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There were a lot of things Tadashi liked about Tsukki.
There was his snark. The sarcastic comments, whispered under his breath, often just for Tadashi to hear. Shared just between the two of them, like inside jokes.
The soft expression on his face when he was listening to music, eyes closed, convinced that nobody was there to see him.
The colour of his eyes. Like amber or honey but shining bright golden when the setting sun hit his irises just right. Dark behind his glasses when he was severely focused on something.
His hair. The blond strands barely long enough to be moved by a breeze. Tadashi would bet that it would feel soft to the touch if you ran your fingers through it. He really wanted to run his fingers through it.
His dinosaur collection. That may sound ridiculous in this context, but Tadashi thought it was absolutely adorable. It proved that there was still a childish side to Tsukki, even if he liked to pretend that he was all grown up and cool.
But most of all he liked his hands.
They were elegant, strong, pretty. They carried callouses on his palms and fingertips and sometimes there was tape wrapped around them tightly, showing off all the hard work he put into a sport that he used to discard as “just a club”. There was also a tiny, lonely freckle sitting between the third and fourth knuckle of his right hand.
Tadashi looked at those hands a lot. He started doing it when they first met, back when they were still children. His shyness and insecurities used to keep him from looking at other people’s faces. As they became friends and Tadashi started to feel comfortable around him, he began looking up to Tsukki. In more than one way. He admired and idolized him and he kept track of all of his facial expressions, because he thought all of them worthy of being ingrained into his mind forever.
And then that thing with his brother happened and Tsukki started hiding. Building up a wall around his feelings. Keeping them from the rest of the world so as to not have them betrayed again.
His honest smiles became rare, his cute blushes disappeared entirely and even his anger was hidden behind a blank face. Only disgusted grimaces and menacing smirks were left. Tadashi hated it. He hated that his best friend had been hurt to a point at which he refused to open up to anyone. Not even him.
And Tadashi had felt like he had failed as a best friend. They were supposed to take care of each other. To be the one person who always knew what’s going on in the other’s mind, even if they didn’t say anything. So, he paid more attention to him as ever. To the small things. He tried to find nervous jiggles of a foot, a twitch of an eye, the unconscious shrug of a shoulder.
In the end, his eyes returned to the hands.
Turns out his hands were the window to his soul. They were the little ripples in his stoic mask, that betrayed how much he actually cared, even when he said he didn’t. A clenched fist in the pocket of his jacket when something pissed him off. A nervous stretch of his fingers before a volleyball match or a particularly important exam. Fiddling around with his headphone cable or the string of a hoodie when he was bored. Something that never happened when Tadashi was talking to him. A giddy warmth always spread throughout his chest whenever he considered that fact.
Right now, one of those hands was lazily holding and scrolling through his phone, while the other was resting next to his thigh. Tuskki was comfortable. Relaxed. Which made sense. It was a Friday evening, they were done with their schoolwork for the weekend, and they were staying at Tadashi’s house, so Atikeru wasn’t around to upset Tsukki.
Tadashi was sitting next to him on the bed, also holding his phone but not scrolling. His eyes kept wandering back to Tsukki’s hand. The one resting next to his thigh. And therefore, also next to Tadashi’s thigh. Just a little bit to the left and they would be touching. Or what if Tadashi just “accidentally” put his own hand on top of it? It was nothing he’d ever dare to do, but he could.
He truly was a hopeless case. He really needed to get this crush under control. According to some magazines, a crush is permanent if it surpasses the three-month mark. Tadashi was at roughly 35 months and counting. He was still hoping for his feelings to just fade at some point.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t still also, somewhere beneath that all, hoping that it wasn’t unrequited.
And it didn’t mean he was able to stop himself from letting his gaze drop to Tsukki’s hand resting so close to his own and daydreaming about intertwining them.
“Tch.”
Tadashi’s eyes snapped up, his cheeks flushed, but Tsukki was looking at the screen. Smiling. There was a prominent flip in his stomach. He hadn’t seen such a genuine smile on Tsukki’s lips in a long time.
Two things happened in the next moment that in combination turned Tadashi’s entire brain to mush. Honey-brown eyes locked into his and the touch of rough, cold digits found his skin.
Tsukki’s fingers found their way around Tadashi’s hand, until they slowly picked it up.
“Hm.”
Tadashi’s heart was currently beating somewhere in his throat at a rapid pace.
“I always liked your hands.”
Tadashi didn’t dare say anything. He wasn’t sure if his voice would hold up even if he did.
“Long fingers. They kind of look a bit fragile. But they aren’t.” Tsukki’s eyes traced the shape of Tadashi’s hands as he described them. “Beautiful,” he whispered, lacing their fingers together. Tadashi’s breath hitched.
Tsukki turned his head up again, pinning Tadashi – who was very much freaking out – with his gaze. He raised his free hand to Tadashi’s face. A calloused, slightly sweaty thumb made contact with his cheek.
“I also really like your freckles.”
Suddenly the words just tumbled out of Tadashi’s mouth. “I- Tsukki- Kiss?” Oh, this was a nightmare.
Tsukki smirked at Tadashi’s attempt to regain composure and to explain himself.
“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”
For the first time – ever – Tsukki didn’t give him the chance to apologize. Which was not something Tadashi was particularly concerned about at the moment. Because lips. And- and hands. And Tsukki’s cold nose was digging into Tadashi’s cheek. And his breath tickled a bit, but he couldn’t care less. And suddenly everything was so nice and warm.
When Tsukki pulled back Tadashi made an embarrassing noise in the back of his throat. Tsukki smirked, but it wasn’t menacing at all. More amused.
“Just don’t wanna keep holding my glasses awkwardly. Put them on the nightstand for me.”
Tadashi was pleased to note that Tsukki’s voice sounded raspier than usual.
He took the glasses and leaned back to do as told. When he turned back, he was locked in. One of Tsukki’s hands pushing into the mattress on either side of Tadashi’s hips.
And Tadashi had to smile. Because Tsukki’s eyes were soft and loving and the corners of his lips were pulling up slightly. Maybe he wouldn’t always have to look at Tsukki’s hands to know what he was feeling.