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Takahiro stared at the blank computer screen. He could do this. He could do this. He... couldn't do this. With a loud groan, he shuts his laptop closed for the millionth time since he woke up over an hour ago.
It was two weeks since his huge Kinesiology exam, and his professor had told his class that their marks would be posted at this date at noon. But because Takahiro was apparently a giant wuss, he couldn't even bring himself to turn on his computer, or even look at his phone. Usually he wasn't so antsy about getting his marks; he considered himself pretty responsible and smart, with great time management skills, and his marks vouched for that. But the night before this particular exam had been the one in which fate decided to prove him wrong and have him lock himself out of his own apartment. Needless to say, he hadn't studied as much as he wanted to, and he had been on edge ever since.
Takahiro sighs and decides to just suck it up and check, but when he starts to reach for this laptop his hand starts to shake so badly and god he was such a coward. He considers closing his eyes and doing it, thinking that maybe it'd be easier if he doesn't have to see anything until it's absolutely necessary when there are two resounding knocks on his front door before someone walks in.
"Pardon the intrusion," a voice says quietly before saying louder, "Hanamaki! I brought lunch! Or breakfast, considering how fucking late you always wake up..."
"In the bedroom," he calls back, not bothering to move from his spot, too busy biting at his nails and wondering why he was such a failure at life.
The door to his room opens, and his long time friend and classmate Iwaizumi comes in. "Hey," he greets, pushing Takahiro's blanket to the floor to make himself space on the bed. He sits crosslegged on one end, facing Takahiro as he digs into the bag he had brought with him. "I got burgers."
Takahiro doesn't reply, too busy thinking about what he's going to do with his life when he finally gathers up the courage to check his mark and see that he's totally bombed.
Confused by the lack of response, Iwaizumi looks up from the bag and raises an eyebrow, cheeks stuffed with fries. "Wassa mattah?"
Takahiro just points at his computer, beginning to bite the nails of his other hand.
It takes Iwaizumi a moment to understand, but when he does he just rolls his eyes. "You're so ridiculous sometimes," he tells him after he swallows the fries, and he reaches over for the computer.
"No! No!" Takahiro grabs the laptop before Iwaizumi does, clutching it close to his chest. "I'm not ready."
Iwaizumi rolls his eyes again, and then rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie like he does when he's ready to fight.
Oh no.
"Hanamaki," he says slowly, as if talking to a small child or animal. "At this rate, by the time you check that e-mail we'll both be balding and walking with canes, and then it won't matter."
Takahiro makes a whining noise in the back of his throat because he knows it's true and he hates when Iwaizumi is right. "... Can you tell me what you got, first?"
"If I do that, you'll just get even more anxious."
Takahiro wails and flops down on his bed, arms still tightly clutching the computer. "That's it! I failed, and I'm gonna drop out, become homeless, and die on the streets. My family is going to remember me as The Disappointment and they’re going to cut me out of all the family pictures."
Iwaizumi frowns. He's used to Takahiro being melodramatic just for shits and giggles, but to see him legitimately stressing out worries him a lot. "Hey. Hey, Hanamaki. Makki. C'mon get up." Iwaizumi pulls on Takahiro's limp arm and drags him up until he's in a sitting position once again, still clutching to computer to his chest. "Hey. Look at me." Takahiro does. "Do you want me to do it for you?" Takahiro shakes his head. He pauses. Nods. Iwaizumi nods back. "Okay."
Iwaizumi carefully removes the laptop from Takahiro's hands and turns it on, signing in and logging onto Takahiro's e-mail. "Ready?"
Takahiro clenches his eyes shut and nods rapidly, willing himself not to run out of his own apartment.
"Okay, here goes..."
Takahiro's heart is beating so loudly he wouldn't be surprised if Iwaizumi could hear it. His palms are sweaty, his knees are weak, and his arms feel like they're spaghetti. He's on the verge of puking on his sweater and really, all he wants to do is eat creampuffs, watch old cartoons, and not worry about anything anymore.
"Holy shit..." Iwaizumi breathes, and Takahiro is this close to having a heart attack. "You fucking asshole."
"What."
"How dare you get higher than me!"
Takahiro opens his eyes. Blinks. "What. WHAT!!!" He lunges at the computer and rips it from Iwaizumi’s hands. He sits back down and stares at the screen.
The number 97 stares back him.
Takahiro could cry. So he does. Just a single tear.
"Iwaizumi," he says, his voice a raspy whisper. "I think I believe in God, now."
"Aw, and here I was thinking that I was your saviour," Iwaizumi teases, pulling a small bag from the front pocket of his hoodie, and when he opens it, Takahiro can already smell the creampuffs.
His eyes widen, and if he starts to drool just a little bit well, that is certainly not his fault. "Did I say God? My mistake." He bows down low in front of Iwaizumi, the tips of his fingers touching the other's knees. "I meant to say that I have always believed in my Lord and Saviour Hajime. He is so amazing. I devote my life to Him and only Him."
"Oh get up, you idiot," Iwaizumi growls. "Just take the damn creampuffs."
Takahiro does, and he finishes them in record time. The regret is instantaneous. "Hey, Hajime-san..."
"I don't have anymore creampuffs for you," Iwaizumi tells him without a single hint of remorse. "Just eat your burger, it's getting cold."
Takahiro grumbles a bit but does as he’s told, and he can’t ignore the way his mood seems to pick up. Takahiro burps as he finishes the burger, and catches the tomato Iwaizumi throws at him in his mouth. He lays down and sprawls himself across Iwaizumi’s lap, much to the other’s protest.
“You’re a good friend Iwaizumi,” Takahiro drawls, feeling as though he could fall asleep again.
“Damn right I am. Don’t get too comfy. I have to leave soon.”
Takahiro whines loudly.
“Oh, hush. I’d stay, but Tooru’s sister asked us to help her move.”
Takahiro hums in understanding. “Should I come and help too?”
Iwaizumi takes a moment to think before he smiles down at Takahiro, his fingers running idly in his hair. “Mm, nah, I think we should be okay, thanks though.” Iwaizumi pauses to smirk at Takahiro, and the look immediately makes him nervous. “Besides, didn’t you say something about your hot neighbour treating you out to ice cream if you passed your exam?”
Takahiro paled at that. He had totally forgotten about Matsukawa’s promise with all his stressing recently. He must’ve mentioned it to Iwaizumi at some point. Takahiro groaned. Iwaizumi was like an elephant: he never forgot anything.
(That time he had fell from the top of the slide when he was six? Iwaizumi remembers it. When he farted so loud the whole class heard it? Yup. Not to mention the time he ripped his shorts in front of the girl’s volleyball team. Nightmare.)
“Ugh, I totally forgot about that.”
Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow but didn’t question him. “Well, now you remember, so you can go and eat some ice cream with your boyfriend.”
Takahiro’s face turned red and really it shouldn’t be possible to blush this hard. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Iwaizumi snorted as he pushed Takahiro off of him so he could stand up and stretch. “Really? Coulda had me fooled with the way you were going on and on about your incredibly hot neighbour with weird but sexy eyebrows-"
“Shut up Iwaizumi! J-just get out of here! I swear, Oikawa is rubbing off on you.”
Iwaizumi gave him a shove as they walked toward Takahiro’s front door, picking up Takahiro’s keys on the way, jangling them in his face.
“Don’t forget these,” he teases, stumbling when Takahiro elbows him hard in the side.
“You’re so mean, Iwaizumi,” Takahiro whines as he closes the door behind them. “Even after I hooked you up with Oikawa.”
“We were already dating before you “set us up”, idiot,” Iwaizumi spits, pressing the button for the elevator.
“So you say,” Takahiro sing-songs.
“Here’s an idea: why don’t you butt out of my love life and go worry about your own?” Iwaizumi says, stepping into the elevator.
“As eloquent as ever, Iwaizumi,” Takahiro swoons. “Tell the husband that Makki-chan says hello!” He croons, laughing at the middle finger Iwaizumi sticks up as the doors close.
And then there was one.
Takahiro sighs and contemplates going back into his apartment for a day of lazing around in bed watching Netflix to celebrate his good mark. But when he looks down the hallway toward Matsukawa’s door he is reminded of how else he could spend the day.
Takahiro takes a deep breath because really, the introvert in him is fighting hard for him to bring his ass home, but the love struck doofus that also exists is fighting back. And it's winning.
So with a deep groan, and a prayer to his Lord and Saviour Hajime, Takahiro makes his way to Matsukawa’s door and knocks.
Moments later, Matsukawa answers the door. Scratch that- a very shirtless and sweaty Matsukawa answers the door.
If Takahiro has to subtly hold onto the door frame so his legs don’t give out, well, no one has to know.
“Oh! Makki, what’s up?” Matsukawa asks with that dumb (cute) grin he always wears.
“Uh,” Takahiro says, oh so smoothly. “I… I got my exam mark back.”
Matsukawa has a look of confusion on his face before he seems to realize what Takahiro is referring to. “Oh did you now? And how did that go?” he asks, though by his facial expression and the way he leans on the doorframe confidently, he seems to know exactly how it went. “Did you get 100, or wait, lemme guess, there was a bonus question so you got 103.”
Takahiro rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “I…” he begins, thinking of how he should word it. He doesn’t want to seem like he was bragging, after all, even if Matsukawa had assumed he got a good mark. “Didn’t fail.”
Matsukawa laughs as though he was expecting such an answer (he was) and gives Takahiro a friendly punch to the shoulder. “See, I knew you could do it.”
Takahiro blushes slightly, bowing his head a little so Matsukawa can’t see it.
“So I’m guessing you’ve come in to cash in the promise of ice cream,” Matsukawa teases.
“You’re not the only one who doesn’t mess around about their food,” Takahiro tells him seriously.
Matsukawa laughs loudly. “I can see that,” he says, pointing at the ketchup stain Takahiro had on his sweater.
Takahiro just shrugs. “The burger was really good,” he says as an explanation.
“Fair enough,” Matsukawa chuckles. “Come on in and make yourself at home. I’m gonna take a quick shower and then we can go.”
Matsukawa leads Takahiro into his apartment as the other desperately tries (and fails) to not think of a naked and wet Matsukawa.
“Call me if you need me,” Matsukawa drawls as he walks further into his home while Takahiro settles on his couch.
Takahiro sprawls himself out on Matsukawa’s leather couch because he figures that what happened the last time was reason enough for him to consider this a second home. He picks up a volleyball magazine that is laying around and flips through it idly until he hears Matsukawa making his way back.
“Ready?” he calls, picking up his wallet, keys, and phone.
“I’m always a slut for ice cream,” Takahiro tells him seriously as he gets up from the couch, face blanching when he realizes what he said. Matsukawa on the other hand, has his hands on his knees, face red from laughter.
“Y’know, you’re my kinda guy, Makki,” Matsukawa says as he locks up his apartment, wiping away a stray tear. Takahiro bites his tongue as to not tell him that he’s his type of guy, too.
The walk to the ice cream parlour isn’t as awkward as Takahiro had anticipated it would be, even if he had embarrassed himself a couple times. He didn’t really mind though, since he got to see Matsukawa smile.
“I haven’t been to this parlour before,” Takahiro mutters as he and Matsukawa approach the door. The parlour is located not too far from their apartment, but is nestled deep inside the neighbourhood, where most people wouldn’t think to look.
Matsukawa smirks at him as he opens the door, letting Takahiro go in first like the gentleman he is. “I know. Not too many people know about it since it’s so secluded, but it has the best ice cream in town.”
“Aw, taking me to your secret hideout, Mattsun?” Takahiro teases, fluttering his long eyelashes up at the taller male. “How romantic.”
Takahiro didn’t expect Matsukawa to blush at his comment, but when he did, Takahiro prided himself in finally getting revenge. (He also indulged himself by gazing at Matsukawa’s blushing face without a hint of shame.)
“You’re so weird,” Matsukawa grumbles in reply, and Takahiro grins widely because he knows that he had won that round.
Matsukawa appears to have calmed himself down a little, because he stomps up to the counter and begins to ring the bell obnoxiously. “Kindaichi! Kunimi! I know you’re there! Stop making out back there and come out and serve us!”
There are sounds of shuffling in the back room as well as muffled conversation, before two guys about Takahiro’s age step out, both flushed in the face with crumpled uniforms.
“You really have the worst timing, Matsukawa-san,” one with a bored looking expression on his face says. “We were about to get to the good part.”
The other one with weirdly styled hair (it kind of reminds Takahiro of a turnip) splutters loudly, and becomes red in the face again.
“I know that,” Matsukawa says in reply to the first guy. “And I really don’t want any bodily fluids in or around my ice cream.”
“There’s no ice cream back there, Matsukawa-san.”
“Bullshit. I know there’s a freezer back there and I know you sit on it and make out when there aren’t any customers.”
The guy just stares at Matsukawa for a couple seconds before he sighs in defeat, his shoulders slumping. “What do you want?”
Matsukawa grins and looks over at Takahiro. “You go first.”
Takahiro bushes a little because how can he be so cute at any given moment. “Uh, sure.” He looks over the large variety of flavours for a moment before he decides. “I want one scoop of Raspberry Ripple and one scoop of mango in a waffle cone dipped in chocolate. With sprinkles. Please.”
Matsukawa stares at him in disbelief and Takahiro stares back, face blank. “Are you trying to make me go broke?” Matsukawa questions, his thick eyebrows scrunched up in fake anger.
“You said you were treating me to ice cream,” Takahiro argues. “I didn’t know there were rules.”
Matsukawa shakes his head in exasperation, but a smile is tugging at his lips. “Get the boy what he wants, Kindaichi.”
After Matsukawa orders his own ice cream (two scoops of strawberry in a waffle cone, boring) he properly introduces Takahiro to the two guys behind the counter.
“That’s Kunimi, and that’s Kindaichi. We all went to the same high school a couple years ago.”
Takahiro smiles and greets them, a bit too preoccupied with the ice cream cone that Kindaichi had handed to him.
“So, Hanamaki-san,” Kunumi pipes up as he’s handing back change to Matsukawa. “Are you Matsukawa-san’s new boyfriend?”
If Takahiro was drinking something while the other had asked this question, he is sure that he would have spat it out all over the counter. But as of now, he only had his ice cream, so he resorts to just coughing quietly behind a closed fist, desperately looking everywhere but at the piercing gaze Kunimi sends his way.
“Uh… uhm…” he stutters out and really, he wishes that he had decided to stay home and binge watch movies on Netflix.
“He’s not,” Matsukawa says for him, though the blush on his cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone in the room. “And would it kill you to have some damn tact every once in awhile?”
Kunimi just shrugs. “Probably not, but it’s much more fun this way.”
Matsukawa just rolls his eyes and accepts his ice cream from Kindaichi. “You’re gonna get beat up one day, Kunimi.”
“Don’t worry. Kindaichi will protect me. Look at his guns.”
Matsukawa laughs and touches Takahiro’s arm gently, nodding his head toward the door, an indication that he wants to leave. “Anyway, we’re outta here guys. Make sure you look out for customers instead of making oooout!”
“No promises,” Takahiro hears Kunimi say as he and Matsukawa walk out the door.
“Sorry about them,” Matsukawa says later, ice cream finished, when they’re at the park behind their apartment complex, sitting side by side on a bench. “They’re really weird. Especially Kunimi.”
“Nah, it’s fine. They’re cool,” Takahiro replies, though he does have to agree that the pair were really strange, though not overbearingly so. Matsukawa snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Hey, everyone has their weird moments,” Takahiro says. Like the time I ate so many creampuffs in one sitting I threw up all over my maths teacher. Takahiro cringes at the memory, but then he goes stock still because Matsukawa is practically dying of laughter and that can only mean one thing oh dear Lord: “Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”
This just fuels Matsukawa’s laughter, and by now he’s howling, tears streaming down his face.
Takahiro literally feels like he’s about to die because he just told his crush one of the most embarrassing things that happened to him in his entire life, and he won’t stop laughing. And Takahiro needs him to stop laughing because if he doesn’t he might just combust.
Takahiro means to just put his hand over Matsukawa’s mouth but the instructions to his brain must have gotten mixed up on the way up there because instead of his hand, Takahiro’s lips are on Matsukawa's and oh my god he is kissing Matsukawa.
Both males freeze at the realization for a moment before Takahiro pulls away first, eyes wider than they’ve ever been as he covers his mouth with his hands. “I only wanted you to stop laughing,” he whispers, voice slightly muffled. Matsukawa blinks at him before he lets out another low laugh. “Stop it!”
“Sorry I just… I didn’t know that’s all it would take to get you to kiss me.”
Wait. What.
“What.”
Matsukawa laughs again before he leans in, and this time the two share a proper kiss and Takahiro’s skin is practically on fire.
“Y’know,” Takahiro says as he pulls away for the second time, this time staying close and keeping his hands on Matsukawa’s waist. “There are about a million other things you could’ve done to get me to kiss you.”
“Maybe,” Matsukawa breathes, a smile on his lips. “But this way is the most fun.”