#imataka

Takao’s overthinking this; Takao overthinks everything when it comes to Imayoshi—he’s used to making people nervous, but Takao’s talked his way out of trouble with his teachers and cheerfully ignored Midorima’s rebuttals when he extends the hand of friendship too many times for him to have a legitimate excuse for this. Imayoshi supposes he should be flattered, but it’s more of an inconvenience at this point, especially since he’s expressed interest in return.

Takao’s hands are slightly shaking as he places the coffee on the table; he took a seemingly correct guess on Imayoshi’s order. He takes a sip; it’s good—black with just the right amount of sugar. Takao’s trying to gauge his reaction; he can’t tell. Imayoshi smiles.

“Is it good?”

“Yes,” Imayoshi says.

He reaches over to cover Takao’s hand with his; Takao intertwines their fingers. Imayoshi hums.

“You don’t have to be so nervous; I don’t bite.”

“I know,” says Takao.

“Unless you want me to.”

Takao bites back a laugh. Imayoshi’s grin widens.

“Disgusting.”

“You’re the one who suggested it.”

Imayoshi shrugs. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Let me test that, then,” says Takao.