🐐

“Was that a joke, Wakatoshi?” He sang, swinging their hands between them as if it provided further emphasis.

Ushijima waited a beat - just enough that a tiny side of Tendou’s mouth quirked up. Then, he looked straight ahead, knowing his face didn’t betray a smidge of what he was feeling.

“You know I don’t make jokes, Satori.”

A jerk of his hand pulled his gaze back to Tendou, now dissolved into a fit of giggles that shook and rattled his body so thoroughly, he looked as if he were dancing. What a nice thought, Ushijima mused as a smile crept onto his face. To laugh with your entire being.

On a random street, surrounded by houses and the cool gentility of winter’s nighttime, he’s content to watch the dancing-laugh, their hands twitching between them as Tendou leaned against Ushijima, catching his breath, wisps unfurling in the cold air. But just as soon as he quieted and Ushijima went to open his mouth, he started up again, laughing and laughing and laughing, his body shaking in tune against Ushijima’s arm. All Ushijima could do was watch, smiling.

Then, it hit him.

As gently as the season’s first snowflake dropped from the night sky, falling to the earth in a sure yet slow movement, taking its time to dance down to its new home, so did the warmth unfurl in Ushijima’s belly, expanding and unspooling until he felt it slip around his body and nestle around his heart. He felt as if he were glowing. It was in the tip of his fingers, at the end of his nose, lighting his eyes as he suddenly inhaled sharply; the outside cold doing nothing to subdue it.

Tendou pressed a hand to his mouth, physically stopping the few giggles that clambered out of him as he turned his eyes to Ushijima, questioning, concerned. He asked, muffled around his hand, “You okay?”

Ushijima could do nothing but blink. He stared at Tendou as if a question had never stumped him harder, as if the answer could be found in the red of his hair or the crinkle of his eyes. Then again, maybe it could.

Sometimes love doesn’t hit you. Sometimes, it just reminds you that it’s always been there.

Tendou poked at the edge of his mouth, cold fingertips lighting a blaze against his face. “You’re looking like a fish, you know that? Like-” Tendou mimed a fish opening and closing its mouth, before letting out a nose exhale that told Ushijima he found his own joke exceedingly funny.

Ushijima would tell him that, let loose his observation and that he liked Tendou’s impression, if not for the fact that opening his mouth was currently followed by nothing more than a quick shut of it. Truly, a fish. But there was also a flame in his throat, ignited within him, fanned by Tendou’s curious gaze. Ushijima was burning up. So he did the only thing he could do.

He leant forward, bumping foreheads and noses with a startled Tendou, and he closed his eyes.

“Wakatoshi?”

The first snowflake. In darkness, the words slipped out of him as easily as the first drops of a storm.

“I love you.”

The words sounded weird and awkward from his mouth, unused to being said, as dusty as a forgotten vinyl in his grandmother’s attic; but it didn’t matter. Though too quiet, too small for the symphony of feelings swirling within him much larger than what he said, he hoped it’s just enough for Tendou.

When he leaned back to open his eyes, wide ones stared back at him, glazed and swirling with something Ushijima couldn’t name but very much wanted to.

Tendou doesn’t say anything. Only a shaky breath escaped from his parted lips, the sound of it very, very small as if Tendou wasn’t even aware of it. Ushijima wanted to capture it, swallow each and every sound until they touched the brim of his being, finding home within him.

Tendou beat him to it.

Arms wrapped around his neck, Ushijima was tugged forward and pressed into a soft, warm kiss. Under the orange glow of a street lamp, he saw snowflakes dance in the air around Tendou’s hair, twirling and jumping and falling, before he closed his eyes and kissed the love of his life back.

Tendou sighed. Sure and slow.

And then Ushijima knows.

The question startles Tendou out of his half-lidded gaze towards the floor, lying upside down on his bed. He lifts his eyes to see Ushijima watching him carefully. It makes his heart thud in his chest, sending even more blood to his head. He knew Ushijima would know he was lying, but he wanted to stave off the truth. Even if it was just for a moment longer.

“Testing gravity for funsies,” came Tendou’s reply, served with a cheeky smile and a wiggle that in any other circumstance would make Ushijima smile slightly and wiggle in response. Not today, though. It only makes Tendou's head drop nearer to the floor.

Ushijima, still watching him carefully, took a moment to weigh his answer. Then:

“Lie.”

Tendou scratched the carpet. “Yeah.”

Silence drifted in to the room.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Tendou looked at Ushijima, half in surprise. Ushijima hadn’t offered that before. He didn’t know if the wooziness rushing through him was from Ushijima or from hanging upside down for half an hour.

Tendou nods, the action awkward and hard to do upside down, but Ushijima understands. Slowly, letting Tendou watch what he was doing, he sits down next to Tendou; his weight jostles Tendou slightly on the bed, and he falls further.

“Help me up, bud? I’m starting to see stars.”

A hand reaches toward him dutifully and Tendou accepts.

Ushijima pulls him upwards, now facing each other. Tendou’s sure he’s as red as his hair, but he knew that Ushijima would blame it on the position he’d been in.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, neither breaking the silence. Tendou knew that Ushijima wouldn't want to talk until he did, but Tendou refused to go first. Not yet.

Remarkably, Ushijima seemed to guess that. As he shifted on the bed to face Tendou better, he opened his mouth to say something.

But Tendou wasn't ready yet.

He curled a hand onto Ushijima's thigh next to him. “Would you believe me if I said I’d love to be seeing two of you right now?”

Ushijima looks down at his hand, and Tendou almost thinks he's got him. The thought sends his stomach into knots, and his eyes flicker down to Ushijima's still-parted mouth.

But Ushijima intertwines their fingers instead.

“No. Talk to me.”

Tendou bites his lip. “Worth a shot.”

He sighs, letting his head fall onto Ushijima's shoulder. His shoulder was hard and solid, but he liked that. It made him feel less like he was going to break into a million watery pieces.

So, with his eyes squeezed shut, he mumbles to the hard, solid shoulder, “Do you think I’m friendly?”

It takes a second for Ushijima to respond. An agonising, excruciating second that sends Tendou's stomach into a panic, trying to digest itself.

An “Oh.” pulls him back to the outside world.

Tendou looks up at Ushijima's face, noting his confusion by the small downward curve of his lip. “Oh?”

“I thought… I thought you were considering something difficult.”

Tendou sits back, mouth agape, anchored by Ushijima's hand still holding his. “That is difficult! How am I supposed to know if I’m friendly because I’m, like, a warm, loving person or if I’m friendly because it... it was the best I could do to not be bullied as a kid? How do I know I’m not, like, you know-“

“A monster?” Ushijima finishes for him.

The words explode within Tendou, like some desperate, evil, awful thing he was afraid of; some monster destined within him, clawing its way out to wreak havoc on the world. Tears spring to his eyes, hot as the pain within his chest.

He nods stiffly.

Ushijima thinks for a moment.

“Does my opinion matter? On whether I think you’re friendly or not.”

Tendou sniffles, looking away. He nods again.

“I think you’re my best friend.” Ushijima rubs a thumb over his knuckle. “I think you’re warm, and loving, and that you didn’t deserve to go through what you did. And I think you are who you are because of everything that happened. Maybe you were forced to be kind, or maybe you chose to be. I don’t think either matters so much as what you decide to do next.”

Tendou's vision blurs, and he wipes a wet eye with his free hand. “Yeah?”

Ushijima presses a hand to Tendou's cheek as gently as he can, the touch warm and comforting. With Tendou's blurry gaze transferred to him, Ushijima nods in reply. And, softly, quietly, like one snowflake falling before a snowstorm, Tendou begins to cry.

Ushijima sits with him through it all. When the tears calm down, when Tendou's cheeks begin to dry, he's still there, hands holding him.

Solid.

“So,” Tendou gives a self-conscious smile when Ushijima catches a final, stray tear with his thumb. “You think I’m loving?”

Ushijima smiles, holding his gaze back.