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At one A.M., Tadashi woke up to his phone buzzing.
He sat up halfway, reaching groggily for his phone where it rattled noisily on his bedside table. He squinted at the bright screen, barely able to make out the contact name of whoever was calling him. Tsukki.
His heart rate picked up quickly. Was something wrong? Was Tsukki hurt? Did his car break down somewhere? Why would he even be out this late? It was a Saturday night (well, Sunday morning now), so it wasn’t entirely unlikely, Tadashi admitted, but it was out of character. He fumbled to press the green Answer button, putting the phone to his ear.
“Tsukki? What’s up? Are you okay?” He spat the questions out immediately, anxiety making him rush. On the other line, there was only silence for a moment, and Tadashi felt his blood running cold. Something was wrong, he thought frantically. He shoved his blankets back, standing up from his bed.
“Yamaguchi?” Tsukishima said finally. His voice sounded…weird.
Tadashi frowned, pausing where he stood. “Yeah? It’s, it’s me. What’s—what’s wrong? What’d you call for?”
Another beat of silence. “I don’t remember,” Tsukishima answered, and his voice was definitely slurred. Tadashi felt his anxiety dissolve, only a little. Tsukishima sounded off, but at least he didn’t seem to be in immediate danger. Rubbing his forehead, Tadashi sat back down on his bed, the phone still pressed to his ear.
“Sorry,” Tsukki slurred over the other line.
“It’s fine,” Tadashi said. He dropped the hand from his forehead, clutching his comforter instead. “Tsukki.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you drunk?”
Silence. Tsukishima answered carefully, “…Yes.”
“Tsukki!”
“What? We’re graduating soon, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima defended, “it’s not bad. We’re seventeen. ‘nd it’s not like we have school tomorrow.”
“I know, but—“ Tadashi stopped himself and sighed. “I’m not…gonna lecture you. You’re right. You’re capable of making that decision if you want to, I guess. Where are you? Who even gave it to you?”
“A friend,” Tsukki answered cryptically. “And I’m…somewhere. A party. I can’t remember right now. Hold on, I’ll text you the address.”
For the second time that night, Tadashi sighed. He unclenched his hand from the comforter and took his phone from his ear, putting the call on speaker so he could read the text. When he entered the address on Google Maps, it told him Tsukishima was forty minutes away.
“Jesus, Tsukki, you drove that far just to get drunk?”
“Wasn’t just for that,” Tsukki protested.
“Well, great for you. Do you have a ride home?”
“Um…”
There was rustling like Tsukki was looking for something on the other line, and the sound of a door closing. In the background, Tadashi could hear people talking, someone laughing, a distinctly female voice greeting Tsukishima; he took his phone off speaker and waited in the dark of his room for Tsukki to finally answer.
Tadashi was just starting to think he should hang up and go to sleep when Tsukki spoke. All he said was, “No.”
“So you need one, then.”
“I guess so. I sure as fuck can’t drive.”
Tadashi pursed his lips together, thinking. The clock on his bedside table told him it was 1:09 A.M. now. If the house was forty minutes away…
“Fine. I’m coming to get you,” he said a little begrudgingly, getting up from bed and flicking his lamp on. He grimaced against the too-bright light. “I’ll be there in, like, forty-five minutes. Where should I meet you?”
“What?”
He turned the phone back on speaker and set it on his bed as he scrounged around for his clothes. As he spoke, he wrestled to put his binder on. “What?”
“What d’you mean, you’ll be here in forty-five?”
“I mean I’m on my way to come get you?” The lilt in his voice was more at Tsukishima’s confusion than it was any confusion of his own. He slid the t-shirt he’d worn to sleep back over his head, leaving his pajama pants on. He’d be driving, anyway. “You need someone to take you home, don’t you?”
“I, uh. Yeah.” Tsukki coughed. “Yeah, I—I do. But you don’t have to—“
“Look, Tsukki,” Tadashi cut him off. “You can’t call me at one A.M., drunk, tell me you have no ride home from whoever the fuck’s house party you’re at, and then expect me to not come get you. I’m on my way already. Where should I meet you?”
“Porch,” Tsukki said. “The porch is fine.”
“Alright, cool. Then I’m leaving. I’ll call you when I get there.”
“Okay.”
Tadashi hung up.
--
When he arrived, he struggled to find anywhere to park. Cars lined the sidewalk, taking up all the driveway’s space, some even parked in the grass. A few teenagers stood around outside, talking and laughing. Tadashi could make out a girl with her head hung low, her shoulders shaking as another girl patted her back in comfort. No one even looked at Tadashi as he locked his car and made his way to the house. Tsukishima’s number rang once before he answered.
Tsukishima stood on the porch, leaning over the railing. He seemed to droop, his body bowed like a wilting flower, his head down and his phone against his ear. The other people on the porch didn’t seem to notice him there. Tadashi stopped in the front yard and waved.
“Here,” he said. He saw Tsukki scan the lawn for a moment before his eyes landed on Tadashi between the groups of partygoers.
“Oh,” Tsukishima said into the receiver before hanging up and hurrying over to Tadashi. Neither of them spoke as they made their way to Tadashi’s car, parked a little way down the road, and they didn’t speak when they climbed in, either. It was only once Tadashi had his GPS going and he was pulling out of the neighborhood that he said anything.
“So,” he started.
“What?”
The streets were blissfully empty once they got away from the house. He focused on this instead of how, even from the corner of his eye, Tsukki looked bad, with bags under his eyes and complexion so pale Tadashi would’ve thought he was sick. It only made the flush on his cheeks from the alcohol all the more prominent, and he smelled like vodka and a little bit like perfume. Tadashi wondered if he’d hooked up with someone, and when that made his stomach turn, he wondered why he cared.
“Nothing,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes trained on the road. He stopped at a red light.
A minute passed. It felt like the light would never turn green, especially when he could feel Tsukishima’s eyes on him from the passenger seat.
“Yamaguchi.”
He hummed vaguely in some semblance of a response.
“I drove myself,” Tsukishima said.
“So?” The light turned green, and Tadashi pressed down on the accelerator. Oh. “Oh. It’s fine…I’ll take you to pick it up tomorrow morning when you’re, um. Not super drunk.”
“I’m not that drunk,” Tsukki mumbled.
“Drunk enough to not remember why you called me,” Tadashi countered.
Silence from the passenger seat. His phone’s GPS instructed him to take a right turn in five hundred feet, and he flipped on his turn signal even though there was no one else on the road. Just a habit.
“I had a reason for calling you,” Tsukki said quietly. He slumped down in the seat, pulling his feet up so his knees rested on the dashboard.
“Yeah? And what was it?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Tadashi frowned. “Why not?”
“Because.”
More silence, this time on Tadashi’s part. It wasn’t like Tsukishima was ever super open with his emotions, but drunk Tsukishima was somehow worse with how ambiguous his responses were. At least when he was sober, he wouldn’t say anything at all.
But Tadashi wasn’t in the mood to try to decode his best friend’s antics. “Okay,” he said simply, and reached to turn the radio on.
On the way over, he’d stopped at McDonald’s and gotten himself a cup of coffee so he wouldn’t fall asleep while driving. Although it was technically illegal for him to be driving around this late, no one in the drive through had questioned his reason for being out, and he took a long drink from his paper cup now. The coffee was cooling down. If he didn’t drink it all soon, it’d be too cold to be enjoyable, and he kept this in mind as he downed it with one hand and drove with the other.
Again, he felt Tsukishima looking at him. Pop music played softly from the radio, something about the night being young and their hearts being younger or whatever. It was the kind of thing Tsukki scoffed at most days, the kind of thing he’d normally switch off as soon as possible. But now, he didn’t seem to register the song at all. He just kept watching Tadashi drive.
“What are you looking at me like that for?” Tadashi put his coffee back in the cup holder, laughing a little. He’d always been the type to laugh when he was embarrassed or anxious, and he hated it.
“Have you ever counted how many freckles you have?” Tsukki asked suddenly.
“Um.” Tadashi glanced at him. “No? Why would I have?”
“You should,” he said, instead of answering the question. “I bet it’s a lot.”
“Maybe.”
“How many do you think you have?”
“I don’t know, Tsukki,” he sighed.
“They’re cute.”
Tadashi’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “What makes you say that,” he said rather than asked, trying to keep his voice level.
“I dunno. It’s just true. ‘S a fact about you.”
“You’re drunk, Tsukki,” Tadashi mumbled. He repeated that to himself a few more times. He’s drunk. He’s super, super drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. And out loud: “You don’t really know what you’re saying.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Tadashi insisted.
Tsukishima was quiet from the passenger seat. For a few long seconds, the silence dragged out, and Tadashi thought his snapping had gone over some sort of line. But when he spoke again, Tsukki didn’t sound angry.
“I only had a few drinks,” he said. “I know what I’m saying.”
“A few drinks are still a few drinks,” Tadashi mumbled.
“Two hundred and four.”
“What?”
“Freckles. On your face and neck.” He paused. “And your collarbone. Whatever. Two hundred and four from your shirt up.”
“You counted? When?”
“Just now.”
Another red light. Tadashi stopped. “We were talking!”
“Yeah, and I was counting.”
“There’s no way that’s accurate.”
“I can recount, then.”
With the light still red, Tadashi turned to look at Tsukki. Tsukishima was still slumped down in his seat, his arms crossed over his chest as if he were cold despite the long hoodie he wore, his cheeks pink under his glasses. The streetlight cast a ruby hue over him, ghosting across his cheekbones and nose. His eyes were trained unmovingly on Tadashi.
A shiver crawled up Tadashi’s spine. He turned back to the road right as the light changed to green again.
“You’re ridiculous,” he laughed, and once the laugh was out, he couldn’t help how he grinned. “Just, the worst. I’m trying to be upset with you, you asshole.”
“Don’t be. ‘m sorry for making you come get me,” Tsukki said. “And thank you. For doing that.”
“Yeah, well. I wasn’t gonna just leave you there by yourself. We’re best friends, after all.” Tadashi didn’t think he could have done that to Tsukki, no matter how annoying it was to get up at one A.M. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep, knowing Tsukki was there, stranded, drunk. Vulnerable. Something bad could’ve happened if he’d left him there all night. His anxiety made him very vividly aware of that fact.
“Thank you.”
“You already said that once, Tsukki.” Tadashi hated how blatantly fond his voice sounded.
“I know. I wanted to say it again.”
“Why?”
From the corner of his eye, Tadashi saw him shrug. “Because.”
The GPS read out more instructions. With one hand, Tadashi navigated his phone to check the time. “It’s two in the morning,” he said. “We still have twenty minutes before we’ll be back at my house. You just…go to sleep, okay?”
“Your house?”
“Yeah. I’m not about to be the one responsible for letting your mom know you’ve been out partying.” Tadashi put his phone back where it had been.
“I won’t get caught,” Tsukki mumbled.
Tadashi gave him a look. The other didn’t protest any more, instead leaning his head against the window, using his hand as a pillow. “Fine, ‘m sleeping.”
“Alright. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
“Mm.”
It only took a few minutes before Tsukki’s breathing evened. Tadashi turned the radio up slightly and sighed.
--
Tadashi shut his bedroom door quietly behind them.
“You’re horrible at this,” he whispered to Tsukki, who was sitting on the ground in front of Tadashi’s bed, still sleepy from the car ride here.
“Sorry,” he mumbled back. Drunk Tsukishima apologized much more frequently than sober Tsukishima, Tadashi found out. Drunk Tsukki was also a lot clumsier, losing all elegance and charm he had sober in lieu of nearly falling up Tadashi’s stairs more than once while trying to sneak to Tadashi’s room. He’d almost woken up Tadashi’s parents in the process, and if Tadashi’s parents found Tsukki drunk, there was no way they wouldn’t tell his parents.
As long as they stayed in his room until Tsukishima fell asleep or sobered up (whichever came first), things should’ve been fine, Tadashi reasoned as he laid blankets out on his floor. It wouldn’t be weird to just say that Tsukishima had slept over the night before. That was apparently what Tsukishima had told his parents he was doing already, so at least the stories would line up.
“Whose house even was that?” Tadashi whispered as he spread out a second blanket to make the pallet more comfortable. He grabbed an extra pillow from his bed, the one that Tsukishima usually used when he slept over. He’d already changed out of his binder, and Tsukki was wearing an extra pair of Tadashi’s pajamas.
“Some guy from school,” Tsukki said. “I don’t know. I don’t know him.”
“You don’t even know their name but you went to their party?”
“I was invited,” he mumbled, sitting down on the newly made pallet.
“By who?”
“Fukumoto.”
“Wh—Fukumoto? You mean that jerk in your class?”
“’s not that bad,” he defended so quietly Tadashi almost didn’t hear him. Tadashi sat down next to him, gaping a little. He tried to keep his voice down as they spoke, but it was getting increasingly difficult.
“You mean, not only did you go to some stranger’s party forty minutes away and drive yourself knowing you’d get drunk—but you were invited by Fukumoto? Tsukki!”
“You’re gonna wake your parents,” Tsukishima hushed him.
He lowered his voice again but repeated, “Tsukki!”
“I’m sorry, alright?” Tsukki flopped back on the blankets, running a hand through his hair. Blonde curls stuck up at odd angles from the treatment. “I just wanted to…see what it was like.”
Tadashi deflated, his shoulders dropping as breath left him in a deep sigh. He shouldn’t have been so bothered by this. It was Tsukishima’s choice. It wasn’t like it was odd to go to parties as a teenager, especially as third years, and it wasn’t like he was drinking on a school night or before practice. This wasn’t a regular activity for him or anything, and he hadn’t gotten hurt, so what was the big deal? Why did Tadashi care so much?
Because he could have. And he didn’t tell me, and I wouldn’t have had any way to know or help him.
It was a dumb, irrational way for him to respond. Tadashi told himself this over and over. It was irrational to be this upset, to be this scared; Tsukki was fine, and that was all that mattered. Unfortunately, his anxiety didn’t seem to agree, and he just couldn’t shake the residual fear.
He took a shaky breath. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Alright. Sorry. It’s none of my business anyway. I shouldn’t be…reacting this way.”
“You’re upset,” Tsukki said, as if pointing out something new.
“Yeah—I mean, no, I am, but I shouldn’t be. I’ll get over it.”
From where he laid on his back, Tsukki looked at Tadashi the same way he had on the way over. Now that Tadashi was closer and no longer focused on driving, he could see the way Tsukki’s eyes flickered over his face, across his cheeks and forehead, down his neck, and he knew Tsukki was counting his freckles again. He let out something between a huff and a laugh.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Count my freckles.”
“I want to.”
“What? Why?”
“They’re cute, and I want to know if I got the number right.”
Something pulled at his chest painfully. “You’re still drunk,” Tadashi whispered.
“I’m pretty sober now, actually.”
“Liar. I can smell the alcohol when you talk.”
“You’re imagining that. I feel fine.”
“Yeah? Walk in a straight line, then.”
With only a raised eyebrow in response, Tsukishima obeyed, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He walked along the edge of the pallet carefully, tracing a mostly straight line as Tadashi watched and judged. He gave a sarcastic bow when he was done, taking his seat again. Unless Tadashi was imagining things, they were much closer together now than before.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Tadashi laughed.
“I walked in a straight line, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, while going the slowest I’ve ever seen you move.”
The corners of Tsukki’s lips pulled up in a small, amused smile. “Still did it.”
“Whatever, it doesn’t count.”
He was staring again. Tadashi’s smile shrunk a little under his friend’s gaze. “Are you still counting?”
“I was off by ten the first time,” Tsukki said. “Two hundred and fourteen.”
They were so close now. Tsukki seemed to be getting closer agonizingly slowly, and Tadashi realized he’d been leaning in the whole time they were talking. His hands were on either side of Tadashi’s legs, and his face was so close Tadashi could feel his warmth. His pulse raced. Tsukishima’s eyes flickered down to Tadashi’s lips, and he moved forward, and—
What am I doing?
Tadashi scrambled back, putting distance between them quickly, his eyes wide. His chest hurt with the same painful clarity that it did earlier. Tsukishima’s breath had smelled like alcohol.
“Tsukki,” he whispered. “Tsukki. Tsukki. What are you…?”
For a second, Tsukishima just sat there, still leaning forward as if Tadashi had never left his place, his eyes just as wide as Tadashi’s, his mouth open. But, after a moment, he composed himself. He closed his mouth, returned to something more neutral, and sat up straight.
“I…” His voice sounded off, not the way it had earlier when he was slurring, but—like he was choked up. “Was that not…?”
“You’re drunk,” Tadashi said, trying to compose himself too. But his fingers were tingling, the familiar warmth of a panic attack spreading through his veins and up his arms, quicker by the moment. “And—and I get…that you’re drunk. But I don’t really understand…You…”
“Was that not what you wanted me to do?”
“Of course it’s what I wanted you to do!”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is that you’re drunk!” Tadashi hissed, keeping his voice low even as he choked on tears. He might’ve been shaking. Everything was—warm, and his lungs weren’t filling all the way. “You’re drunk, and it’s a shit move to—Tsukki, I know you know how I feel about you, and I know you’re not entirely in control right now but you can’t take advantage of my feelings like that just because you—you—“
“Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima closed the space between them, laying a hand on Tadashi’s arm to help calm him. “Yamaguchi.”
“My feelings aren’t—you’ve been saying these things all night and I—just don’t get—“
“Yamaguchi, breathe.”
Abruptly, Tadashi shut up. And he listened to his friend, and breathed.
It took a while, but he calmed down from the panic attack. Tsukishima rubbed his back, offered comforting words and instructions, waiting patiently until Tadashi rode the worst of it and came back down. This wasn’t the first time Tsukki had been with him during an attack, and he knew it probably wouldn’t be the last.
By the time he was breathing right again, it was already 3:30, and Tadashi’s limbs screamed that they were tired. He wanted only to sleep. But he knew he couldn’t sleep yet, not with what just transpired, so he forced himself to stay awake. Tsukishima stayed rubbing his back gently as if in apology.
“I’m fine now,” Tadashi mumbled.
“Did you really think I was only trying to take advantage of your feelings for me?” Tsukishima asked suddenly. His hand on Tadashi’s back didn’t still even as he spoke, and when Tadashi looked at him, he could see the poorly masked hurt on his face. Well, “poorly” only to Tadashi. Anyone else couldn’t have been able to see he was hurt at all, but the two of them had been attached at the hip for so long that Tadashi knew how to decipher his expressions, his body language.
Tadashi’s heart sank. He looked away.
“I wasn’t,” Tsukki whispered. “That wasn’t what I was…I just wanted to. And you can stop worrying about me being drunk. I’m…mostly sober now.”
“Mostly,” Tadashi mumbled.
“Enough to know that I want to kiss you.”
“You’re still drunk!”
“I want to kiss you when I’m sober, too.”
Tadashi sucked in a breath through his teeth quickly. The hand on his back moved until it was on his shoulder, then holding his hand. Tsukki rubbed the back of Tadashi’s hand with his thumb softly. It might have been the most tender display of affection Tadashi had ever seen from him, and he was struggling to reel his head around it.
“You do?” And when Tsukki nodded once, he asked, “You’re sure this isn’t just because you’re…?”
“If I wanted to kiss you just to kiss somebody,” Tsukki said, “I could’ve kissed someone at the party. But I didn’t. Because it’s…” He turned his head down to their hands, looking embarrassed for the first time that night. “It’s just you.”
“It’s just me,” Tadashi repeated breathlessly.
Tsukishima nodded. He intertwined their fingers slowly, gently, like he was afraid of Tadashi jumping away from him again.
“It’s just you,” Tadashi said. “For me, too. But you already knew that.”
A smile ghosted across Tsukishima’s face. “I had an idea. You’re…not always subtle.”
“But we can’t.”
He stiffened. The smile started to fade. “Oh.”
“I just mean not right now,” Tadashi corrected hurriedly. “Because it’s three A.M. and I’m really tired and you’re still not completely sober, and I want our first kiss to be…” He paused and squeezed Tsukishima’s hand lightly. “You know, special. Or at least I wanna be completely awake for it.”
“Oh. Alright,” Tsukishima said, nodding. “That makes sense.”
There was silence. Tadashi fidgeted, unsure what to do now. “I guess…We should go to bed then?”
“Yeah.”
But Tadashi didn’t make a move to go to his bed. And Tsukki didn’t protest when he laid down next to him on the pallet, or when he made sure their hands didn’t untangle, or when they slid under the blankets and their legs brushed together. And neither of them said anything about falling asleep like that, even after they woke up.
--
Their first kiss wasn’t perfect.
Tadashi figured there was no universe in which it would be. There was nose bumping and fumbling and uncertainty and awkwardness and when they finally pulled away, breathless, Tsukishima said, “I’m so glad I’m sober for this.”
Tadashi smiled so hard that he thought his face would stick that way.