Can't Help Falling...[Tsukishima Kei x Reader 3/5]

He gets out of bed before his alarm screams at him to wake up, and he’s yawning and stretching his long arms above him as he happens to glance out the window to your house.  He’s strangely relieved to see that your blinds were still drawn and there was no light being emitted from behind the window.

            He’s quiet as he steps into the hallway and into the bathroom. His appearance in the mirror is cringe worthy; tufts of his blonde hair were sticking up like weeds in a garden, his dark under eye circles were back with a vengeance—he would take responsibility for that, you and him had spent and extra hour walking around the neighborhood…just talking.

            There was a faint smile tugging at his lips as he thought about last night. As much as he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. His heart was aflutter and his cheeks were warm. He accepted his fate and began undressing, preparing to take a cold morning shower to shock his thoughts about you out of his head.

            It didn’t work.

LAST NIGHT

            It wasn’t like him to linger after volleyball practice. Daichi and Coach Ukai had dismissed the team after a brief meeting and everyone rushed into the boys’ locker room to shower and grab their belongings. Tsukishima didn’t want to admit it, but he made sure to shower extra long this time.

            “Tsukki, I’m gonna head out!” Yamaguchi yelled over the sound of the shower.

            “See you,” Tsukishima yelled back.

            Just as he heard his friend shut the locker room door, Tsukishima switched off the showerhead and pulled in a towel from outside his stall. If he focused, he could hear the faint sounds of you and Kiyoko’s sneakers squeaking against the gym’s waxed floors.

    Once he was dressed in his school uniform with his gym bag and backpack in tow, he made his way out of the locker room.

            “Tsukishima, wait up!” He didn’t flinch as he heard your voice cut through the empty gym. He sent you a bored glance in your general direction and appraised your figure.

            “If you take as long as you did before I’m going to have wrinkles by the time you’re finished,” he teased.

            He heard you emit an exasperated grown as you ran to the gym office to grab your items. His eyes trailed you. You were still in your track suit, a jacket and long black sweats made of matted black material—Tsukishima didn’t fail to notice how it hugged your curves….he didn’t comment, though.

            You must have taken his jeering to heart, because you were right behind him as he took his first step out of the gym. You were panting and acting as if your heart was about to damn near explode as you caught yourself on the door frame.

            “What happened to ‘waiting up?’” you asked between short breaths.

            He smirked. “Well I never agreed to doing such a thing.” He turned to face you and accepted the glare you sent right back to him.

             “Uh huh, funny,” you blew your fringe out of your face. “You couldn’t wait up, but you had time to ponder about your old age?”

            “These crows’ feet aren’t going to get any lighter,” he mocked. “But at least my memory will be just as sharp as it is now when I’m a senior citizen.”

            You tilted your head to the side. “What makes you say that?”

            He shrugged. “At least I don’t forget to pick up my scarf after every practice.”

            “Hey I don’t—” but you cut yourself short as you finally acknowledge the absence of your scarf around your neck. A chill was sent down your spine, one, by the cool breeze blowing through the night and, two, from Tsukishima’s sharp acuity. Damn him.

            You looked up and saw him tauntingly wave the sheer lavender scarf in his hand back and forth.

            “Would this happen to be your—”

            You snatched it out of his hands before he could dangle it even higher. You two had been doing the same charade for the past few weeks. You knew that if he had kept it a second longer he would have extended his arm so high that you wouldn’t be able to reach it, no matter how high you jumped. You just beat him to the punch.

            He blinked.

            “That’s one thing about the youth that you underestimate about us,” you teased. “We learn from our mistakes.”

            He rolled his eyes and adjusted his backpack strap. “Are we walking home now, or are you going to continue disrespecting the old and wise?”

            You quirked an eyebrow up, “I assure you that I was not disrespecting you, since you are neither old nor wise?” You stuck your tongue out at him, earning you another eye roll.

            “Tut tut, do my eyes deceive me,” you continued teasing. “Or was that another eye roll?”

            “Your audience demands as much,” he smirked. “How else am I supposed to tolerate you?”

            “But you admit that you tolerate me?”

            “I admit that among all the annoying people I’ve met, you aren’t the worst.”

            You beamed. “Ah, so you enjoy walking home with me every night.”

            “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that,” he scoffs.

            “So why do you then?”

            “Do what?”

            You’re finally silent as you look down from his gaze and instead find yourself looking intensely at the cement. You don’t know what spurred this sudden shyness, but you had to ask…

            “Why do you walk home with me every night?”

            Tsukishima visibly bristled and his shoulders tensed. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it before, because he had, and quite often actually. He looked you up and down, admiring the strands of hair sticking out from your unkempt hair, the way your breath clouded in the cold air. He paid close attention to the redness of your fingertips, how they shivered in the night and he wondered: How would they feel between his hands—

            He shrugged. “No particular reason.”

            His answer was abrupt and short. Nothing that surprised you as you looked up at his face once again. He burrowed his nose into the folds of his scarf, but it wasn’t enough to disguise the pink tint gracing his cheek bones. You noticed.

            You ignored his gruff response and elbowed him in the side.

            “We better get home,” you said. “It’s getting late.”

            He hummed and fell in step next you as you both approached Karasuno’s gate.

            He made sure to stand a little closer to you than before as you walked down the street. You didn’t seem to mind as his arm brushed against yours.

    PRESENT

            Even under the scalding hot water and sounds of the torrential streams crashing onto the tile of his shower, he couldn’t escape thoughts of you. He didn’t hate it, but he didn’t particularly like it either.

            He closed his eyes as once again fell into a scene with you by his side. He remembered the countless times you laughed at a shared joke, or just broke character in between him teasing you and you teasing him back. It was strange to feel his face warm—even under the hot water—at the thought of his fingers glancing off yours as you both reached to open the gate to your home. The way your eyes locked as if—

            Then he shut off the shower and drowned out his thoughts by pretending that drying off his body was the most important task in the world.

    ###

            You opened your door and bid a perfunctory goodbye to your house, knowing full well that you would receive no words in return. The slight bitterness you held in your chest swelled as you tapped your toes against the steps and shut the door behind you. The door’s lock clicked and you muttered under your breath about having to return to an empty house tonight—again.

            You walked down the pathway of your front yard and you couldn’t stop the smile from blossoming on your face. Tsukishima was leaning against the wall beside your gate.

            His eyes imperceptibly perked up once he saw you and he deftly withdrew his headphones from around your ears.

            “Took you long enough,” he remarked, slipping his hands into his jacket pocket.

            “I was being considerate and decided not to take a thirty minute long shower this morning,” you said. “I wouldn’t want poor, weak Tsukishima dying from old age while I got ready for school.”

            “Are we really going to hash out this old age joke from last night?” he jokingly asked. You unlocked your gate and Tsukishima promptly pushed the gate wide enough for you to slip through.

            “Why not?” you countered. “Unless you want to explain why your hair is still sopping wet.”

            Tsukishima stiffened and realized that in his attempts to clear his mind of you, he had forgotten to wipe off his wet hair. His face warmed.

            You were quick to whip out a towel from your own gym bag and offered it to Tsukishima. He accepted it with a terse ‘thank you’ and began roughly rubbing at the wet strands. He was embarrassed of his mindlessness and avoided eye contact the entire walk to Karasuno. He was sure that you wouldn’t let him live this down for quite a while.

     

            Today the volleyball team was doing their mile warm up run around the school grounds. As per usual, Yamaguchi ran next to Tsukishima in the back of the pack—Tsukishima wasn’t particularly fond of being so close to such rambunctious and sweaty bodies whether by choice or necessity.

            The school grounds were pleasantly empty, aside from the occasional stray cat and teacher taking a smoke break. There wasn’t much thought that went into running, and Tsukishima’s stamina made this run an easy task.

            “I see that you and ____________ are good friends now,” Yamaguchi commented, following Tsukishima around the bend of a building.

            “So it seems,” Tsukishima replied. He sped up his pace a little bit.

            “She really is a nice girl, don’t you think,” Yamaguchi continued. “I didn’t expect the new manager to be so—I don’t know—good.”

            “Agreed.”

            Yamaguchi looked at his friend with a curious glance.

            “Tsukki, you don’t happen to—”

            “Let’s just keep running, okay.” Tsukishima’s voice was stern and it held enough edge to have Yamaguchi to drop the subject for the rest of the run. From Tsukishima’s periphery he could see the smile curling onto his best friend’s face. Subtle, Yama.

            Tsukishima never liked being called out on anything (but really, who would?). Yamaguchi had always been keen when it came to observing other people, it’s a given when you’re a naturally shy person. It still came as a shock when his best friend would start prying into territory that even Tsukishima wasn’t familiar with.

            Yamaguchi had always been his only true friend for a long time, someone that he could trust unconditionally; one of the only people he could trust ever since he and Akiteru had their falling out. Ever since that incident with his brother, he manifested trust issues that bled over into his potential, and at this point, nonexistent love life. Then there was you.

            You and your unwavering smile and spunk that had him grasping for words when you teased him back. It was so easy to trust you. But for some reason, Tsukishima couldn’t find it in himself to let down his guard completely. Not yet anyway.

            “Let’s pick up that pace,” he said to Yamaguchi.

            Yamaguchi nodded in response, surprised that Tsukishima would ever suggest such a thing. He went with the suggestion anyway.

            In a few seconds, the pair was in line with the ranks of the team, then they were in the middle of the group, then finally in the front of the line, the team seniors were nipping at the heels of these two freshmen.

            “Yamaguchi, Tsukishima,” Daichi called out to them. “Slow down, this is just a warm up, not a race!”

            “Tsukki, this pace is really—”

            Then Tsukishima started jogging and ran to the side of the hallway. He was panting and as he watched the rest of the boys run past him.

            Tsukishima had his hands on his knees, bending over to catch his breath. He knew he shouldn’t have stopped, he should have kept going. But he could care less.

            He swiped at a bead of sweat with his t-shirt sleeve.  He couldn’t focus on the run with his thoughts going rogue in his head. He broke into a light jog to make his way back to the gym, where you would be.

###

            “Do you really expect me to believe that you finished the mile first,” you asked incredulously.

            He smirked. “Doubting my athletic ability now, ___________?” he clicked his tongue. “And I thought your faith in me was stronger than that.”

            You made an exasperated noise. “That would mean that I actually had any faith in you in the first place.”

            “You never said or did anything to contradict that statement.”

            “That doesn’t mean that statement is true.” you countered.

            Tsukishima relented and let you have the last word. He didn’t try to hide the smile on his face this time.

            You couldn’t lie to yourself, you enjoyed these walks with Tsukishima; they were one of the things you had looked forward to since the weeks that this habit occurred. He was prickly and stuck up, but he had a good sense of humor and was actually really fun to be around (no matter what Hinata or Kageyama would say about him). At this point in your friendship, you trusted him to be honest with you, and there were no lines to be crossed when it came to your incessant teasing of one another. It was…nice. You both fell into a comfortable rhythm that had started pulling on your heartstrings.

            You liked him. You didn’t know how much yet, but you knew it was far from platonic.

            As you and Tsukishima passed by a children’s park you couldn’t help but overhear the conversation of two mothers, one with dark hair and another with light brown hair, sitting on a nearby bench.

            “Those two are always walking home together, huh?”

            “Oh, so you noticed too?” She let out a hearty laugh.

            “They’re cute together, aren’t they?” She elbowed the dark-haired mother in the ribs.

            “I assumed that they were already dating,” The dark-haired woman noticed your gaze and turned her head to meet your eyes. She smiled, and when you looked away she laughed again. “I hope that when little Takeru finds someone—”

            You gulped, and as you drew your focus away from the two mothers’ conversationm you tripped.

            You’re falling to the ground, but in the blink of an eye you’re caught in Tsukishima’s awkward embrace. One of his arms is around your upper back while the other is curled around your waist.

            You look into his eyes and they’re centimeters from your face. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he nervously swallows. His eyes are so incredibly beautiful up close, with golden flecks spread throughout his light brown pupils. There’s a faint smattering of freckles ghosting his cheekbones—no doubt from spending practices outside in the sun. The tip of his nose brushes yours and you take a sharp inhale. He blinks.

            You bring your hand up to steady yourself on his bicep and you feel the muscle underneath his jacket tense. You mutter a quick, quiet apology as you erect yourself into standing position. You brush off invisible dust off your skirt and smooth out the wrinkles on your white shirt.

            “S-Shall we continue our walk?,” you ask quickly.

            He clears his throat, nods, and waits for you to lead the way. He withdraws his hands from his pockets and they swing by his side as you continue your walk home. You experimentally brush your pinkie along the back of his wrist…he flinches but he doesn’t pull away.

###

            You’re approaching your house’s front gate when you see someone approaching the two of you.

            “Tsukishima is that—”

            “Kei!”

            You feel Tsukishima stiffen beside you as the stranger approaches, but as the man gets closer you see familiar features: although his hair is a darker that Tsukishima’s his eyes has the same golden brown tint. He has somewhat the same facial structure, but more mature and with a broader jaw line. And unlike Tsukishima, this man looks very friendly.

            “I thought you were arriving this weekend,” Tsukishima says through gritted teeth, not even trying to hide the acerbic tone in his voice.

            “Ah, well, the break started earlier that I thought it did,” the stranger rubs the back of his head, nervous and embarrassed. But then he makes eye contact with you and extends a hand. “Kei, who’s this?”

            “A friend—”

            “I’m  ____________ ,”you smile and return the man’s handshake.

            “I’m Tsukishima Akiteru,” he said. “Kei’s older brother.”

            You raise your eyebrows. “Tsukishima, I didn’t know you had an older broth—”

            “The topic never came up,” he replies. Akiteru visibly winces, but his friendly demeanor never falters.

            “You should come over for dinner,” he offers, throwing a thumb behind him to point at the home across the street and three houses away from yours. “Our mom is cooking something special as a homecoming gift, I guess. She usually cooks too much.”

            Three houses away?

            “Are you sure it wouldn’t be an intrusion?” you ask.

            “Of course not!”

            “Then I’d be happy to oblige.” you smiled.

            “Great,” Akiteru smiles back. “I’ll see you both in a few minutes then.” He breaks into a run back to Tsukishima’s house. Three houses away…

            You shove your elbow into Tsukishima’s ribs. He grunts and sends you a glare as he rubs the sore spot.

            “What was that for?!”

            “For not telling me you lived so close!”

            “It never cam—”

            “Yeah, yeah, it never came up.” Although your voice was angry, you couldn’t resist the mischievous grin pulling at your lips.

            You walk past your front gate in the direction of Tsukishima’s home.

            “Where are you going, ____________?” he calls after you.

            “Your house.” you call back, not bothering to turn your head.

            “Why?”

            “I was invited to dinner, correct?”

            “Yes, but—”

            “If you’re not in that house with me the next three minutes I’m going to eat your share of the food.”

            He’s grumbling but he acquiesces and speeds up his pace to catch up to you. He’s glad you never look at his face as you walk to his home, or else you would see his tentative half-smile.

###

            Who knew the boy you liked live so close, but yet so far.