”

“Shut up, Semi-san.”

“Come over here and make me.”

“Oh, gladly.”

Shirabu stalks the two strides across their room and grabs the pillow, but Semi keeps a hold on it, already guessing what he’s about to do.

They grapple back and forth for some time before Semi’s grip suddenly slackens, and Shirabu tumbles atop him. But then the pillow is up in his face, smothering him instead, and a push on his shoulder unbalances him enough that he gets rolled over, a muffled laugh above him.

“Yield,” he hears Semi say, but with his mouth full of pillow, Shirabu can only shove against it in hope of a gulp of air.

The grip on the pillow slackens as he knew it would, Semi pulling it back to allow him to breathe. Shirabu shoves weakly against his roommate, trying to dislodge him from where he and the pillow are crushing his chest. “Can’t breathe.”

“Yes, you can,” Semi says, but the pressure eases up anyway. It’s just enough for Shirabu to push the ash blond off and sit up, blocking the pillow when it comes for him again.

They push against each other, the pillow squashed between them, neither gaining an inch.

“Give up.”

“Never.”

“Then I guess you won’t be sleeping with this pillow tonight.”

“I have a spare, don’t worry.”

“I’ll pummel you with this.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Maybe you’re right. Too much mess to clean up.”

“I knew it. You're too lazy to clean up your normal mess, how are you going to clean up if you murder me?”

“I’ll just get someone else to murder you for me,” Shirabu says simply. “And I don’t have a ‘normal mess’, you do!”

“I don’t have that many enemies,” Semi counters, choosing to ignore the latter half of what Shirabu said.

“You’d never know.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

“Did you expect anything less?”

“No,” Semi admits. “But then again, I never take puffballs seriously.”

“Puffball–!”

“Look in a mirror, Shirabu.” Semi gives him a huge shove, his grin half-hidden by the pillow. The action pushes his roommate to the edge of the bed, and his hand shoots out to muss up Shirabu’s hair such that it sticks up even more. “Come back when you look more serious.”

“I’m always serious,” the brunet complains, smacking away the hand and trying to smooth the strands down. But he does get off Semi's bed to return to his own, flopping down and pulling the blanket over himself. “I refuse to talk to you any more.”

“Good riddance.”

Shirabu lifts his head to glare at him. “I will murder you myself, one day.”

“But that day is not today,” Semi guesses. The stony glare Shirabu gives him confirms this, and he snickers as he moves to turn off the light. “Well, whatever. I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow, I can’t stay up and argue with you.”

“Thank god,” Shirabu mutters. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Semi pulls his blanket over his shoulders, smiling into the darkness as he relives their tussle.

Living with Shirabu can be fun, sometimes.

-----

Semi doesn’t notice him until he’s nearly on top of him, chocolate eyes boring into cocoa, staring, staring, waiting for a reaction.

Semi takes a step back and exhales deeply. “Koushi, could you maybe not do that?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Suga laughs. They fall into step together, heading towards the shops. “Can’t resist, you know? There’s not many people I can sneak up on.”

“I suppose Sawamura isn’t affected by it?”

“Daichi is so placid,” Suga complains. “He never reacts to anything I do.”

“Anything?”

“Well…”

“Nope,” Semi says, putting his palm up in Suga's face. “I know that look. I don’t need any dirty details, thanks.”

Suga shrugs and grins. “Your loss. But you started it.”

“What can I say? You’re a bad influence.”

Suga gasps in mock-affront, putting a hand over his heart. “Eita, how dare you. I have the purest heart–”

“And the dirtiest mind.”

“You got me.” Suga drops his hand and the pretence, his grin wide. “Glad to know you haven’t changed.”

“And you.” Semi laughs.

“Anyway, how've you been?”

“Eh.” He shrugs. “Ups and downs. School life, you know?”

Suga nods. “As it is with all of us. But you know, other than school, what’s up?”

“…we met two minutes ago and you’re already asking for details on my love life?”

“You’re right, I should have asked immediately.”

Semi rolls his eyes. “You really haven’t changed.”

“Nor do you want me to.”

“Touché.”

“So, so? Give me the details.” Suga nudges him as he steers them towards a bookshop, and Semi laughs.

“Nothing's happened. I’m too busy for a love life. My roommate is irritating, but other than that, every other part of my life is fine.”

“Ah, right. Everyone’s younger than you in your year, aren’t they?”

“Most people, yes. Would you believe that I ended up becoming friends with a few of the volleyball players we used to meet at tournaments?”

“Wow. Some luck. Who?”

“Nekoma’s second year setter and Datekou's second year captain. I think he was a middle blocker?”

“You mean when we were third years and they were second years?” Suga asks.

“Yes, yes. I keep forgetting that they became the third years after us.”

“You’re old,” his silver-haired friend teases. “Datekou’s captain, huh? I think he was a wing spiker.” Suga hums as he thinks, tapping his chin. “Yeah. Wing spiker.”

His gaze lifts, and he gives Semi an amused smile. “Kozume-kun and Futakuchi-kun, huh? What unlikely friends.”

“I know right? Wait, you know them too?”

“Kozume-kun is from Nekoma,” Suga reminds him. “Nekoma and Karasuno are ‘fated rivals’. And Datekou is a Miyagi school, same as ours. We used to have practice matches with them.”

“Come to think of it, Kenma might have told me the same thing about your schools a long time ago.”

“Oooh, first name basis. How scandalous.” Suga wiggles his eyebrows, and Semi punches his shoulder lightly. “I’ll tell Hinata, he’ll be so sad that he wasn’t told about this development.”

The ash blond rolls his eyes. “We’re not that kind of friends.”

“Bah. You’re no fun, Eita.”

“You just like gossip.”

“Now, now, let’s not go making false accusations.” Suga shakes a finger at him, a mischievous look on his face. “Tell me more about your uni life instead!”

Semi rolls his eyes and grins. He’s missed Suga’s antics. “Fine. I’ll indulge you. Where was I?”

“I don’t know. Something about your roommate?”

“Right!” Semi snaps his fingers, the words coming back to him. “So, fate decided that I'm not tormented enough and now I’m stuck with Shirabu as a roommate.”

“Shirabu… Isn’t he that underclassman of yours?”

“The one and only.” Semi rolls his eyes. “I must have offended too many people in my past life.”

“Tough luck.” Suga pats him on the arm. “Is he as awful as he was?”

“He has his good and bad days.” Semi pauses, before a smirk creeps across his face, a thought coming to mind. “Although recently, he's been very secretive about some friends of his.”

“Oh?” Suga leans in, eyes glinting.

“And apparently, he has a partner, whom none of our mutual friends know about.”

“Oh.” His friend nods knowingly. “Very curious.”

“And apparently, they’re catching a movie some time today.”

“What? Why didn’t you say so earlier? Let’s go find out who this mysterious partner is!” Suga is suddenly ten times more energetic and tries to drag him out of the bookstore, but Semi pulls him back.

“We don’t know where they went,” he points out, to which Suga rolls his eyes.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll find out.”

“Aren’t we kind of violating his privacy by doing this?”

“You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want to violate his privacy at least a little,” Suga points out, phone already to his ear. He holds up a finger, turning his attention to the person he called. “Hi Tooru-chan. We need a favour.”

Tooru-chan?

“Did I say 'we'? My bad, you don’t need to know who my partner in crime is today.” Suga pauses, brow furrowing at something the other person said. “Can’t help me? Just what sort of important mission are you up to that you would deny me, your best friend– Wow, you’ve got nerve. Iwaizumi’s gonna kill you if he finds out.”

Semi follows in amusement as Suga weaves between bookshelves, talking to someone whom he assumes is Oikawa. “A date? Are you certain? Well then, who’s this mysterious figure? You don’t know? Wow, the great Oikawa Tooru, stumped at last!”

Suga suddenly stops, a hand over his mouth. “No. No way. Oh man, this is too good. Text me your address, we’ll be right there. Why? I’m coming with you, you dense coconut! Plus, this is the perfect scenario for all of us. What? Then go buy tickets! Get three, we’ll be right over. Hurry up, Tooru, don’t lose him now. Bye.”

Suga turns around, then takes a step back, eyes wide at Semi’s close proximity. “Gee, you scared me. But anyway, come on! We’ve got a movie to catch.”

“What? A movie? Koushi, tell me what happened!”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Suga grabs his wrist and drags him along. “So my informant–”

“Oikawa.”

“Yes, dear old Tooru-chan. He was stalking Iwaizumi to find out who he was going out with and refused to help me, but what do you know?” Suga levels a sly grin at Semi. “The person we’re stalking just so happens to be the one Iwaizumi’s meeting up with.”

Semi stares at him blankly, and Suga uses a finger to close his hanging jaw. “You’ll catch flies. Lots of them, because it’s summer.”

“We’re in a shopping mall, there are no flies here,” Semi replies. “Are you serious, though?”

“About what Tooru-chan said? Yeah, he sounded dumbstruck. I’m pretty sure it is real.”

Semi shakes his head. He doesn’t know if he’s more confused or stunned to finally have the last piece of the puzzle. “Shirabu’s going out with Iwaizumi?”

“Only one way to find out, don’t you think?” Suga grins. “Come on, I just got the text, it’s the next mall over.”

-----

Oikawa is on his phone and tapping his foot impatiently when they spot him. He’s poorly disguised with a white hoodie over a neon pink shirt, coupled with teal bermudas. The sunglasses on his head seem to be slipping, and he pushes them back just as Semi and Suga approach him.

“Tooru-chan. What the hell are you wearing?”

“Clothes, Koushi-chan, clothes.” Oikawa glances up from his device, then does a double-take. “Semi-chan?”

“Nice to see you too, Oikawa,” he replies drily.

Oikawa shakes his head, causing the sunglasses to fall onto his nose. “Nope. Nuh-uh. You said nothing about your partner in crime being him.”

“He is standing right here. And he’s coming with us.”

“No.”

“Yes. No one’s interested in Iwaizumi’s chastity here except you, Tooru-chan. I’ll pay you back later, let’s go catch up with the lovebirds first.” Suga puts his hands on Oikawa’s shoulders and spins him around, pushing him towards the cinema.

Oikawa’s hands flail, making several pointless gestures before they stop dead, falling to his sides. “Wait, you’re here to stalk Shirabu-chan?”

“I have a vested interest in what my roommate does,” Semi tells him. “What Iwaizumi does is none of my business.”

“If the two of them are really on a date, then it’s Iwa-chan's business as well, no?”

“And that’s why, friends, we are here to stalk them and find out, yes?” Suga slings an arm around both of them, easily dragging them along though both are taller than him. “Now come on. This is prime blackmail material. Tooru-chan, which hall is it?”

“Seven. Wait, wrong direction, that’s the other way.”

With a lot more hustling and bustling and whispered arguments about their extremely pure intentions for following their friends, they make it to the movie theatre, only to find that their seats are at the bottom.

“Tooru-chan, how the heck are we supposed to spy on anyone from the bottom?” Suga whispers ferociously.

“Those were the only seats left!” Oikawa whisper-shouts back.

Semi sighs and pushes on their backs. “Just go. Keep an eye out for them as we walk, we don’t want to be spotted.”

Suga twists to wiggle his eyebrows at him. “Eita, you’re learning.”

“I don’t want Shirabu to spot us and start yelling. Not that that’s likely, but you’d never know.”

“Iwa-chan might lob something at me,” Oikawa says thoughtfully. “Best to just go.”

The theatre is already dark, the advertisements rolling. It’s hard to pick out individuals, but Semi thinks that he might have seen someone with Iwaizumi’s spiky haircut on the left upper side of the hall. He points this out to the others only when they’re seated, and the way the duo immediately spin back to check makes him groan. “You two are so not subtle.”

“Shut up, Semi-chan,” Oikawa mutters distractedly. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s dark, my eyes may be playing tricks on me.”

“So helpful.” Oikawa turns back around, folding his arms and levelling a haughty stare at him. “Why are you here, again?”

“Not for the furthering of your agenda, that’s for sure.”

“Shh,” Suga hisses. “Even if we can’t find them, we can watch the movie. Sometimes the best part happens after movies.”

“He’s right,” Oikawa says. “Iwa-chan’s not the sort to do anything during a movie, he likes watching them too much. He won’t even let me comment during the showing!”

“I can see why,” Semi mutters. Oikawa makes no comment, and the ash blond hopes that it’s just because he didn’t hear him.

The movie is not bad, though it would have been a lot better without Oikawa’s excited murmuring. Semi can hardly focus on the dialogue with the running commentary beside him, and resolves to find the movie online at another time to rewatch.

Then the credits roll, Suga reaches over to tap his hand, and he suddenly remembers why they were all there.

The glow of the theatre screen is enough for him to make out Suga's gestured message: stay until the lights go up, and wait for Iwaizumi and Shirabu to leave before following them.

It sounds easy enough, and Semi leans back, eyes tracking the people streaming out, trying to pick out any silhouettes that look familiar.

He sees nothing of interest – there are individuals and families and the occasional couple, but he does not spot the two young men they are looking for leaving the movie theatre.

“Maybe they’re waiting for the after-credits,” Suga murmurs. “Everyone knows to wait for those.”

Oikawa snorts, motioning to those already leaving. “Not everyone, apparently.”

“Amateurs.”

“Precisely. Now, brilliant as I am, I have never missed an after-credit scene.”

“And yet, you can babble loud enough for the entire cinema to pinpoint your location.”

The trio spin round at the voice, eyes landing on a nonplussed Iwaizumi, Shirabu sitting impassively beside him. Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows at his best friend’s companions. “Oh, Sugawara, Semi. Nice to see you.”

Semi manages to croak out a Hello, and Suga greets them sunnily. Iwaizumi nods to each of them in greeting before his gaze returns to Oikawa. “Oikawa, how did you manage to get them mixed up in your nefarious deeds?”

“I didn’t,” the brunet protests. “It was all– Mmprgh!”

Suga’s smile never wavers though one of his hands is clamped firmly over Oikawa’s mouth. “We were in the area, and a movie sounded like a great idea. We had no idea Tooru-chan was doing something evil.”

A snort draws their eyes to Shirabu. “Pardon me, Sugawara-san, but you’ll have to try harder than that to convince me.”

“Oh?”

Shirabu nods in Semi’s direction. “You brought Semi-san. That’s plenty suspicious.”

“I’m not a terrorist, brat. There’s nothing suspicious about this.”

“Anything you do is suspicious.”

“Excuse me,” Semi protests. He can hear Oikawa cackling beside him, and vaguely wonders when he removed the gag that was Suga’s hand. “I was just watching a movie with friends.”

“We're hardly friends, Semi-chan.” Oikawa reminds.

“Right. A friend and an annoying acquaintance.” Oikawa lets out a squawk at the description, and Suga laughs. Iwaizumi seems to be smiling.

“I don’t believe you.” Shirabu folds his arms, and Semi can hardly suppress his eye roll.

“Believe whatever you like. I have no cause to follow you.”

Shirabu pauses, head cocked as he turns over Semi’s words in his head. “Really…? Hmm. But no one said anything about being followed, Semi-san.”

Semi presses his lips together tightly, refusing to say anything more. His guilty conscience doesn’t know what else he could say that wouldn’t sound incriminating.

“Hold the thought,” Oikawa interrupts, twisting back to face the screen. “After-credit scene.”

All five of them watch the scene in agreed-upon silence, Oikawa grabbing Suga to gush after it ends. Suga nods along but pushes him away. Oikawa is unperturbed, turning around to talk to Iwaizumi instead.

“Iwa-chan! Did you see that? Do you know what it means? I can’t wait for the next part of the series!”

“That’s another half-year to wait.”

“I know!” Oikawa wilts, slumping on Suga's shoulder. “The tragedy.”

Shirabu rolls his eyes, and Semi privately agrees. Oikawa is entirely too dramatic.

“Were you guys sitting behind us this entire time?”

The words come completely out of the blue, and Oikawa and Semi turn to stare at an unapologetic Suga, who doesn’t seem to care that they are facing down a dragon.

Iwaizumi snorts. “No, we came down during the credits. We had way better seats than you guys.” He jerks a thumb backwards, in the direction of the higher seats, but his raised eyebrows hold a question.

“It’s not my fault that all the good seats were taken!” Oikawa complains.

“Yet now all of us have sore necks thanks to you,” Semi says drily.

“You wanted to come along, you dug your own grave.” Oikawa’s smile is saccharine, and Semi has to wonder what it is that Suga sees in him. Aoba Jousai's ex-captain is even more aggravating than Shirabu.

“Yes, about that. Why did you guys follow us?” The Aggravating Underclassman’s expression is carefully blank.

“Now, now, Shirabu-kun, let’s not go making false accusations, shall we?” Suga is still cheerfully optimistic. “Maybe we just wanted to watch this movie.”

“Maybe?”

“Whatever it is, it’s done now.” Iwaizumi raises his arms in a stretch, then slumps against the seat. “Do you guys want to get dinner?”

Everyone turns to stare at him, and he shrugs. “There wasn’t any real damage done, as far as I’m concerned. Just Oikawa being his usual, nosy self.”

“Iwa-chan!” The brunet sounds scandalised. “I have only the purest of intentions for your well-being!”

“I’m twenty, I don’t need your false worrying.”

“False–!”

“So,” Iwaizumi claps his hands together over Oikawa’s complaints and looks around at the others. “Dinner?”

-----

“A bit ironic to be eating fast food, don’t you think?”

“Not really. We’re poor college students, and there are always seats in a fast food joint.”

“Hmm.”

Through some unfortunate luck in drawing lots, Semi has been elected to purchase their food alongside Iwaizumi. It shouldn’t have been awkward, but given his newfound knowledge, plus the tension that had never really dissolved from their high school days… Well, maybe he was mistaken. It was definitely awkward.

Semi turns around at the sound of Suga’s laugh, and Oikawa’s complaints that follow. Shirabu is sitting stonily between them, looking as though he wants to be anywhere but there.

“Semi.”

“Yes?” He turns back to Iwaizumi, who is wearing a curious look on his face.

“I know you’re the most honest of the three of you–” He jerks a thumb towards their friends, “So I’d like to ask: Was Oikawa up to no good?”

Semi pretends to study the menu, dragging out the moment. He sighs after a second, the words bubbling out. “Truthfully, I’m not sure. I only heard Koushi’s side of the conversation, and all I can guess is that Oikawa was curious about who you were meeting up with, so he followed you.”

“I see.” Iwaizumi looks thoughtful. “You say you only heard Sugawara’s side of the conversation?”

Semi figures that nothing worse can happen even if he tells him. “Koushi called Oikawa to ask something, but one thing led to another and suddenly we were going to watch a movie. I’m not too sure how that happened.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “Oikawa and Sugawara are masterminds together. I’m not surprised you got dragged into it, or that you’re not sure how it happened. It’s happened to me before.”

“Really?” Semi’s surprised. Iwaizumi doesn’t seem like the sort to be taken in by anyone’s deceit.

“It was the first time I met Sugawara outside of the court. Not an incident I’m particularly happy to recall.” Iwaizumi frowns at their friends, and as if sensing they are talking about him, Oikawa turns around and flashes his signature grin. In response, Iwaizumi turns away without acknowledging him, and Oikawa looks so affronted that Semi laughs.

“I’ve never seen Oikawa look so offended.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “Spend more time with him and Sugawara together. Every other thing Sugawara says offends him.”

“Maybe his words hit a little too close to home.”

“Maybe. Their conversations sound mostly like shit talk to me.”

“Birds of a feather flock together, isn’t that what they say?”

“Oh yes. That’s probably it. No wonder they get along so well.”

It is their turn, and their conversation halts while they place their order and move aside to wait as it is prepared. Iwaizumi drums his fingers on the countertop, and Semi waits, feeling as though he knows what question he’s going to be asked. “Why did you follow Sugawara, once you realised what he was up to?”

Semi glances back at their friends, who are now throwing verbal insults at each other. Iwaizumi follows his eyes, and snorts a little. “Oh. Were you following Shirabu-kun?”

Semi’s a bit surprised at the suffix, but doesn’t comment, storing away that information for later. “I guess so. I have no reason to follow you, but I admit I was a bit curious about Shirabu being your companion.”

“Curious?”

“He never told anyone in our circle of friends that he knew you, so everyone jumped to conclusions about who he’s been going out with.”

“Going ou–? Oh.” A baffled look takes over Iwaizumi’s face, but he doesn’t get to comment, as their food arrives. They take a tray each and walk back to the table, steps slow to ensure nothing gets spilled.

“Semi.” Iwaizumi doesn’t look up from his path, though his words keep flowing. “You and your friends can rest assured that nothing is going on between us. We’re just friends.”

Semi snorts. “Even if you weren’t just friends, you would tell me that. But it’s your private business. There’s no need for you to tell anyone about it unless you want to.”

“Thank you. That is something that Oikawa and Sugawara wouldn’t understand.”

“We can agree on that.”

Their arrival at the table is accompanied by loud rejoicing from Oikawa, with a slightly more subdued reaction from Suga. Shirabu nods his thanks as Semi passes his meal to him though he wrinkles his nose a little, and the ash blond responds by giving him a deadpan stare.

“You two remind me of someone,” Oikawa announces suddenly, pointing at them. “What’s with this silent communication, huh?”

“You just said it, pretty boy. Silent communication. You and Iwaizumi do that too.” Suga throws a fry at him, and Oikawa pops it into his mouth with a grin.

“Aha, but Iwa-chan and I grew up together. These two haven’t. I wonder why they do that.” Oikawa wiggles his eyebrows at them, and Shirabu pins him with an unimpressed look.

“I live with Semi-san. At this point, he’s like the irritating older sibling I never wanted. Seeing him even more, in my own free time no less, is a horrific experience.”

“Watch your tongue,” Semi warns, mimicking Suga’s action and launching a fry at his roommate. “I’ll put bleach in your shampoo.”

“Save it for yourself, Semi-san. Your roots are showing.”

Suga and Oikawa burst into laughter while Semi throws more fries at Shirabu, and even Iwaizumi cracks a smile behind his burger.

Dinner passes by almost too quickly – insinuating comments and jibes thrown by Oikawa and Suga are countered either by Semi and Iwaizumi’s remarks or by Shirabu’s sharp quips. It’s almost fun, and Semi can feel himself relaxing as the evening wears on.

It’s been a while since he had this sort of easy camaraderie, especially with people his age. It’s nice.

They stay on mostly neutral topics – classes and friend groups and of course, volleyball. Semi finally learns that Oikawa and Iwaizumi go to a university pretty close to his and Shirabu’s, and they agree to ask for a practice match between campuses at some point. Their high school rivalry never did resolve, and it would be fun to settle scores now that they are in university.

“It wouldn’t be very fair to the other players, since they don’t know about the never ending feud between Seijou and Shiratorizawa.” Suga comments. “Everyone would wonder what the fuss is about.”

“It also wouldn’t be fair because we don’t have Ushijima-san any more,” Shirabu grumbles. “Semi-san is a setter, not a spiker.”

“Who said you’re going to be the setter?” Semi counters. “You can spike for once.”

“My spiking sucks!”

“Then work on it. Futakuchi can help you.”

“Ew, Futakuchi.” Shirabu wrinkles his nose, and everyone laughs.

“We still have Makki and Mattsun, so we have the advantage,” Oikawa crows. “See if your ragtag team can beat us now!”

“Do you think we can borrow Kuroo and Bokuto for this?” Semi mutters to Shirabu.

“Maybe, if they have free time.”

“I'll ask Kenma to ask.”

“You guys are cheating,” Suga quips, delighted. “Those two aren’t even from your university.”

“Koushi, shh.”

“Iwa-chan, stop them!”

“Hey, I can’t control this, don’t drag me into it.”

Their conversation derails from there. Semi and Shirabu spend so much time arguing between topics that Oikawa and Iwaizumi finally find out that not only do they attend the same university, they share a room. Oikawa pokes fun at Semi for needing to share a room – with his least favourite underclassman no less – and is promptly put in his place by both Iwaizumi and Suga when they reveal that he is sharing an apartment with three other people.

“An apartment is nothing compared to a room,” Semi argues. “You still have the advantage of more space. And privacy.”

“But Makki hogs the toilet all the time. Mattsun is always cooking and the whole apartment never stops smelling like baked goods. I swear, I never feel like eating cookies anymore!”

The brunet turns to Iwaizumi, who sips at his drink, never breaking eye contact. “And Iwa-chan thinks he’s my mum, as usual.”

“Someone has to make sure we get our deposit back.” Iwaizumi shrugs, then glances at the rest of them. “Do you know how much hair he leaves in the bathroom drain every day? It’s like living with a girl, I had no idea he had so much hair.”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa squawks. “I am perfect! I do no such thing!”

“Oh, I know,” Suga nods, completely ignoring Oikawa. “The one time he stayed over at my house, my sister got scolded for the hair that he left in our bathroom drain.”

“How irresponsible of you, Oikawa-san. How could you let someone else take the fault for your bad manners?” Shirabu deadpans.

Oikawa launches into a tirade, cursing them and their false accusations, but everyone sees the half-smile on his face, and no one thinks he means it. Semi thinks his face is going to split from so much laughing, but he doesn’t mind. He can’t remember the last time he felt so carefree.

It’s not until later, when they’ve split into groups as they walk to the train station, that the conversation dies down. Where it was a raging river before, the straits have calmed, the rapids settling, trickling into smaller streams with gentler currents. Their pace is leisurely, comfortable, and it feels like the excitement of the day has finally caught up to them, lethargy weighing them down alongside the heaviness of their meal.

Oikawa’s not surging ahead for once, having chosen to hang back with Shirabu. The other three walk ahead, discussing something or the other.

Shirabu eyes the older boy a little suspiciously. It is not like him to be this quiet and contemplative, despite the excitement of their evening. Even during the days that their schools were rivals, he only remembers the other as this contemplative right before he launched an unexpected attack–

Oh, no.

“Shirabu-chan,” Oikawa quietly begins, eyes fixed on the distant figures of their friends, “What are your intentions with Iwa-chan?”

Shirabu refuses to let his emotions show. The change of topic is abrupt, but he can’t say it was completely unexpected. He had been expecting someone to ask, at some point. “With all due respect, Oikawa-san, that’s none of your business.”

“It isn’t,” Oikawa agrees. “But as someone who had been in love with Iwa-chan before, I want to give you a bit of advice.”

Shirabu is too stunned to say anything, too taken aback by his candour and the easiness with which he speaks of such a topic. The lack of a response encourages Oikawa to continue. “Don’t get your hopes up, is what I want to say. Iwa-chan’s a great guy, but he sees most people as nothing more than friends. You’re going to be waiting a long time if you want him to consider you at all, and I think your affections are better spent elsewhere.”

“Oikawa-san,” Shirabu says slowly, “Thank you for your words, but what makes you think that I fancy Iwaizumi-san?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes, not unkindly. “Like I said, I was there once. That face you have around him is the same one that Makki and Mattsun told me I used to make whenever I spoke to Iwa-chan, and he’s my childhood friend. Lovestruck.” He shakes his head, chuckling. “Maybe I’m wrong – I don’t think I am – but if you want to pursue him in that manner and you get rejected, just remember it’s not the end of the world.”

“Oikawa-san, I have had crushes before. I know what life after rejection feels like.”

The older grins slyly at him. “So you admit you like him?”

“I never said that. I just said I know what rejection feels like.”

“Mmhmm.” Oikawa smirks knowingly. “Of course you do. But again, a crush is a crush, and love is something more, don’t you think?”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“Love is a lot easier than a crush,” Oikawa tells him. “No jittery feelings, just a blossoming warmth. It took me a long time to realise that, myself. But you know what? You’ll get there when you get there.”

“Yes.” Shirabu deadpans. “Thank you for your sagely advice.”

“You’re very welcome.” Oikawa winks and skips ahead. “Come on. I think they’ve found dessert!”

Their friends have indeed found an uncrowded ice cream shop, and they file inside, swarming the display. Shirabu's on the edge of their group, trying to peer at the flavours. He’s not short, but it’s difficult to see with the others blocking his view.

“What are you getting?”

He glances up at Iwaizumi, then turns back to frown at the glass. “I don’t know. Lychee looks interesting, but vanilla is always a safer choice.”

“Why don’t you ask for a sample, then? No point getting something that you wouldn’t like.”

“Good point.” He tries to catch the attention of the server, but Iwaizumi beats him to it. He takes the two spoons from the server with thanks, handing a spoon to Shirabu. “Here.”

“Thank you.” He bites off half the ice cream, artificial flavour exploding across his tongue. He wrinkles his nose, and Iwaizumi laughs around his own spoon.

“Not good?”

“Too sweet.” He eats the rest of the sample anyway, chewing sullenly on the plastic. “What was yours?”

“Blueberry. It’s good.”

“Hmm. Maybe I’ll try that.”

“I’ll ask for you.” Iwaizumi turns back to the server, while Shirabu reaches up to put the spoon in the bin provided.

There’s a nudge on his shoulder, and he turns, only to startle at the sight of a spoon in front of his face. Semi smirks, but shoves the spoon towards him. “You’ll like this one.”

Shirabu stares at the spoon and the teeth marks in the ice cream. “Did you already eat half of it?”

“Yeah, but I don’t like it and I think you would, so you eat it.”

“I am not your dustbin,” Shirabu complains, but closes his lips around the spoon. Semi lets it go, and Shirabu frowns at him around the burst of flavour. “Hey, this is nice.”

“It’s sea salt with something or the other. Told you you’d like it.”

Shirabu grumbles at him and puts the spoon in the bin, accepting the new sample spoon from Iwaizumi. He thinks he hears Semi go back over to where Suga is calling him as he mulls over the new flavour.

“How is it?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Not bad. Maybe I’ll get this one and the other sea salt thing.”

“You must like ice cream a lot.”

“I don’t get to have it often, Iwaizumi-san. Stop judging my diet.” Shirabu huffs.

(The other doesn’t need to know how much he loves the sweet treat.)

Iwaizumi laughs. “No judgement. I watch Oikawa eat too much milk bread daily, it’s just second nature to watch out for others’ sugar intake.”

“Once in a while is fine,” Shirabu insists.

“Yes, that’s true. But how do I know that this is your first time in a while?”

Shirabu’s about to protest when he sees Iwaizumi’s lips twitch. “You’re teasing me.”

“Absolutely not,” the older says, but he’s grinning. Shirabu holds back his initial response, rolling his eyes instead.

After sampling almost all the flavours, everyone decides on what they want. Suga and Shirabu are elected to buy the ice cream while the others go get a seat.

The wait isn’t long, but as they watch the girl prepare their dessert, Suga asks, “Was Tooru-chan lecturing you about Iwaizumi?”

Shirabu stares at him. He had just pushed that conversation to the back of his mind, and here it was being brought up again.

(He should have expected it, but at the same time, he had been hoping that it wouldn’t be brought back up.)

Suga laughs at his expression. “No, we didn’t plan this, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just happen to know how he works, and what he would have spoken to you about. He probably told you not to get your hopes up, right?”

“If you know,” Shirabu starts, “Then why would you ask about it?”

“Because I’m curious,” Suga says simply. “And because I’m as nosy as he is. Now, I haven’t faced rejection the way Tooru-chan has, so my advice is to not listen to him. Take your own feelings into account. He worries for others because he’s a little more fragile and he took that rejection badly. You, I think, are more resilient.” The silver-haired man hands him some of the ice cream cups and picks up the remainder, tilting his head towards their table with a small smile. “Think on it. But for now, shall we?”

Shirabu follows him silently, turning over the words of both young men in his mind. It’s too much for an evening, especially when he had been expecting a quiet afternoon out. He’s getting tired of all the people lecturing him on things he does not want their advice on. He’s quiet as he picks at his ice cream, and only looks up when he feels something nudge his foot.

Semi raises his eyebrows at him, his eyes holding a question, but Shirabu shakes his head. It’s nothing.

The ash blond raises an eyebrow to convey his disbelief, to which Shirabu rolls his eyes. Don’t worry about me.

Semi shrugs and turns back to the conversation that the others are having, allowing Shirabu to push those thoughts aside and focus on the present.

He has plenty of time later to worry about their advice. For now, he is going to enjoy the company of those he is with.

-----

They say their goodbyes at the station, parting to return to their respective accommodations. Shirabu is still rather quiet, but Semi chooses to say nothing. He had seen Oikawa and Suga speaking to him earlier, and figures he doesn’t need any more 'advice'.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

He turns to look at Shirabu, whose eyes are closed as he rests his head against the back of the seat. Semi sighs. “No. Should I be saying anything?”

“I figured you might want to add your two cents' worth, since Oikawa-san and Sugawara-san have already done so.”

Semi snorts. “Who am I to give you advice on your love life? Do what you like.”

One eye opens to regard him. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I don’t trust you on that, but I never trust you.” His eye closes, but Semi does not sense any ill intent coming from him.

“What do you mean, you don’t trust me?” Semi protests, half-jokingly.

“I mean, maybe you let something like that slip again…” Shirabu opens his eyes, staring at him unapologetically. “I can’t think of any other reason why Oikawa-san and Sugawara-san would be so open about giving me 'advice’ like that.”

Semi blinks at him, first in confusion, then in anger. “Is that what you’re worried about? Why they decided to give you advice?”

“It is a cause for concern–”

“And you really think that I would do that again? I said I wouldn’t, and I haven’t. Have you stopped to consider that they don’t mind talking about it because they don’t care about the gender of your partner? I get why you’d suspect I told them, but I swear I didn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t they care? It’s not a normal thing, is it?”

“I’m– What– No– Ugh.” Semi presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, groaning. “Why are you saying that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“Are you saying that whatever you or I feel for others is unnatural, then? That anyone else who is like us – who doesn’t fit society's norm – is not normal?”

“To them it is. To us, it’s perfectly fine.”

“Exactly.” Semi points at Shirabu accusingly. “So why are you so hung up on why Oikawa and Koushi decided to talk to you about it?”

“Well, I’m sorry that I don’t know if they are like us or not.” Shirabu snaps. “Is it a crime now to be on my guard?”

“No, but–”

“Let me deal with my life my own way,” Shirabu says viciously. “I was shocked that they could discuss something so openly, considering how most everyone isn’t so accepting. You can’t exactly look at someone and tell if they’re going to accept or condemn you, now, can you?”

Semi bites his words back, knowing he’s right. “No, but I can tell you that Koushi and Oikawa aren’t the sort to condemn you for that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Semi chooses to ignore the sarcastic bite in Shirabu’s tone. “They – Koushi, at least – is very accepting and open. He wouldn’t judge you for your preferences. I don’t think Oikawa is the sort either. He’s an asshole but not a hypocrite.”

“Hypocrite?” Shirabu looks like he’s beginning to understand, but Semi decides to spell it out for him, just in case.

“Neither of them can judge you when they’re both dating men.”

The silence stretches as Shirabu stares at him. Finally, he says, “Are you sure you are allowed to tell me that?”

“They’re not subtle about it, they wouldn’t mind.” Semi says. “Iwaizumi and Koushi were the ones who told me who Oikawa is dating, so I can guess that he doesn’t care that others know who his partner is. Koushi enjoys flaunting his relationship, so he definitely won’t care that I told you.”

“Okay.” Shirabu’s expression is back to neutral. “And what am I supposed to do with this information?”

“Accept that they didn’t mean any harm by giving you advice.” Semi grits out. “Of course, whether or not it’s useful advice remains to be seen, considering both their natures.”

Shirabu snorts, rolling his eyes. “I know. It was sort of useful, I think.”

“…if you think so.”

They sit in awkward silence for some minutes, neither knowing what to say.

“You're really not going to bother me about it, then?”

Semi glances over, but Shirabu’s not looking at him, his gaze trained on the wall opposite them. He sighs. “No. You don’t need advice on what to do with your life. If you want to date Iwaizumi, go ahead. There is literally no reason that you need to tell me about your love life.”

“I never said I wanted to date Iwaizumi-san.”

“I said if,” Semi points out. “You’re practically admitting it, now.”

“I am not.”

“Are too. But like I said, it’s not my business. Whether you do or don’t date him, you don’t have to tell me.”

“…you don’t care?”

“Shirabu, exactly what don’t you understand about 'It's your life, do what you want’?”

“I didn’t think you’d be that approving of my dating someone. If I was hypothetically dating someone.”

“I’m not your keeper!” Semi throws his hands up in exasperation. “Or your parent! Do whatever the heck you want! As long as you let me know when not to come back to the room and interrupt you or something, I don’t particularly care–”

“Don’t insinuate things, oh my god–”

“You want to date him, it’s bound to happen at some point–”

“Shut up, I never said that, and I’m nowhere near even confessing–”

“You just admitted you wanted to confess, so you like him, at least–”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t know how to do this, okay–”

“You’re not stupid, just try harder, damnit–”

“You sound like Taichi, shut up–”

“Make me–”

The announcer’s voice comes on, interrupting their argument, and the train slows. Semi claps a hand over Shirabu’s mouth, cutting him off. “Argue later, it’s our stop.”

Shirabu slaps his hand away and follows him sullenly, hands in his pockets. The train station is quiet, though the streets back to the university are generously lit, the lights welcoming as they lead the way. There aren’t many people about because of the hour, and their pace is slow, unhurried.

There’s a sort of peace that surrounds them, tranquillity seeping through their skin, permeating their bones. It’s as if the serenity of the late hour is replacing the tension and weight of any other emotion, allowing them a space, a clear pool untouched by wandering thoughts. Shirabu basks in the rare bubble of tranquillity, feeling the last of the agitation from earlier slip off his shoulders.

His head tilts back, eyes lazily tracing the skyline, searching for stars that are unseen. It makes him smile a little, at the futility of his action. It’s been so long, and of course he knows that the stars are obscured, but he still can’t help looking. It reminds him of another time, almost too long ago – almost a year ago now.

(How time flies.)

“Semi-san.”

“Yeah?”

“Remember when we first met in Tokyo?”

“You mean how we first found out we had to live together?”

“Oh, yes. The horror.” Shirabu sounds so sarcastic that Semi has to crack a smile. “But I was thinking of the time after that, when we went out to find ice cream and yet never did.”

“We– Oh. Yeah, we did, didn’t we?” Semi tilts his head back; his turn now, at searching for lights in the starless sky. “We’ve had ice cream lots of times after that, though.”

“Yeah.” Shirabu is quiet as he thinks. “A lot of times.”

“Enough times that I know you never try any new flavours,” Semi teases. “I was actually surprised that you got flavoured ice cream today.”

“I like trying new things once in a while, geez.” Shirabu kicks at his heel, trying to trip him.

(He doesn’t succeed.)

“No, you don’t.”

“Shut up and let me do what I want.” Shirabu grumbles, and Semi laughs.

“You’ll always do whatever you want, regardless of what I say.”

“You’ve got a point.”

They shuffle along in companionable silence, growing closer and closer to the school, passing by familiar neighbourhoods to reach their destination. There’s a tug on his sleeve and Semi looks down, but Shirabu isn’t looking back at him.

“What is it?”

“Are you going to tell Kenma and Futakuchi?”

“About what?” He thinks he knows what.

Shirabu makes an annoyed sound. “What you saw today.”

“No?” Semi’s puzzled. “Why would I?”

“Because they’re dying to know who my 'mysterious friend' is? Don’t deny it, I know they’ve asked you about it.”

“Again: why would I do that?” Semi is perplexed. “Just because they’re being nosy doesn’t mean I have to indulge them.”

“But you were curious too.”

“So sue me for wondering if you were in bad company all the times that you went out and came home so late.” Semi throws his hands up in exasperation. He seems to be doing that a lot, lately. “It’s your life. I just want to know that I won’t have to wake up to an empty room and the cops at the door because you went missing!”

Shirabu stares at him for a second, then lets out a snort. “You are so dramatic.”

“I’m worried!”

“Yeah, yeah.” His steps slow as he turns to face Semi. “Were you following us on purpose?”

“You never give up, do you?” Semi groans, raising a hand instinctively to block the punch Shirabu throws. “No, not at first.”

“Not at first?”

“Stop being so dramatic, geez. I was just telling Koushi the usual gossip he wanted to hear and the next thing I know, he’s called Oikawa and all the pieces have fallen into place like some miracle and we’re in the movie theatre.” Semi rolls his eyes. “I had no intention of following you, but Koushi dragged me into it.”

“Oh.” That shuts him up for a bit. “Sugawara-san is a lot sneakier than I gave him credit for.”

Semi laughs. “Oh, you have no idea. You should have heard the story of how he tricked Sawamura into confessing first. That was hilarious.”

“Sugawara-san did– What?”

Semi laughs harder at Shirabu’s stunned expression. “Koushi never lets Sawamura live it down. The story goes that Sawamura was stuttering and delaying it, and Koushi egged him on until he was half-dead with embarrassment.”

“…remind me never to get on Sugawara-san's bad side. Poor Sawamura-san.”

“Well, they’re very happy together, so I wouldn’t say that,” Semi hums. “I think Sawamura came to Tokyo with Koushi, so you can go witness their lovey-dovey stuff for yourself.”

“You want me to be a third wheel? No thanks.”

“Ask Iwaizumi to go with you.”

Shirabu makes a sound like a dying duck. “Then it’s going to look like a double date. No. No, no, no, I am not doing this–”

“For goodness’ sake, you like the guy, just ask him out!”

“It’s complicated!”

“Then uncomplicate it!”

“How!”

“I don’t know!”

They’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk, yelling at each other, and it suddenly occurs to Semi that they are too close to the residential areas to be making a racket, especially this late at night. His gaze darts about, and seeing no one, shushes Shirabu every time he tries to speak, dragging him along.

“We are trying not to be more of a public nuisance,” he hisses to the struggling brunet. “We probably woke up half the blocks with our yelling.”

“You started it,” Shirabu mumbles.

“No, you did.”

“No, it was you. Stop coming up with embarrassing ideas and I won’t have to yell!”

Semi shushes him again. “And if I don’t give you ideas, you’re never going to confess to him!”

“You’re not exactly the poster child for successful relationships, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Semi winces, the memory of a certain redhead and another, broader figure coming to mind. “I know what not to do, which is why I’m telling you what you should do.”

“I will muddle my way through my own relationship mess, thank you very much. You and Taichi can keep your noses out of it.”

“I’m helping you here,” Semi says, exasperated. At this point, exasperation is going to be the only emotion he associates with Shirabu. “Ask Iwaizumi to show Koushi and Sawamura around Tokyo on my behalf because I’m busy or something. Only Koushi and you will ever know it’s a double date.”

“…you are more evil than I gave you credit for, Semi-san.”

“Blame Koushi. He’s rubbing off on me.”

They walk the rest of the way back to the dorms in silence. The quiet surrounding them is broken only by the sound of traffic, the scuffle of their shoes on the pavement, the slight whisper of the wind as it passes them by. Each is lost in his own thoughts, but soon they unite in action – pulling at the fabric that clings to their skin, shifting uncomfortably under the straps of their bags.

It is summer, and it is too hot to be in a city, where the lights add to the heat and the buildings never release their stored thermal energy fast enough. But somewhere in the midst of the cloying heat that melts brains, the duo seem to have come to a silent consensus, a remembrance of their truce – the shadow of a memory from times long past.

They trek back to their room, movements almost in sync, and it feels like they’ve found their own little glade of serenity – individualistic yet slightly interdependent. Slightly compromising, that they may coexist.

The night is warm, but they don’t want to turn on the air conditioning. They make do with the fan in their room, shuffling around until they sit comfortably before it, the wind rustling their shower-damp hair.

“Is it warm enough that we can sleep on the floor?” Shirabu asks, eyes closed in the face of the fan.

“We’re gonna catch colds.” Semi counters, but he is considering it.

“Just for one night. We can use the blankets to prevent a chill. Unless it gets too hot, then all bets are off.”

“Well…”

Shirabu leans over and stretches up to his bed, pulling his pillow and blanket down. The pillow is tossed near the fan, and he uses the blanket to cover the floor, much to Semi’s horror.

“The floor is dirty. You’re going to get sick.”

“I’ll do the laundry tomorrow. Do you want to sleep here or not?”

Semi groans quietly, but does not answer. He leans over to his bed and pulls his blanket off as well, making up his own nest on the floor.

It’s way too cramped on the floor for two young men, and they are almost elbow to elbow when they lie down, the fan oscillating, stirring currents above their heads. The lights from outside peek through the gaps in their blinds, playing out across the ceiling. Below the lights, wandering across the short expanse of flattened blankets, fingers shove against each other, pushing back and forth in a lazy war for dominance over the seam where their blankets meet.

One hand draws away first – there’s the sound of rustling fabric, and Semi turns his head to see that Shirabu has rolled over, resting now with his head on his folded hands.

“Semi-san?”

“Hm?”

“Maybe… Maybe we could go on that outing with Sawamura-san and Sugawara-san?”

“‘We’?”

Shirabu makes the dying duck sound. “I can’t ask Iwaizumi-san. Not yet. But I’d like to see Sawamura-san and Sugawara-san's relationship for myself, and since you’re friends with them…”

“I’m mostly friends with Koushi.”

“Still.” Shirabu makes a disgruntled sound. “Please?”

“Only if you do something for me.”

“What?”

“If Koushi tries to insinuate it’s a double date, you’ll help me push him into a fountain or something.”

Shirabu makes another dying duck sound. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes, I’ll help you with that, no problem. Heaven forbid someone assumes that I’m dating you.”

Semi laughs. “Likewise. I’ll message Koushi tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Then there’s nothing but the sound of their breathing, but the sound of the fan and its whirring. It’s still warm, but not uncomfortably so, and Semi can feel himself drifting.

He doesn’t really register it when Shirabu calls him next, too lost in the realm of half-sleep. He doesn’t really register the soft touch on his arm, thinking it to be part of a dream. He doesn’t really register the extra warmth at his side nor the shuffling that comes with it, because he is almost completely asleep.

He sleeps on. It’s only later – in the middle of the night, when he’s suddenly a tad too warm – does he realise that the burning warmth in his arms, draped across his side – it smells hauntingly familiar; and the puffs of air on his neck – they may not be the fan, after all.

And maybe he’s a little confused, because even in the space between dreams and reality, he knows, he remembers their conversation, and he knows where the affections of his roommate lie.

But he doesn’t let go, though he scoots away a little so that they might cool down. He doesn’t let go, not though he has one arm draped over the shoulders of this figure that he knows well, not though the fingers connected to that hand and arm are cupping a head, the strands of hair soft and pleasing under his fingertips. He doesn’t let go, but leans in – though he’s still half-asleep, still tangled in the tendrils of a dream – pressing his lips to the curve of skin covered by strands of wayward fringe. He thinks, at least, that this might be Shirabu’s forehead.

And as he inhales the scent of camellia and lye, his lips curve up into a smile. A guilty smile, a secret smile; a smile no one but himself and the night know about.

He drifts, and falls back to sleep.

#semishira #semi eita #shirabu kenjirou #kawanishi taichi #sugawara koushi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #cygnus #my writing

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