“I just don’t know what she wants, you know?” Sawamura sighed as he shrugged on his coat. “It makes it a lot harder.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Tetsurou said helpfully, putting on his own coat. “You can usually win your professors over.”
“We’ll see,” Sawamura muttered. Together they stepped out of the café. They’d been having lunch, like they had every week since they started attending the same university - Captain’s lunch, as Tetsurou called it, even though it was just the two of them, and neither of them were captains anymore. They were both on the university’s volleyball team now, and it had been weird to see Sawamura on the same side of the net, but Tetsurou found he liked it more and more with every passing day.
Unerneath his goody two-shoes exterior, Sawamura Daichi was a bit of a bastard, and it was endlessly amusing to see.
“Calm down,” Tetsurou said. “It’s not like she’ll fail you.”
“That’s true, “ Sawamura said, exhaling again. “If she does, I’ll complain. Thanks, though.” He lifted his hand for a one-armed hug.
“No problem,” Tetsurou said, and when they separated, he kissed Sawamura chastely on the lips.
Shit, he thought. His face was very warm.
Shit. Sawamura stood frozen, arm still raised. Tetsurou didn’t mean to, had been moving on instinct or intuition or something - his weird crush on Sawamura wasn’t ever supposed to evolve beyond a few private fantasies, he’d decided that long ago.
Shit, he thought for the third time. What did he do now?
“Uh,” Sawamura said finally.
“Okay, goodbye!” Tetsurou said quickly, shaking his outstretched hand like they were businessmen and turning around to walk down the street as quickly as possible.
The only option he had, Tetsurou concluded after a half-hour phone call with Kenma and two listens of his favorite shitty pop playlist, was to run with it. He couldn’t exactly take it back, and Sawamura had seemed more perplexed than offended - according to Kenma, that was a good sign. (In fact, Kenma had seemed vaguely surprised Sawamura hadn’t decked him for even trying.)
It was still an asshole move, though, to just plant one on someone without their permission. Tetsurou frowned and got his phone back out.
To: Sawamura Daichi
He sighed, stuffing the phone under his pillow, but it wasn’t long before it vibrated with a reply.
From: Sawamura Daichi
> For what?
Tetsurou didn’t actually want to say it, and immortalizing it in kanji was even less appealing, so he decided to put off replying until he could talk to Sawamura in person.
Talking to Sawamura in person was suddenly a lot harder than it had been. Tetsurou had looked for him in the one module they shared, but no dice - at practice, they didn’t have a chance to speak, and when Tetsurou called him, Sawamura ended the call as quickly as possible with an abrupt, “Suga’s visiting, bye.”
It was really pissing him off.
To: Sawamura Daichi
< Captain’s lunch tomorrow, 12, usual place. BE THERE
“Are you dying?” Sawamura asked the next day. “You never caps lock.”
“I do when the situation requires it,” Tetsurou said, staring at him from the other side of the table. Sawamura squirmed slightly, then steeled himself. “We have to talk about it.”
“No, we don’t,” Sawamura said. “You made a mistake, you apologized, it’s fine.”
Tetsurou whistled slighty. “You’re pretty harsh, you know that?”
Sawamura frowned. “What?”
“Nothing. I can take it, I just hope you don’t reject girls like this,” Tetsurou said.
“What?” Sawamura said. “Reject? I’m not the one - you were the one who rejected me!”
“What,” Tetsurou said.
“Yeah, for kissing you without your consent!”
Sawamura fell silent, eyes wide. “Oh,” he said finally. “Suga said … oh.”
Tetsurou’s face was red, and he looked out the windows of the café. He really didn’t care what aspersions Sugawara had cast upon his character. “Well?” he asked, when Sawamura had been quiet for a while.
“Put your coat back on, we’re leaving,” Sawamura said.
“Uh, okay,” Tetsurou said, even though he couldn’t really see where Sawamura was heading with this.
Just outside the door, Sawamura stopped him. He looked like he was leaning in, then he paused and asked, as seriously as possible, “Can I kiss you?”
Tetsurou wanted to laugh at the earnest delivery, but instead he just nodded.
Sawamura’s kiss was chaste too, familiar without being perfunctory, and when he broke away, his smile was just on the edge of goofy.
“You’re sweet,” Tetsurou said. “A moron, but sweet.”
Sawamura laughed and led them both down the street towards his apartment. “Coming from you,” he said, “that’s not so bad.”