牛島 若利 Ushijima Wakatoshi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
leftwinger) wrote2021-04-01 09:11 pm
leftwinger) wrote2021-04-01 09:11 pm
Entry tags:
Open post [ACTION]
For action/prose. For epistolary and texts, there's another post for that.
For action/prose. For epistolary and texts, there's another post for that.
[In all honesty, the standard date ritual of dinner and a movie never struck Wakatoshi as ideal. It's not that he considered it uncivilized or beneath him, or that he couldn't find watching the latest comic book come to life on the big screen and a delicious plate of the latest food trend as part of an enjoyable evening. His preferences simply lay elsewhere. A night in, eating home-cooked food and watching a streaming rental was just as good if not better, in his eyes.
But it was an unwritten rule: a night in for a first date was just unacceptable. Every magazine and blog article and romance book had said as much. And if he wanted to make a lasting impression on Sakusa and make him believe that he was important to him, then Wakatoshi was going to have to put out all the stops to make it so.
First were the reservations to an exclusive restaurant, in Ginza of all places, and he had to call in a favor for that one. Everything that followed was relatively easier: after a haircut and fresh shave, he went and got himself an entirely new outfit consisting of a dark turtleneck, some tailored pants, new shoes, and new jacket. And, of course, an obnoxiously large bouquet of fresh roses.
It's not until he's waiting at the chosen rendezvous point -- in the park outside of the train station -- and several passersby have given him varying looks that he thinks that maybe, just maybe, the flowers might be a bit too much.
He thinks about texting Tendou about it, asking for his input but it's too late in Paris time. And just as he's thumbing through his phone's directory and considering maybe asking Semi or Reon, or even Shirabu, he feels a familiar presence approaching him in the park and looks up, mirth and relief shining in his eyes.]
Ah. Kiyoomi. Glad you could make it.
But it was an unwritten rule: a night in for a first date was just unacceptable. Every magazine and blog article and romance book had said as much. And if he wanted to make a lasting impression on Sakusa and make him believe that he was important to him, then Wakatoshi was going to have to put out all the stops to make it so.
First were the reservations to an exclusive restaurant, in Ginza of all places, and he had to call in a favor for that one. Everything that followed was relatively easier: after a haircut and fresh shave, he went and got himself an entirely new outfit consisting of a dark turtleneck, some tailored pants, new shoes, and new jacket. And, of course, an obnoxiously large bouquet of fresh roses.
It's not until he's waiting at the chosen rendezvous point -- in the park outside of the train station -- and several passersby have given him varying looks that he thinks that maybe, just maybe, the flowers might be a bit too much.
He thinks about texting Tendou about it, asking for his input but it's too late in Paris time. And just as he's thumbing through his phone's directory and considering maybe asking Semi or Reon, or even Shirabu, he feels a familiar presence approaching him in the park and looks up, mirth and relief shining in his eyes.]
Ah. Kiyoomi. Glad you could make it.
[As a type that generally avoids crowds and dislikes breeding germ breeding grounds, he makes it a point to remain home when he can. That he agreed to a date beyond the walls of his home was telling, even if Ushijima had no idea about it. A dinner date isn't exactly Sakusa's favorite (who knows who could be spitting in their food), but he wasn't about to refute Ushijima's offer. It's only a small part that didn't want to hurt Ushijima's feelings, a larger part knew that Ushijima wouldn't take offense if Sakusa said anything. No, the reason for Sakusa agreeing to this date is more calculated than that: this date has to be outside so that everybody can see they belong to each other. He doesn't need their validation, but it'd be nice if gossip magazines could stop prying into their romantic lives and suggesting that Sakusa is flirting with some up-and-coming model-actress or (worse) Atsumu.
And so, determined to make the best of this opportunity, Sakusa may have or may have not spent the better part of the day stressing over every little detail. He spends the better part of the day researching date night outfits and mixing and matching every single item of clothing in his closet, dismissing every ensemble. Most of his looks are too casual, and he doesn't want to wear the stuffy suit he wears to PR events, even if his intentions are a bit along the same lines. Eventually he settles on a black-on-black combination of his favorite button-up, a wool jacket, and cloth mask he only wears on special occasions. He even bothers to wear a belt and tie to make the outfit look more elevated, small details that he wouldn't pay any mind to if this were a date with anybody else. There's also a surprise beneath his shirt as Sakusa flattens his button-up and smirks to himself in front of the mirror, but Ushijima will just have to discover that later.
Sakusa had spent every second leading up to the date researching the Dos and Do Nots of dating, finding that most of the advice is vague, unhelpful, or doesn't apply to him, considering he and Ushijima are both men. That's why it's a bit of a shock when he arrives and instantly sees Ushijima sporting a dramatic bouquet of roses. It's exactly like the dating advice he read, both flattering and unnecessary. Sakusa winces as he approaches, shoulders squared as if braced for a fight. He's not the type that likes people noticing him and right now, everybody is staring. Suddenly he's having doubts in his plan. Can he really go through with this?]
Wakatoshi. You look nice.
[That part is true. If they weren't in public, Sakusa might tug him by the collar and climb into his lap, mind suddenly addled with crazy thoughts like cradling Ushijima's face in his hands and the desire to mess up that perfect coif. He's looking forward to peeling off every layer later, though he's extremely appreciative of the look in front of him.
But there's no ignoring the elephant in the room, and Sakusa turns his attention to the flowers with a squint. After a tense moment that's only suitable for stand offs, Sakusa accepts them gingerly. For the plan, of course. He holds them like a torch, making the flowers look more awkward than when Ushijima was holding them purposefully.]
Flowers again. [He looks at them, pinchfaced.] They're bigger than last time.
[He doesn't bother saying thanks, because really he's not sure if he's thankful for them. But he is thankful for Ushijima's effort, and that warrants reward. He tugs at Ushijima's sweater shyly before deciding to be bold. It lasts only a moment, pulling down his mask, pecking Ushijima on the cheek, and pulling his mask up again. Even if his intention is to make their relationship public, anybody watching might have missed it if they blinked.]
I can see you tried hard to please me. Let's go.
[As they make their way into the restaurant, Sakusa comes to the conclusion that he's used to being watched, but not like this. He doesn't really care about spectators when he plays volleyball anyway, too focused on himself, the ball, and the team on the other side of the net. The attention right now is entirely different, so Sakusa really has to push himself to relax, shoulders still stiff. Both to show off and seek refuse, he slips his free hand in the bent crook of Ushijima's arm, just barely leaning into him.
Whether Sakusa likes it or not, he's in the thick of it now. If he had it his way, it'd just be him and Wakatoshi. Nevertheless, he's trying his best since he can clearly tell Ushijima gave it his all. The restaurant is spotless and spread out, providing enough privacy to each table that Sakusa loosens up a bit. If he leans closer to Ushijima in the process, well there's no helping that.
They're discreetly ushered to their table, and the host is paid well enough not to make a comment on the clients or their flowers. Sakusa does the honors of holding out Ushijima's chair, carefully using a pocket hanky so he doesn't have to touch it directly, and then takes the seat across from Ushijima. Sakusa wouldn't choose to eat out, but if he has to, he could do a lot worse than this place. He wonders, for a moment, if it was difficult to find a place that would make Sakusa feel comfortable and appreciates Ushijima all the more for it. A quick glance at the menu and his eyebrows shoot up.]
This place is expensive. Places like this usually serve really small portions... Was it hard to get a reservation?
And so, determined to make the best of this opportunity, Sakusa may have or may have not spent the better part of the day stressing over every little detail. He spends the better part of the day researching date night outfits and mixing and matching every single item of clothing in his closet, dismissing every ensemble. Most of his looks are too casual, and he doesn't want to wear the stuffy suit he wears to PR events, even if his intentions are a bit along the same lines. Eventually he settles on a black-on-black combination of his favorite button-up, a wool jacket, and cloth mask he only wears on special occasions. He even bothers to wear a belt and tie to make the outfit look more elevated, small details that he wouldn't pay any mind to if this were a date with anybody else. There's also a surprise beneath his shirt as Sakusa flattens his button-up and smirks to himself in front of the mirror, but Ushijima will just have to discover that later.
Sakusa had spent every second leading up to the date researching the Dos and Do Nots of dating, finding that most of the advice is vague, unhelpful, or doesn't apply to him, considering he and Ushijima are both men. That's why it's a bit of a shock when he arrives and instantly sees Ushijima sporting a dramatic bouquet of roses. It's exactly like the dating advice he read, both flattering and unnecessary. Sakusa winces as he approaches, shoulders squared as if braced for a fight. He's not the type that likes people noticing him and right now, everybody is staring. Suddenly he's having doubts in his plan. Can he really go through with this?]
Wakatoshi. You look nice.
[That part is true. If they weren't in public, Sakusa might tug him by the collar and climb into his lap, mind suddenly addled with crazy thoughts like cradling Ushijima's face in his hands and the desire to mess up that perfect coif. He's looking forward to peeling off every layer later, though he's extremely appreciative of the look in front of him.
But there's no ignoring the elephant in the room, and Sakusa turns his attention to the flowers with a squint. After a tense moment that's only suitable for stand offs, Sakusa accepts them gingerly. For the plan, of course. He holds them like a torch, making the flowers look more awkward than when Ushijima was holding them purposefully.]
Flowers again. [He looks at them, pinchfaced.] They're bigger than last time.
[He doesn't bother saying thanks, because really he's not sure if he's thankful for them. But he is thankful for Ushijima's effort, and that warrants reward. He tugs at Ushijima's sweater shyly before deciding to be bold. It lasts only a moment, pulling down his mask, pecking Ushijima on the cheek, and pulling his mask up again. Even if his intention is to make their relationship public, anybody watching might have missed it if they blinked.]
I can see you tried hard to please me. Let's go.
[As they make their way into the restaurant, Sakusa comes to the conclusion that he's used to being watched, but not like this. He doesn't really care about spectators when he plays volleyball anyway, too focused on himself, the ball, and the team on the other side of the net. The attention right now is entirely different, so Sakusa really has to push himself to relax, shoulders still stiff. Both to show off and seek refuse, he slips his free hand in the bent crook of Ushijima's arm, just barely leaning into him.
Whether Sakusa likes it or not, he's in the thick of it now. If he had it his way, it'd just be him and Wakatoshi. Nevertheless, he's trying his best since he can clearly tell Ushijima gave it his all. The restaurant is spotless and spread out, providing enough privacy to each table that Sakusa loosens up a bit. If he leans closer to Ushijima in the process, well there's no helping that.
They're discreetly ushered to their table, and the host is paid well enough not to make a comment on the clients or their flowers. Sakusa does the honors of holding out Ushijima's chair, carefully using a pocket hanky so he doesn't have to touch it directly, and then takes the seat across from Ushijima. Sakusa wouldn't choose to eat out, but if he has to, he could do a lot worse than this place. He wonders, for a moment, if it was difficult to find a place that would make Sakusa feel comfortable and appreciates Ushijima all the more for it. A quick glance at the menu and his eyebrows shoot up.]
This place is expensive. Places like this usually serve really small portions... Was it hard to get a reservation?
Thank you for coming, Kiyoomi. You look very handsome.
[Which is true. Of course, Sakusa could have shown up in a burlap sack and still look stunning, but there's something to be said about his silhouette and the way the tie and belt complete the look for him. They're bound to turn some heads, if Sakusa hasn't done that already. Wakatoshi feels warm and tight all over, and for the brief moment Sakusa's lips meet his cheek, he considers dragging them both back to his apartment.
But they're out here now, and they've put forth all this effort thus far, they may as well see it out to the end.
He blinks as Sakusa takes the flowers and holds them awkwardly.]
You can throw them away if you do not want them. I would not be offended.
[It's true. He was simply following yet another unwritten rule stating to present a classic gift that lined up well with something he appreciated: his own for gardening and plants; he saw it as no different than Tendou buying someone a box of chocolates. Alas. It's a lesson learned -- as many similarities as they share, there will always be something that they won't see eye to eye on. He makes a mental note to avoid flowers at all costs from now on.
Undeterred by the slip-up with the flowers and unbothered by the stares others give them as they link up arms, he leads them to the restaurant. It's located in one of the swankier parts of Ginza, already a ritzy district of Tokyo. During his search, Wakatoshi soon learned the more exclusive a restaurant was, the less likely it was to be crowded and filthy, two traits he wanted to avoid at all costs. That the press (legitimate or not) was not going to be hounding the two athletes or sneaking candid photographs of them was a bonus.
Once their coats are checked in by some apple-cheeked young man that lets his gaze linger on Sakusa for longer than Wakatoshi deems necessary and they're seated, Wakatoshi's finally able to relax. A little. His thoughts keep focusing on the man sitting across from him, even when they're presented with the menus.]
A friend helped me secure the reservations. It wasn't too difficult.
[His expression softens, voice lowering to match--]
Do you not like it? We can go somewhere else, if you want...
[Which is true. Of course, Sakusa could have shown up in a burlap sack and still look stunning, but there's something to be said about his silhouette and the way the tie and belt complete the look for him. They're bound to turn some heads, if Sakusa hasn't done that already. Wakatoshi feels warm and tight all over, and for the brief moment Sakusa's lips meet his cheek, he considers dragging them both back to his apartment.
But they're out here now, and they've put forth all this effort thus far, they may as well see it out to the end.
He blinks as Sakusa takes the flowers and holds them awkwardly.]
You can throw them away if you do not want them. I would not be offended.
[It's true. He was simply following yet another unwritten rule stating to present a classic gift that lined up well with something he appreciated: his own for gardening and plants; he saw it as no different than Tendou buying someone a box of chocolates. Alas. It's a lesson learned -- as many similarities as they share, there will always be something that they won't see eye to eye on. He makes a mental note to avoid flowers at all costs from now on.
Undeterred by the slip-up with the flowers and unbothered by the stares others give them as they link up arms, he leads them to the restaurant. It's located in one of the swankier parts of Ginza, already a ritzy district of Tokyo. During his search, Wakatoshi soon learned the more exclusive a restaurant was, the less likely it was to be crowded and filthy, two traits he wanted to avoid at all costs. That the press (legitimate or not) was not going to be hounding the two athletes or sneaking candid photographs of them was a bonus.
Once their coats are checked in by some apple-cheeked young man that lets his gaze linger on Sakusa for longer than Wakatoshi deems necessary and they're seated, Wakatoshi's finally able to relax. A little. His thoughts keep focusing on the man sitting across from him, even when they're presented with the menus.]
A friend helped me secure the reservations. It wasn't too difficult.
[His expression softens, voice lowering to match--]
Do you not like it? We can go somewhere else, if you want...
[Sakusa might not care for the flowers, but he glares at the suggestion of throwing them out, shielding the petals as thought expecting an attempt on their life. Liked or not, these are a precious gift from his boyfriend. Even if they haven't used that particular term yet.]
They're mine now. If I didn't want them, then they'd be in the trash already.
[Above all else, Sakusa appreciates effort. A large bouquet, an exclusive restaurant, no price pulled.... He's feeling quite spoiled now. It's not a far cry from reaping a harvest that was lovingly sowed.]
Huh? Of course not. Why would we go anywhere else? This place is perfect.
[Saying it's perfect when he complained about it just a second ago? Yeah, it's a regular occurrence. In any case, Sakusa has a checklist for when he eats out, and this restaurant ticks all the boxes. He unmasks in demonstration, neatly folding it and placing it inside a pocket. He could blame the ambient music that's floating behind them or the intimate candlelight, but really it's just pure desire that drives him reaching a hand across the table and resting it over Ushijima's.]
I like being here with you. I like that you dressed up, and I even like your obnoxious flowers. It must have been embarrassing standing around waiting with them, but you still did it for me. [Glancing at the bouquet that was given its own seat to accommodate its girth, a slight smile thins out his grimace. It's replaced by something fond and soft, the same look reserved only for Ushijima.] You brought me flowers the first time too, so it's starting to feel like a tradition... Of all things, flowers... [But then, a warning tone and squeeze:] Not so big next time.
They're mine now. If I didn't want them, then they'd be in the trash already.
[Above all else, Sakusa appreciates effort. A large bouquet, an exclusive restaurant, no price pulled.... He's feeling quite spoiled now. It's not a far cry from reaping a harvest that was lovingly sowed.]
Huh? Of course not. Why would we go anywhere else? This place is perfect.
[Saying it's perfect when he complained about it just a second ago? Yeah, it's a regular occurrence. In any case, Sakusa has a checklist for when he eats out, and this restaurant ticks all the boxes. He unmasks in demonstration, neatly folding it and placing it inside a pocket. He could blame the ambient music that's floating behind them or the intimate candlelight, but really it's just pure desire that drives him reaching a hand across the table and resting it over Ushijima's.]
I like being here with you. I like that you dressed up, and I even like your obnoxious flowers. It must have been embarrassing standing around waiting with them, but you still did it for me. [Glancing at the bouquet that was given its own seat to accommodate its girth, a slight smile thins out his grimace. It's replaced by something fond and soft, the same look reserved only for Ushijima.] You brought me flowers the first time too, so it's starting to feel like a tradition... Of all things, flowers... [But then, a warning tone and squeeze:] Not so big next time.
[At hearing the word perfect and seeing Sakusa remove the mask in a gesture that he could only interpret as symbolic, Wakatoshi straightens, the burden of a weight lifted from his chest.
He returns Sakusa's smile with one of his own, just as warm and endeared, only slightly wider.]
I wasn't embarrassed at all. While I was waiting, I wasn't thinking of anything or anyone but you.
[His olive gaze flickers over to the bouquet on the chair. They are rather large and obnoxious now that he's had time to consider them. At the time of purchase, they were just large and beautiful flowers, a fitting representation of his thoughts and feelings for their recipient.
A slight chuckle escapes him and he nods.]
Not so big next time. Right.
[He pretends to skim over his menu yet again, though he does shoot Sakusa a quick look over the top rim of it. Just sneaky enough.]
Tendou would be saying, "that's what he said," right about now...
He returns Sakusa's smile with one of his own, just as warm and endeared, only slightly wider.]
I wasn't embarrassed at all. While I was waiting, I wasn't thinking of anything or anyone but you.
[His olive gaze flickers over to the bouquet on the chair. They are rather large and obnoxious now that he's had time to consider them. At the time of purchase, they were just large and beautiful flowers, a fitting representation of his thoughts and feelings for their recipient.
A slight chuckle escapes him and he nods.]
Not so big next time. Right.
[He pretends to skim over his menu yet again, though he does shoot Sakusa a quick look over the top rim of it. Just sneaky enough.]
Tendou would be saying, "that's what he said," right about now...
...Yeah? What were you thinking about me, then?
[Without his mask, Sakusa's defenseless against Ushijima's picture perfect smile radiating love within a two meter diameter. There's a wary but demure smile on his lips, a just barely there smile, that he immediately hides behind a menu; Ushijima's seen it a million times by now, but Sakusa always feels so vulnerable being seen like this. His blush creeps over the edge just as it would his mask, flustered by both Ushijima confessing his feelings so easily and Sakusa asking about his thoughts with all the innocence of a schoolboy.
It's after Sakusa announces what red wine he wants to order and while he's eyeing the appetizers when Ushijima makes a joke. Sakusa's eyes dart up, going wide and dark at the same time. He places the menu aside this time, smirk curling onto his face.]
I think you know me better than that, Wakatoshi. That is not what I would be saying.
[His knee knocks into Ushijima's beneath the table.] Although, if that's what you're trying to tell me with your flowers...shouldn't the bouquet be bigger?
[Without his mask, Sakusa's defenseless against Ushijima's picture perfect smile radiating love within a two meter diameter. There's a wary but demure smile on his lips, a just barely there smile, that he immediately hides behind a menu; Ushijima's seen it a million times by now, but Sakusa always feels so vulnerable being seen like this. His blush creeps over the edge just as it would his mask, flustered by both Ushijima confessing his feelings so easily and Sakusa asking about his thoughts with all the innocence of a schoolboy.
It's after Sakusa announces what red wine he wants to order and while he's eyeing the appetizers when Ushijima makes a joke. Sakusa's eyes dart up, going wide and dark at the same time. He places the menu aside this time, smirk curling onto his face.]
I think you know me better than that, Wakatoshi. That is not what I would be saying.
[His knee knocks into Ushijima's beneath the table.] Although, if that's what you're trying to tell me with your flowers...shouldn't the bouquet be bigger?
[It warms his heart seeing the normally cool and stony Sakusa behaving so coy and vulnerable, asking him about his thoughts, smiling at him however slightly... There's a small lantern in the center of their table, the glow of it bouncing off the high points of Sakusa's cheeks, nose, and lips. Like his smiles, these parts are usually hidden from the rest of the world. And they're so so beautiful...
Wakatoshi realizes, truly, just how lucky he is that he's able to see him so freely now.
He lowers the menu, gazing at his...boyfriend? Partner? Lover? Gazing at Sakusa head-on, no obstructions, no nets, nothing in the way.]
I was thinking...about how perfect I want tonight to be for you.
[And also the silly joke he'd launched his way. Aww. Tendou would have been proud of his comedic timing. And of Sakusa's too. Even Wakatoshi can't fight back the slight snicker.]
...you said it, not me.
[There's no way Sakusa, with his careful and meaningful ways, did not bump their knees by mistake. Wakatoshi pauses to consider it, then taps his foot, ever so lightly, against Sakusa's ankle.]
Wakatoshi realizes, truly, just how lucky he is that he's able to see him so freely now.
He lowers the menu, gazing at his...boyfriend? Partner? Lover? Gazing at Sakusa head-on, no obstructions, no nets, nothing in the way.]
I was thinking...about how perfect I want tonight to be for you.
[And also the silly joke he'd launched his way. Aww. Tendou would have been proud of his comedic timing. And of Sakusa's too. Even Wakatoshi can't fight back the slight snicker.]
...you said it, not me.
[There's no way Sakusa, with his careful and meaningful ways, did not bump their knees by mistake. Wakatoshi pauses to consider it, then taps his foot, ever so lightly, against Sakusa's ankle.]
You don't have to be modest. We both know it's true.
[What's polite dinner conversation?
Sakusa's eyebrows shoot up when Ushijima's foot pushes back, light as it is. Most people wouldn't expect Ushijima to be the playful, flirty type, but that just makes it all the more satisfying to Sakusa. There's something special about being the only one in the world to be on the receiving end of his teasing and kisses. Maybe it's a little juvenile, but Sakusa smirks back and nudges Ushijima's foot, this time more firmly and for longer.
The more Sakusa thinks about, the tighter his chest feels. Here Ushijima is, flirting with him in this amazing place that's tailored to Sakusa's taste. How could Ushijima doubt that this was anything less than perfect? It'd be easier to look away and blush when confronted by his feelings, but Sakusa keeps his eyes trained on Ushijima, his face completely revealed as the blush sprawls upward and outward. The tips of his ears burn redder than his lips, and he knows it, baring a rare display of a fully flushed face to his date.]
You know, you don't need all of this to make me happy. As long as it's clean, executed to the best of your ability, and you are by my side, then it will be perfect to me. So if that's your goal, you've accomplished it already.
[Because Ushijima was. Perfect. He's gone above and beyond for Sakusa tonight, and he even orders for the both of them so Sakusa doesn't have to talk with the server when it comes time to order. It makes Sakusa's heart squeeze and his hands restless to spike a ball as hard as he can. He inspects both of their plates and silverware sets, and when he's satisfied that they're free of smudges, takes to twisting one of his wrists back and forth anxiously. He waits until the waiter's gone to speak again.]
I'll admit, it's a lot. Nobody else has put in such effort just to please me... I keep wondering what's in it for you. Wouldn't it be more fun to date somebody cheerful and cute than somebody who is so particular?
[It's not insecurity talking; it's just fact. Sakusa isn't an idiot: he knows he's difficult to please, and very few are willing to put in the effort it takes to make Sakusa comfortable, let alone happy. He's what they call high maintenance, just a different brand of high maintenance than the usual stock. And he's not the usual brand of boyfriend material. He won't repay Ushijima back in tagged selfies with cute filters on social media, or romance Ushijima with kisses in the rain or dancing on the beach.
The attention to detail and care that Ushijima's invested in the evening is an entirely new experience; he's thankful, for certain, but unsure how to respond to all this affection. He certainly can't proceed like he normally would, with only his own interests at heart and not giving a care to what anybody else might think. His smile fades back into a contemplative grimace.]
For the first time, I care what somebody thinks of me. It's not a feeling I like.
[What's polite dinner conversation?
Sakusa's eyebrows shoot up when Ushijima's foot pushes back, light as it is. Most people wouldn't expect Ushijima to be the playful, flirty type, but that just makes it all the more satisfying to Sakusa. There's something special about being the only one in the world to be on the receiving end of his teasing and kisses. Maybe it's a little juvenile, but Sakusa smirks back and nudges Ushijima's foot, this time more firmly and for longer.
The more Sakusa thinks about, the tighter his chest feels. Here Ushijima is, flirting with him in this amazing place that's tailored to Sakusa's taste. How could Ushijima doubt that this was anything less than perfect? It'd be easier to look away and blush when confronted by his feelings, but Sakusa keeps his eyes trained on Ushijima, his face completely revealed as the blush sprawls upward and outward. The tips of his ears burn redder than his lips, and he knows it, baring a rare display of a fully flushed face to his date.]
You know, you don't need all of this to make me happy. As long as it's clean, executed to the best of your ability, and you are by my side, then it will be perfect to me. So if that's your goal, you've accomplished it already.
[Because Ushijima was. Perfect. He's gone above and beyond for Sakusa tonight, and he even orders for the both of them so Sakusa doesn't have to talk with the server when it comes time to order. It makes Sakusa's heart squeeze and his hands restless to spike a ball as hard as he can. He inspects both of their plates and silverware sets, and when he's satisfied that they're free of smudges, takes to twisting one of his wrists back and forth anxiously. He waits until the waiter's gone to speak again.]
I'll admit, it's a lot. Nobody else has put in such effort just to please me... I keep wondering what's in it for you. Wouldn't it be more fun to date somebody cheerful and cute than somebody who is so particular?
[It's not insecurity talking; it's just fact. Sakusa isn't an idiot: he knows he's difficult to please, and very few are willing to put in the effort it takes to make Sakusa comfortable, let alone happy. He's what they call high maintenance, just a different brand of high maintenance than the usual stock. And he's not the usual brand of boyfriend material. He won't repay Ushijima back in tagged selfies with cute filters on social media, or romance Ushijima with kisses in the rain or dancing on the beach.
The attention to detail and care that Ushijima's invested in the evening is an entirely new experience; he's thankful, for certain, but unsure how to respond to all this affection. He certainly can't proceed like he normally would, with only his own interests at heart and not giving a care to what anybody else might think. His smile fades back into a contemplative grimace.]
For the first time, I care what somebody thinks of me. It's not a feeling I like.
[Playing footsie in a restaurant that most could only dream of visiting while dressed to the nines and exchanging fond looks and meaningful glances with a longtime friend-slash-rival turned lover...it's certainly not something Wakatoshi ever predicted for himself, let alone expected to enjoy. He's not the type to start looking a gift horse in the mouth, so he takes it for what it is, pats his foot against Sakusa's as he smoothly orders their meal for them based on recommendations, what Sakusa has said he likes and dislikes over the years, and his own online research.
But when Sakusa, brimming with an almost tangible anxiety that Wakatoshi can feel from his side of the table, begins to fidget and talk in that blunt and certain way of his, Wakatoshi finds himself lowering his foot and breathing a little deeper and slower. Expectant, although unsure of what to expect.
Ah, he thinks he understands now. Treading new territory.]
Kiyoomi...
[With nowhere to go, and nothing to hold onto, his large hands lay flat on the wrinkle-free and spotless tablecloth, his gaze soon following.]
My parents dated and married because it was what was expected of them. My father, the kind and cheerful athlete, and my mother, the stern and traditional housewife. They...did not have a lot in common. They eventually divorced. Even despite this, I was always held to the expectations of others. What an ace should be like, what a team should do for its ace, what a relationship should be like...
[Jaw tightening, he shakes his head and forces himself to relax with a sigh.]
I've tried being with someone that was expressive and cute. I suppose you could call them mercurial. It did not work out between us.
[That's putting it lightly. It was disastrous. Perhaps doomed from the start depending on who was asked; and considering they wanted different things the other could not readily provide, or just different people in general, Wakatoshi, in hindsight, would agree.
It was a learning experience and since then, Wakatoshi knew it was best for his sake to go for what he wanted versus what other people expected him.
He lifts his gaze back onto Sakusa.]
I've since learned what I want. Someone who understands I do things at a different pace, and that I might not always understand the latest trends or craze and that I might prefer a quiet night in and that sometimes I would rather fill space with comfortable silence because I don't always have something to say.
You're that person for me, Kiyoomi. I don't have any expectations of you. But I also won't pretend to know what it is that you need or want. I only know I will do everything I can to give it to you. But I also understand if it might be overwhelming or uncomfortable for you...
[He reaches a hand over across the table, fingertips coming to a rest on the inside of Sakusa's wrist, as he remembers they're about to eat and Sakusa has already washed his hands.]
...I can stop or slow down, if you want me to.
But when Sakusa, brimming with an almost tangible anxiety that Wakatoshi can feel from his side of the table, begins to fidget and talk in that blunt and certain way of his, Wakatoshi finds himself lowering his foot and breathing a little deeper and slower. Expectant, although unsure of what to expect.
Ah, he thinks he understands now. Treading new territory.]
Kiyoomi...
[With nowhere to go, and nothing to hold onto, his large hands lay flat on the wrinkle-free and spotless tablecloth, his gaze soon following.]
My parents dated and married because it was what was expected of them. My father, the kind and cheerful athlete, and my mother, the stern and traditional housewife. They...did not have a lot in common. They eventually divorced. Even despite this, I was always held to the expectations of others. What an ace should be like, what a team should do for its ace, what a relationship should be like...
[Jaw tightening, he shakes his head and forces himself to relax with a sigh.]
I've tried being with someone that was expressive and cute. I suppose you could call them mercurial. It did not work out between us.
[That's putting it lightly. It was disastrous. Perhaps doomed from the start depending on who was asked; and considering they wanted different things the other could not readily provide, or just different people in general, Wakatoshi, in hindsight, would agree.
It was a learning experience and since then, Wakatoshi knew it was best for his sake to go for what he wanted versus what other people expected him.
He lifts his gaze back onto Sakusa.]
I've since learned what I want. Someone who understands I do things at a different pace, and that I might not always understand the latest trends or craze and that I might prefer a quiet night in and that sometimes I would rather fill space with comfortable silence because I don't always have something to say.
You're that person for me, Kiyoomi. I don't have any expectations of you. But I also won't pretend to know what it is that you need or want. I only know I will do everything I can to give it to you. But I also understand if it might be overwhelming or uncomfortable for you...
[He reaches a hand over across the table, fingertips coming to a rest on the inside of Sakusa's wrist, as he remembers they're about to eat and Sakusa has already washed his hands.]
...I can stop or slow down, if you want me to.
[Sakusa's not the type to nod or smile during conversation, but he listens carefully and comes to better understanding with each example. Despite how long they've known each other, these are things he didn't know about Ushijima.
He catches onto the gist fairly quickly, coming from a similar mindset himself. Living up to others' expectations never ends well, especially when those expectations overlook the particularities of a relationship. Applied to them, Sakusa suspects the point is that their similarities and commitment to each other is more important than living up to any notion of a typical romance. Although Sakusa puts little to no investment in anybody's expectations except for his own, he feels closer to the other man, more than anything, after hearing that he feels the same, especially in his vision of a happily quiet partnership. Sakusa catches onto one detail and treasures it with a smile after Ushijima says it: Ushijima doesn't understand trends, and Sakusa doesn't care for them altogether. They're perfect for each other.]
Rather than slowing down, I want to take the next step forward with you. I see why you would choose somebody like me now. We have a much more favorable foundation for a relationship than your parents or your previous relationship. For me, there's nobody in my heart except for you, and I don't think there ever will be, even if we put an end to this.
That said... I won't lie to you. I have expectations. You claim to care for me, and I believe you. And so, I expect you to prove that to me every day. I expect you to never break my heart. I expect you to work beside me when things go wrong, and not give up on us. I expect you to give me nothing less than your best effort to make this relationship work.
So long as we can agree on these terms, I am confident in our resolve to each other. Of course, these expectations are ones I expect of myself as well.
[No "I'm sorry to hear that"s or "That's unfortunate"s or even a "Is that okay?". Ushijima says he wants Sakusa, and this is who he is, down to the demanding and intense bits that tend to put off everybody else. He looks at where they're joined by the wrist and then up to Ushijima, curling his wrist over Ushijima's hand. Flexible wrists, after all. If sharing germs isn't a love language, Sakusa doesn't know what is.]
He catches onto the gist fairly quickly, coming from a similar mindset himself. Living up to others' expectations never ends well, especially when those expectations overlook the particularities of a relationship. Applied to them, Sakusa suspects the point is that their similarities and commitment to each other is more important than living up to any notion of a typical romance. Although Sakusa puts little to no investment in anybody's expectations except for his own, he feels closer to the other man, more than anything, after hearing that he feels the same, especially in his vision of a happily quiet partnership. Sakusa catches onto one detail and treasures it with a smile after Ushijima says it: Ushijima doesn't understand trends, and Sakusa doesn't care for them altogether. They're perfect for each other.]
Rather than slowing down, I want to take the next step forward with you. I see why you would choose somebody like me now. We have a much more favorable foundation for a relationship than your parents or your previous relationship. For me, there's nobody in my heart except for you, and I don't think there ever will be, even if we put an end to this.
That said... I won't lie to you. I have expectations. You claim to care for me, and I believe you. And so, I expect you to prove that to me every day. I expect you to never break my heart. I expect you to work beside me when things go wrong, and not give up on us. I expect you to give me nothing less than your best effort to make this relationship work.
So long as we can agree on these terms, I am confident in our resolve to each other. Of course, these expectations are ones I expect of myself as well.
[No "I'm sorry to hear that"s or "That's unfortunate"s or even a "Is that okay?". Ushijima says he wants Sakusa, and this is who he is, down to the demanding and intense bits that tend to put off everybody else. He looks at where they're joined by the wrist and then up to Ushijima, curling his wrist over Ushijima's hand. Flexible wrists, after all. If sharing germs isn't a love language, Sakusa doesn't know what is.]
[For the near-decade or so that Wakatoshi has known him, Sakusa has always been strong-minded. Once he's made his decision about anything, nothing could deter him. He's always appreciated that about him. After dating someone that only seemed to want to please him, and another one who couldn't decide if he loved or hated Wakatoshi (or, hell, if he had lingering feelings for someone else), that sort of honesty and confidence was a strong breath of fresh air.
Sakusa twists his flexible wrists and their hands now touch, and Wakatoshi can't help the smile stretching across his lips.]
I'm relieved to hear you say those words, Kiyoomi. I appreciate your honesty, more than you could possibly know, and I agree to those terms.
[Those terms went without saying. Wakatoshi had every intention of loving and protecting Sakusa, even through the good and bad. Anyone else, and those same words would sound like some sort of verbal contract between business partners or the fine print on a miai pamphlet. His own mother probably sounded like that when she and his father were first courting, though Wakatoshi's confident that the love he feels for the man sitting across him far exceeds theirs.
No offense, mother.
He's stroking his thumb fondly over the web of skin between Sakusa's thumb and forefinger, doesn't withdraw it even as the waiter comes by with their appetizer salads: crisp and fresh greens, dressings on the side of course. He barely regards the waiter as the plates are set up and the employee, getting the hint from Wakatoshi's brusque wave-off when asked for refills, whisks himself away to get the rest of their order.]
So, this means we're official then. I'll take care of you. I promise.
Sakusa twists his flexible wrists and their hands now touch, and Wakatoshi can't help the smile stretching across his lips.]
I'm relieved to hear you say those words, Kiyoomi. I appreciate your honesty, more than you could possibly know, and I agree to those terms.
[Those terms went without saying. Wakatoshi had every intention of loving and protecting Sakusa, even through the good and bad. Anyone else, and those same words would sound like some sort of verbal contract between business partners or the fine print on a miai pamphlet. His own mother probably sounded like that when she and his father were first courting, though Wakatoshi's confident that the love he feels for the man sitting across him far exceeds theirs.
No offense, mother.
He's stroking his thumb fondly over the web of skin between Sakusa's thumb and forefinger, doesn't withdraw it even as the waiter comes by with their appetizer salads: crisp and fresh greens, dressings on the side of course. He barely regards the waiter as the plates are set up and the employee, getting the hint from Wakatoshi's brusque wave-off when asked for refills, whisks himself away to get the rest of their order.]
So, this means we're official then. I'll take care of you. I promise.
[Sakusa can normally accept when things don't go his way as long as he's done his best, but any other answer in this situation would have genuinely hurt him. The moment Ushijima agrees to his terms, he lets out a held breath, his fingertips twitch, and his former smile is revived. This is to say, he's pleased by Ushijima's response. Sakusa nods in outward demonstration of his feeling. Even the way Ushijima waves off the waiter makes Sakusa fall a little deeper in love with him.]
As will I. I promise.
...Now that that's settled, I need to know. Who did you date? How many have you dated? Do I know them? What attracted you to them? Why did you break up?
[Sakusa could go on, but he forces himself to stop. An ex of Ushijima's is a threat, and that means Sakusa needs to know everything about the circumstances. Sakusa's as thorough in his questioning about his romantic rival, which he'd only formerly done with volleyball. Ushijima was already on his list of things he'd see through, but now he assumes the entitlement to ask.
It's probably a welcome relief when the waiter comes back with their appetizer bread and charcuterie board, though Sakusa's hand keeps Ushijima's wrist pinned right where it is.]
As will I. I promise.
...Now that that's settled, I need to know. Who did you date? How many have you dated? Do I know them? What attracted you to them? Why did you break up?
[Sakusa could go on, but he forces himself to stop. An ex of Ushijima's is a threat, and that means Sakusa needs to know everything about the circumstances. Sakusa's as thorough in his questioning about his romantic rival, which he'd only formerly done with volleyball. Ushijima was already on his list of things he'd see through, but now he assumes the entitlement to ask.
It's probably a welcome relief when the waiter comes back with their appetizer bread and charcuterie board, though Sakusa's hand keeps Ushijima's wrist pinned right where it is.]
[Oh.
Right. Sakusa's always been a bit thorough with his research, hasn't he? Of course, this isn't research about a rival or opponent in volleyball so much as he's likely just trying to find out more about the people Wakatoshi's been with. It's normal to want to know about your lover's ex, one of those article had boasted, and if your foundation of a relationship is strong enough, then divulging such details shouldn't be a problem.
(Wakatoshi can't remember which magazine had said that, though. It was likely a men's magazine, though...)
He thinks it over a moment, then shrugs and responds, naturally--]
I haven't dated many people. They were mostly brief dalliances, really. I don't think you know of them aside from the captain of Niiyama Girls' volleyball team; that was mostly experimental for the both of us. And Shirabu Kenjirou, who played setter for Shiratorizawa for two years.
But the most serious one, for me, was --
[And by that point, the waiter, and his impeccable timing, returns to their table with the other fancy fixins, and takes his sweet time setting it up, too. Wakatoshi isn't as short with him as before, but that isn't to say he even spares the guy a customary glance when he's asked, yet again, if he needs anything else.]
...as I was saying. I...am not sure if he will agree with me in calling it a relationship, but I did have something with Oikawa Tooru, a volleyball player I've known for quite some time. I don't know if you know of him, he plays in Argentina now...
[Now that he thinks about it, Wakatoshi may have been heard talking about that particular setter. Not directly to Sakusa, as Wakatoshi didn't talk much about Miyagi or other particular players during his conversations with him over the years. And since Oikawa's team never made it to Nationals because of Wakatoshi, he never saw the point. But word may have gotten around...]
Right. Sakusa's always been a bit thorough with his research, hasn't he? Of course, this isn't research about a rival or opponent in volleyball so much as he's likely just trying to find out more about the people Wakatoshi's been with. It's normal to want to know about your lover's ex, one of those article had boasted, and if your foundation of a relationship is strong enough, then divulging such details shouldn't be a problem.
(Wakatoshi can't remember which magazine had said that, though. It was likely a men's magazine, though...)
He thinks it over a moment, then shrugs and responds, naturally--]
I haven't dated many people. They were mostly brief dalliances, really. I don't think you know of them aside from the captain of Niiyama Girls' volleyball team; that was mostly experimental for the both of us. And Shirabu Kenjirou, who played setter for Shiratorizawa for two years.
But the most serious one, for me, was --
[And by that point, the waiter, and his impeccable timing, returns to their table with the other fancy fixins, and takes his sweet time setting it up, too. Wakatoshi isn't as short with him as before, but that isn't to say he even spares the guy a customary glance when he's asked, yet again, if he needs anything else.]
...as I was saying. I...am not sure if he will agree with me in calling it a relationship, but I did have something with Oikawa Tooru, a volleyball player I've known for quite some time. I don't know if you know of him, he plays in Argentina now...
[Now that he thinks about it, Wakatoshi may have been heard talking about that particular setter. Not directly to Sakusa, as Wakatoshi didn't talk much about Miyagi or other particular players during his conversations with him over the years. And since Oikawa's team never made it to Nationals because of Wakatoshi, he never saw the point. But word may have gotten around...]
[Oh, Ushijima. Expecting Sakusa to be reasonable about this. Sakusa cocks his head while listening this time, his brows the most expression feature on his face. They raise when he hears about the Niiyama Girls' captain and furrow remembering Shirabu and how casual he'd been with Ushijima during first year at Nationals. These two, Sakusa can accept. It's that final one, Ushijima's most important ex, that makes finally Sakusa sneer over the table. This time Sakusa snaps a, "Hurry up. We're talking," at the unfortunate waiter assigned to them.
Once alone again, Sakusa listens patiently, albeit with an expression growing in dissatisfaction. Oikawa Tooru. He'd never met the man himself, and his only reference was an article in Volleyball magazine only a few years ago. Next to a glossy column boasting of a Japanese setter's accomplishments abroad was a picture of a man with a dazzling smile and perfectly coifed hair. Sakusa would be lying if he said he couldn't understand if it was just a physical thing. But between the tone Ushijima used back then and how he says his name now, Sakusa suspicion that things were more complicated than that is implicitly confirmed.]
I've heard of him. Our teams never played. [It's a jab. A small one, but a jab nonetheless.]
The Niiyama Girls' captain and Shiratorizawa's setter, I can understand...
[They were, in Sakusa's opinion, strong and therefore worthy. But this...nobody? Was Ushijima's ex? And the way Ushijima talked about him, Sakusa can't help but think Ushijima was the more invested partner.
Sakusa has a million questions and more still formulating, but the biggest one is:] You said you had "something" with him. Define "something."
Once alone again, Sakusa listens patiently, albeit with an expression growing in dissatisfaction. Oikawa Tooru. He'd never met the man himself, and his only reference was an article in Volleyball magazine only a few years ago. Next to a glossy column boasting of a Japanese setter's accomplishments abroad was a picture of a man with a dazzling smile and perfectly coifed hair. Sakusa would be lying if he said he couldn't understand if it was just a physical thing. But between the tone Ushijima used back then and how he says his name now, Sakusa suspicion that things were more complicated than that is implicitly confirmed.]
I've heard of him. Our teams never played. [It's a jab. A small one, but a jab nonetheless.]
The Niiyama Girls' captain and Shiratorizawa's setter, I can understand...
[They were, in Sakusa's opinion, strong and therefore worthy. But this...nobody? Was Ushijima's ex? And the way Ushijima talked about him, Sakusa can't help but think Ushijima was the more invested partner.
Sakusa has a million questions and more still formulating, but the biggest one is:] You said you had "something" with him. Define "something."
[That poor waiter. Wakatoshi offers him nothing in the way of sympathy, not even a wince or a murmured apology. He'll give him a healthy tip later. Not because he's guilty or anything -- it's just nice manners he's picked up from overseas travel.
His own expression remains neutral despite Sakusa's own obvious exasperation. Alright, so maybe that men's magazine article was not entirely accurate.]
Right, both his junior high and high school teams never made it to Nationals. Despite being hailed as the best setter in Miyagi prefecture, his teams have always lost to Shiratorizawa.
[He's not bragging -- just merely stating fact. Somewhere, in San Juan, Argentina, a Japanese ex-pat is having a sneezing fit. And it's not going to get any better.
Wakatoshi pauses for a moment to consider his next few words.]
...and because of Oikawa's skills of a setter, I had always thought he was better-suited for Shiratorizawa. He resented me for his losses and for what I've said to him about his team over the years, though I had never said anything with malicious intent. I suppose it wouldn't have mattered if I did or did not.
During the end of our third year of high school, he and I...started to see each other. For him, it was strictly physical. And in secret. I did not see the relationship in the same light. But I always did suspect he was in love with someone else. Not that it mattered, because after graduation, we went our separate ways and have not seen or spoken to each other since.
His own expression remains neutral despite Sakusa's own obvious exasperation. Alright, so maybe that men's magazine article was not entirely accurate.]
Right, both his junior high and high school teams never made it to Nationals. Despite being hailed as the best setter in Miyagi prefecture, his teams have always lost to Shiratorizawa.
[He's not bragging -- just merely stating fact. Somewhere, in San Juan, Argentina, a Japanese ex-pat is having a sneezing fit. And it's not going to get any better.
Wakatoshi pauses for a moment to consider his next few words.]
...and because of Oikawa's skills of a setter, I had always thought he was better-suited for Shiratorizawa. He resented me for his losses and for what I've said to him about his team over the years, though I had never said anything with malicious intent. I suppose it wouldn't have mattered if I did or did not.
During the end of our third year of high school, he and I...started to see each other. For him, it was strictly physical. And in secret. I did not see the relationship in the same light. But I always did suspect he was in love with someone else. Not that it mattered, because after graduation, we went our separate ways and have not seen or spoken to each other since.
If he was that good, then he should have listened to you and gone to Shiratorizawa.
[Not to parrot Ushijima's own thoughts, but it just makes sense that way. Sakusa's not a fan of things that don't make sense. He's also not a fan of Oikawa. His eyebrows twitch again, toward the later part, as he begins to fill in the blanks. Sakusa has a running timeline in his head and it's filled with his own experiences, facts about other players, and, now, Ushijima's romantic life. As that missing year of Sakusa's second year and Ushijima's last is filled in, Sakusa can't help but scowl. Not only hadn't Itachiyama played against Shiratorizawa at Nationals, but now he knows Ushijima had been spending that time tangled up in...Oikawa.
There's no regret. No sense of something missing. No second guessing what happened or how it happened.
Feeling like that are pointless, and Sakusa knows it. In the first place, it's not like he asked just to cause trouble. All he'd wanted is understanding, and now he has exactly that. There's a peace that comes with it. He should be satisfied, yet... Now that he has his answers, it makes the flickers of jealousy still stirring in his chest harder to process.]
The relationship sounds like it was over before it even began. Trying to make it work any longer would have been a waste of time on both sides.
I accept this part of you, though. It's obvious that we're much better suited together anyway. Do you regret it?
[Regret being with Oikawa or regret telling Sakusa, it's hard to tell which he means. Either way, Sakusa finally seems to relax. He's heard what he needs to hear, and it will take some time to decide what to do with this new information. For now, he's satisfied with what Ushijima has told him. He's probably broken at least Unspoken Rules of a First Date, but he pays it no mind. Instead he's relieved enough to start eating, carefully arranging portions on his appetizer plate.]
I was right, the portions are small.
[Not to parrot Ushijima's own thoughts, but it just makes sense that way. Sakusa's not a fan of things that don't make sense. He's also not a fan of Oikawa. His eyebrows twitch again, toward the later part, as he begins to fill in the blanks. Sakusa has a running timeline in his head and it's filled with his own experiences, facts about other players, and, now, Ushijima's romantic life. As that missing year of Sakusa's second year and Ushijima's last is filled in, Sakusa can't help but scowl. Not only hadn't Itachiyama played against Shiratorizawa at Nationals, but now he knows Ushijima had been spending that time tangled up in...Oikawa.
There's no regret. No sense of something missing. No second guessing what happened or how it happened.
Feeling like that are pointless, and Sakusa knows it. In the first place, it's not like he asked just to cause trouble. All he'd wanted is understanding, and now he has exactly that. There's a peace that comes with it. He should be satisfied, yet... Now that he has his answers, it makes the flickers of jealousy still stirring in his chest harder to process.]
The relationship sounds like it was over before it even began. Trying to make it work any longer would have been a waste of time on both sides.
I accept this part of you, though. It's obvious that we're much better suited together anyway. Do you regret it?
[Regret being with Oikawa or regret telling Sakusa, it's hard to tell which he means. Either way, Sakusa finally seems to relax. He's heard what he needs to hear, and it will take some time to decide what to do with this new information. For now, he's satisfied with what Ushijima has told him. He's probably broken at least Unspoken Rules of a First Date, but he pays it no mind. Instead he's relieved enough to start eating, carefully arranging portions on his appetizer plate.]
I was right, the portions are small.
[Facts! he hears Tendou's voice in his brain responding to Sakusa's conclusion.]
Yes, the relationship was a mistake from the start. I realize that now. I'd say I regret the wasted effort and the heartache, but those negative experiences help to shape who the person I am today; helped me realize what I truly need and want.
[He gives Sakusa a pointed look. The smile returns, partially.]
So, no, I don't regret anything at all.
[It's a shaky part of his past but he's thankful for the experience, at least; it helped him get those "wild days of youth" out of his system before he was able to find someone -- like Sakusa -- he was willing to seriously settle down with. That Sakusa seems to be at ease now helps Wakatoshi relax as well. Maybe they can actually eat now?]
It's French and Japanese fusion.
[At least, that's what the website had said, as if to explain why the portions are so small, especially compared to their prices.]
If you want, you can have mine. Or I can order another for you.
Yes, the relationship was a mistake from the start. I realize that now. I'd say I regret the wasted effort and the heartache, but those negative experiences help to shape who the person I am today; helped me realize what I truly need and want.
[He gives Sakusa a pointed look. The smile returns, partially.]
So, no, I don't regret anything at all.
[It's a shaky part of his past but he's thankful for the experience, at least; it helped him get those "wild days of youth" out of his system before he was able to find someone -- like Sakusa -- he was willing to seriously settle down with. That Sakusa seems to be at ease now helps Wakatoshi relax as well. Maybe they can actually eat now?]
It's French and Japanese fusion.
[At least, that's what the website had said, as if to explain why the portions are so small, especially compared to their prices.]
If you want, you can have mine. Or I can order another for you.
[There's no way to interpret Ushijima's explanation as anything other than implying Sakusa is what he needs and wants, and while Sakusa's not the type to get riled up by compliments, Ushijima's sincerity will always fluster him. The blush on his cheek remains light, but the tips of his ears and neck darken. If Ushijima squints, he might even see an upward tick of the edges of Sakusa's lips, like he's smiling to himself.]
It doesn't bother me. The smaller the portions, the higher the quality. That's how it usually is at places like this, right? If not, then they're scamming you.
Anyway, it doesn't matter. If it's not enough or tastes bad, we can just go home and eat something else.
[So what if wait staff overheard his rude remarks while passing by their table? Sakusa's not impressed by things like the calmari costing more than an ikazaya's entire check or how perfectly angled the tuna pillowed on their greens is. As long as it's healthy and safe to eat, Sakusa's fine with it. Tastes are fleeting and food is just nutrients.
Despite his judgements, he does have impeccable table manners, more from keeping himself and his clothing clean rather than respect. He tosses his tie over a shoulder, rolls up his sleeves, and spreads a napkin over his lap before even reaching for a fork. It takes Sakusa longer than it probably should to inspect and prod at a plateful of shredded greens and fish, but he manages to get it into his mouth, chews slow and deliberate. After swallowing, he pats his mouth with a napkin he brought himself and gives a single, curt nod of approval.]
We can stay. But if the main course is just as small, we should order more.
[The menu wasn't created with professional athletes in mind, after all.]
It doesn't bother me. The smaller the portions, the higher the quality. That's how it usually is at places like this, right? If not, then they're scamming you.
Anyway, it doesn't matter. If it's not enough or tastes bad, we can just go home and eat something else.
[So what if wait staff overheard his rude remarks while passing by their table? Sakusa's not impressed by things like the calmari costing more than an ikazaya's entire check or how perfectly angled the tuna pillowed on their greens is. As long as it's healthy and safe to eat, Sakusa's fine with it. Tastes are fleeting and food is just nutrients.
Despite his judgements, he does have impeccable table manners, more from keeping himself and his clothing clean rather than respect. He tosses his tie over a shoulder, rolls up his sleeves, and spreads a napkin over his lap before even reaching for a fork. It takes Sakusa longer than it probably should to inspect and prod at a plateful of shredded greens and fish, but he manages to get it into his mouth, chews slow and deliberate. After swallowing, he pats his mouth with a napkin he brought himself and gives a single, curt nod of approval.]
We can stay. But if the main course is just as small, we should order more.
[The menu wasn't created with professional athletes in mind, after all.]
[Ah, there are few moments where he wishes he was more like that one middle-blocker from the Inarizaki team who always had his phone camera ready to snap a picture before, during, and after games. Witnessing Sakusa blushing like this...he'd like to capture the image forever.
Maybe next time.
Wakatoshi isn't as particular about his food as Sakusa is, but he does mirror his behavior with regards to keeping his tie and lap clean. The food is good, delicious even, but as Sakusa said: there's not enough of it when compared to similar restaurants in the West. Maybe that's why these types of places are good for special occasions only.
Finished with his first bite, he swallows it, chases it with a hearty sip of his ice water, then nods. While he may appear calm, inwardly he's quite relieved with Sakusa's approval of the place. If things hadn't been satisfactory, he wouldn't think twice of leaving the place. Thankfully, that doesn't seem to be the case. Everything seems to be going so well.]
We can do that. Or we can go somewhere else, I do not mind. I had done a lot of research...and this place seemed to be the best one. I'm glad you're satisfied with it. I...normally don't choose restaurants like this.
Maybe next time.
Wakatoshi isn't as particular about his food as Sakusa is, but he does mirror his behavior with regards to keeping his tie and lap clean. The food is good, delicious even, but as Sakusa said: there's not enough of it when compared to similar restaurants in the West. Maybe that's why these types of places are good for special occasions only.
Finished with his first bite, he swallows it, chases it with a hearty sip of his ice water, then nods. While he may appear calm, inwardly he's quite relieved with Sakusa's approval of the place. If things hadn't been satisfactory, he wouldn't think twice of leaving the place. Thankfully, that doesn't seem to be the case. Everything seems to be going so well.]
We can do that. Or we can go somewhere else, I do not mind. I had done a lot of research...and this place seemed to be the best one. I'm glad you're satisfied with it. I...normally don't choose restaurants like this.
That's good, because I don't normally go to restaurants at all.
[There were many reasons for that, Sakusa could list about ten off the top of his head, but he doesn't offer an explanation. He eats another piece, and never speaks while chewing.]
It has to be special for me to come to a place like this. Tonight, for example, is special.
[Quietly:] Actually...it feels like something out of a movie.
[No sooner than said, he looks up from his plate, warningly, and casts a suspicious stare over the table.] But don't get the wrong idea. I don't want to do this often. You should also tell me what you like, so I can take you on a date that meets your standards too.
[There were many reasons for that, Sakusa could list about ten off the top of his head, but he doesn't offer an explanation. He eats another piece, and never speaks while chewing.]
It has to be special for me to come to a place like this. Tonight, for example, is special.
[Quietly:] Actually...it feels like something out of a movie.
[No sooner than said, he looks up from his plate, warningly, and casts a suspicious stare over the table.] But don't get the wrong idea. I don't want to do this often. You should also tell me what you like, so I can take you on a date that meets your standards too.
[It's not a surprise at all that Sakusa doesn't visit restaurants. That he's willing to forgo that for Wakatoshi’s sake makes this moment even more heartwarming.]
It really is.
[The chuckle Wakatoshi lets out is barely audible even in their personal little bubble in this already-soft and quiet restaurant.]
I'm curious as to which movie you're thinking of...
And not to worry. I intend to spoil you as often as possible, but not like this.
[If he were the playful type, he might have winked by now. But he's not that at all. His expression softens but otherwise remains true.]
I'm positive anything you can come up with would be fine by me. I trust you, Kiyoomi. Implictly.
It really is.
[The chuckle Wakatoshi lets out is barely audible even in their personal little bubble in this already-soft and quiet restaurant.]
I'm curious as to which movie you're thinking of...
And not to worry. I intend to spoil you as often as possible, but not like this.
[If he were the playful type, he might have winked by now. But he's not that at all. His expression softens but otherwise remains true.]
I'm positive anything you can come up with would be fine by me. I trust you, Kiyoomi. Implictly.
[The rest of the week leading up to the inevitable Saturday dinner seemed to fly by in a blur. Intense practices and awkward media interviews, as well as all the grueling related work in-between, helped. Wakatoshi couldn't have been more relieved to wake up to his 6:00 am alarm that morning to learn that aside from his morning run and an online Polish class, his schedule was clear. He and Sakusa could spend as much time together as they want.
But first, he had to spruce his place up.
It's not that Wakatoshi's apartment was a pig-sty or, "organized chaos," as Hoshiumi referred to his own place, but he hadn't been able to sanitize it as often as he'd like with his schedule being the way that it is. So he devoted an hour to cleaning the place, stowing away any stray items and spritzing citric acid here and there, followed by an intense bathroom scrub-down. He even changes the floor pads on the kotatsu.
As promised, Sakusa showed up to his apartment right on time a bit later. Wakatoshi had scored enough time to shower, change into a simple Schweiden Adlers hoodie and some shorts, and was in the middle of tying a simple apron at the small of his back when the doorbell rang.
Perfect.
Just before he opens the door, he checks his hair in the mirror by his genkan.]
Hello, Kiyoomi. I'm glad you've made it. Please, come in.
But first, he had to spruce his place up.
It's not that Wakatoshi's apartment was a pig-sty or, "organized chaos," as Hoshiumi referred to his own place, but he hadn't been able to sanitize it as often as he'd like with his schedule being the way that it is. So he devoted an hour to cleaning the place, stowing away any stray items and spritzing citric acid here and there, followed by an intense bathroom scrub-down. He even changes the floor pads on the kotatsu.
As promised, Sakusa showed up to his apartment right on time a bit later. Wakatoshi had scored enough time to shower, change into a simple Schweiden Adlers hoodie and some shorts, and was in the middle of tying a simple apron at the small of his back when the doorbell rang.
Perfect.
Just before he opens the door, he checks his hair in the mirror by his genkan.]
Hello, Kiyoomi. I'm glad you've made it. Please, come in.
[Believe it or not, Sakusa is capable of respectful manners, and when it comes to Ushijima, Sakusa's are impeccable. He arrives exactly at the promised time with a gift in hand. The basket is unassuming enough, the type that would normally carry expensive fruit or melons, but its contents are hardly conventional, an ornate bounty filled to the brim with baking soda, borax, ammonia, bleach, and white vinegar. There's brand new microfiber towels and scrubbers tucked between the bottles as padding, and a handful of lemons and a single rose tucked in the very center. To anybody else, it might look like Sakusa's on his way to clean the prime minister's penthouse, but his purpose, at least in his view, is far more urgent than that. Sakusa holds out his basket with beaming pride, as though offering tribute.]
Excuse the intrusion... Or should I say, "I'm home"? Either way, I brought this for you.
[He toes off his shoes and removes his mask only after Ushijima's taken the gift, and immediately wrings his hands with hand sanitizer from his pocket. Instead of entering Ushijima's home and immediately beginning the judgement he'd pass on anybody else's home, he turns to his boyfriend and plants a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. He backs away quickly, blushing just as thickly as had the first time he stole a kiss.
He nods to himself in approval of the gesture and finally makes his way into the apartment. There's no attempt to conceal the fact he's assessing the space, even dragging a fingertip along usually stagnant surfaces to check for dust. He can usually tell if an apartment meets his standards from that alone, but the lingering smell of chemicals confirms the place has been cleaned recently. Seemingly satisfied, Sakusa shoulders off a heavy bag and sets it on the table with purpose.]
I brought everything I need to spend the night.
[Sakusa turns to Ushijima once more, this time marching up to him. There's a tense moment where it seems like he might tug Ushijima by the apron and take another kiss, but Sakusa simply stares him down. It's easy to tell the apartment's been cleaned, but the equally obvious why is what makes Sakusa finger along the edges of the dangling ends of the knot tied against Ushijima's waist.]
You prepared your home for me, and seeing you in that apron makes me want you now. But I came to learn how to cook, so that will have to wait.
Let's get started.
[And...yup, he's headed to the kitchen.]
Excuse the intrusion... Or should I say, "I'm home"? Either way, I brought this for you.
[He toes off his shoes and removes his mask only after Ushijima's taken the gift, and immediately wrings his hands with hand sanitizer from his pocket. Instead of entering Ushijima's home and immediately beginning the judgement he'd pass on anybody else's home, he turns to his boyfriend and plants a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. He backs away quickly, blushing just as thickly as had the first time he stole a kiss.
He nods to himself in approval of the gesture and finally makes his way into the apartment. There's no attempt to conceal the fact he's assessing the space, even dragging a fingertip along usually stagnant surfaces to check for dust. He can usually tell if an apartment meets his standards from that alone, but the lingering smell of chemicals confirms the place has been cleaned recently. Seemingly satisfied, Sakusa shoulders off a heavy bag and sets it on the table with purpose.]
I brought everything I need to spend the night.
[Sakusa turns to Ushijima once more, this time marching up to him. There's a tense moment where it seems like he might tug Ushijima by the apron and take another kiss, but Sakusa simply stares him down. It's easy to tell the apartment's been cleaned, but the equally obvious why is what makes Sakusa finger along the edges of the dangling ends of the knot tied against Ushijima's waist.]
You prepared your home for me, and seeing you in that apron makes me want you now. But I came to learn how to cook, so that will have to wait.
Let's get started.
[And...yup, he's headed to the kitchen.]
[It's sentimental and maybe a touch embarrassing, but hearing Sakusa refer to this place as his home pulls at Wakatoshi's heartstrings and he can't help the soft smile that cracks his lips because of it.
He accepts the gift basket wholeheartedly, and the smile widens.]
I appreciate it. I saw some videos online where people stripped their laundry with some of these ingredients and I've been meaning to try it for myself. So, thank you, Kiyoomi.
[Wakatoshi accepts the kiss just as well as he accepted the basket, even presses in a bit further because, yes, he's very thankful and he's happy and excited to have Sakusa in his home. He'd always imagined what it would be like and now that it's happening, and Sakusa's here and blushing and apparently satisfied with the state of things, he can't drop the dopey grin from his face.]
If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask.
[--murmured, just as Sakusa sidles up to him and he tenses with anticipation, waiting for his boyfriend to make the next move. Sakusa is particular about things -- or everything, it seems like -- and Wakatoshi doesn't want to disturb this routine. It's his first time here, so it has to go accordingly. He understands.]
Of course. I did not want your first time in my home to be a negative experience. You don't get a second chance to make a first impression, my mother always said.
[He smooths down his apron, curious at first, but it slowly turns him a bit smug. It's a simple and solid-color unisex apron that his mother had packed for him when he moved out of the house. It serves its purpose well, apparently.
He follows Sakusa into the small but efficient kitchen. Everything is cleaned and stored away, save for the retro Flower-brand food processor that's neatly stowed against the wall by the toaster oven. He makes too many protein shakes to justify putting it into a cabinet.
Anyway, he gestures to the refrigerator -- also clean and neatly organized.]
The ingredients are in there, if you could take them out? I'm going to wash my hands and then wash the rice to prepare it for the cooker.
He accepts the gift basket wholeheartedly, and the smile widens.]
I appreciate it. I saw some videos online where people stripped their laundry with some of these ingredients and I've been meaning to try it for myself. So, thank you, Kiyoomi.
[Wakatoshi accepts the kiss just as well as he accepted the basket, even presses in a bit further because, yes, he's very thankful and he's happy and excited to have Sakusa in his home. He'd always imagined what it would be like and now that it's happening, and Sakusa's here and blushing and apparently satisfied with the state of things, he can't drop the dopey grin from his face.]
If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask.
[--murmured, just as Sakusa sidles up to him and he tenses with anticipation, waiting for his boyfriend to make the next move. Sakusa is particular about things -- or everything, it seems like -- and Wakatoshi doesn't want to disturb this routine. It's his first time here, so it has to go accordingly. He understands.]
Of course. I did not want your first time in my home to be a negative experience. You don't get a second chance to make a first impression, my mother always said.
[He smooths down his apron, curious at first, but it slowly turns him a bit smug. It's a simple and solid-color unisex apron that his mother had packed for him when he moved out of the house. It serves its purpose well, apparently.
He follows Sakusa into the small but efficient kitchen. Everything is cleaned and stored away, save for the retro Flower-brand food processor that's neatly stowed against the wall by the toaster oven. He makes too many protein shakes to justify putting it into a cabinet.
Anyway, he gestures to the refrigerator -- also clean and neatly organized.]
The ingredients are in there, if you could take them out? I'm going to wash my hands and then wash the rice to prepare it for the cooker.
Beauty and the Beast. It even reminds me of the ride. All that's missing is for the plates to start singing and dancing.
[It's mostly because everything is so fancy, and the night feels as magical as being trapped in an enchanted castle. This date might seem lowkey to anybody else, but to Sakusa, everything about tonight has been incredibly dramatic.
...And just because Sakusa is capable of being a teasing jerk:] You shouldn't be so trusting, Wakatoshi.
[There's a moment of silence, and then a quiet shuffle. Sakusa's foot brushes against Ushijima's ankle again. Only there's no shoe.]
[It's mostly because everything is so fancy, and the night feels as magical as being trapped in an enchanted castle. This date might seem lowkey to anybody else, but to Sakusa, everything about tonight has been incredibly dramatic.
...And just because Sakusa is capable of being a teasing jerk:] You shouldn't be so trusting, Wakatoshi.
[There's a moment of silence, and then a quiet shuffle. Sakusa's foot brushes against Ushijima's ankle again. Only there's no shoe.]
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