Chapter Text
It's the quiet moments that Kei likes more than anything. Yamaguchi likes to talk; he's known that for years. He likes to fill the silence with mundane chatter, and while Kei has grown used to his voice after all these years, he finds that the times where Yamaguchi says nothing to be the most impactful. He gazes at his face more often, when Yamaguchi's attention is elsewhere and doesn't notice the pair of golden eyes trained on him. Kei would tear his eyes away if Yamaguchi looks at him, but so far, he hasn't.
Kei likes listening to Yamaguchi talk, which is why he stopped using his headphones on their walks together for a while now. He always has something to say, always has something to share. The way he so easily slips into his own little world when talking about something that interests him is endearing, Kei admits to himself. Mostly because Yamaguchi has yet to catch on that Kei sees everything, now, whether he liked it or not.
And it's like the times where he stares at the piles of work upon his desk with a focused expression, legs pulled up onto his chair and sitting in that odd way he does when he's comfortable — one knee brought up to his chest and the other folded across, resting underneath said leg. He rests his chin on his knee sometimes, and Kei's always wondered just how he could do that, even with his height. Those are the times where Yamaguchi says nothing, brows furrowed in concentration, and Kei doesn't know whether to look at the words in his lap or the much more interesting work in front of him, living, breathing, invoking so many emotions inside him that he doesn't know what to do at all.
Yet Kei stares at him either way, his gaze resting on the small pout of his lips, the tip of his tongue sticking out as he scribbles something down. His focus is unparalleled, for Kei has softly spoken his name on accident one too many times; wanting to see his attention on him, but cursing every moment his name slips out. He's grateful that Yamaguchi never seems to notice, and by the time he finishes his homework, Kei's eyes have dropped to his own assignment, pencil gently dragging across his paper.
He always takes a little longer in doing his homework, during their study sessions and such every day, because he can't keep his mind off of the face that somehow became his waking dream. He wonders if attempting to sleep more would be better for his health.
One of his favorite times of silence is when they're stargazing in his backyard, having taken their usual cup of hot chocolate to the small table on the wooden deck — regardless of the temperature, it's Yamaguchi's fault for wanting to keep up a tradition that's started in the winter, and partly his fault for having such a sweet tooth that can't refuse any such thing for the life of him.
Yamaguchi's hands curl around his cup and he quivers with laughter at one of Kei's witty remarks, before placing his drink upon the table, eyes mirroring the stars that dot the skies above him, and Kei finds that he doesn't need a telescope to stargaze. He doesn't need to see the night sky when it's in front of him at all times of the day.
The laughter that appears during these sessions are louder than any star, more apparent than Polaris itself. Kei rethinks his initial thought of silence having more of an impression than Yamaguchi's lack of words. The sounds that spill from his mouth that cause him to feel a spark within, such as a stifled giggle or the tiniest click of the tongue. Maybe every kind of Yamaguchi was the best kind. Silence, sounds, words, whatever Yamaguchi offered, Kei thinks he likes them all.
He idly wonders what this means.
Yamaguchi speaks of cookies, and baking them together with him. He's happy he even offered, and they spend the next day gathering ingredients, making sure that they have enough. A bag of chocolate chips is shoved in front of his face, while he had been looking at cans of sprinkles. A bright smile accompanies said chocolate chips, and Kei sees the sweets that dot his friend's face before he sees the ones proffered into his hands. Yamaguchi can't track the direction of his eyes, it seems, because he keeps shaking the bag in his hands, and a pleading look starts to make its way onto his face.
Kei turns, holding the bag of chocolate chips in his arms, cradling it close. He listens to the soft cheers as Yamaguchi plucks an obnoxiously bright can of sprinkles off the shelf, launching into a rant detailing the many kinds of cookies they could make. Kei stops him with a few words, but Yamaguchi drops the can into his arms anyways, right on top of the chocolate chips.
Kei watches Yamaguchi grab a container of frosting, laughing as he mentions wanting to smear it all over Kei's face. He absentmindedly replies that that would be a waste of money, so his friend grabs another container as a response, claiming he would pay for it, then, if Kei was going to be so stingy about it. Kei rolls his eyes, turning away, but he can't wait for a chance to retaliate Yamaguchi's eventual frosting attack when they return home. His mom would get mad at him (and she did), but it's worth whatever smiles he can pull from Yamaguchi for indulging in his ridiculous stunts that he ends up enjoying, no matter what.
During a sleepover, Yamaguchi struggles to stay awake, falling victim to the warm embrace of sleep before Kei does. He's glad that he did, because he doesn't think he could take the guilt that comes with the knowledge that his friend would have done anything for his insomniac self. He should know. He's done it before. Either way, seeing Yamaguchi fall completely silent, save for the rhythmic breathing, is calming. Kei watches the rise and fall of his chest, the way his cheek is pressed up into the pillow he's hugging into his head, that strand of hair that's still sticking up even in his sleep.
Kei feels too conscious of himself then, looking away as if he was caught in a pair of headlights. But he wasn't. Yamaguchi wasn't even awake. But the fact that he could wake at any moment... Any moment where Kei was staring at him as if he was the entire world (he was, but Kei couldn't bring himself to admit it just yet) and it could all come crumbling down just like that.
It wasn't that Kei was obvious, or that Yamaguchi was oblivious; Kei just doesn't want to lose what he has right now. Watching Yamaguchi go about his life, silently, wordlessly, or bursting with passion, it was something he's come to cherish. He was happy that that he was even a part of his life — he's expected him to leave years ago, after they had just met, like everyone else had. He hopes that Yamaguchi feels the same way.
Kei wants to continue watching the stars fall onto his skin, dropping onto his cheeks and sticking there for as long as forever, the glittering excess to be found within his eyes and smile. He wants to continue doing so, without being caught. Without having it be torn away from him. Everything that he wants, he's achieved by silently watching over his friend. He would really hate to lose it so soon because of a mishap caused by his own hubris, or lack thereof.
The illogical side of Kei, the one that shows itself during moments of weakness, thinks that maybe this is why he can't sleep lately. The logical side of Kei thinks the same thing. Well, what is there to be done when two sides of the same coin end up looking just that, the same? No matter how much he flips this coin, it's going to end up the same. Both sides of him are also convinced that his disgusting way of silently fawning over him is going to ruin him some day, but he foolishly keeps being as he is, knowing this and embracing it with the confidence he could never gather to say to Yamaguchi's face.
He returns to watching Yamaguchi sleep, thinking of this quiet moment that seemed to override all others in terms of endearment and emotion. They weren't even meant to be sleeping side by side; Yamaguchi just fell asleep beside him while Kei was rambling to him about a false informational article that was circulating the internet. And of course he didn't have the heart to wake him up so he could move to his rightful place on the floor, on the futon his mother always leaves aside for him. Yamaguchi just looked so peaceful. Like he attained a peace that Kei wishes he could have, wishes he could share with him.
Yamaguchi stirs, and Kei quickly feigns sleep, shoving his head to the side and curling his fingers into his pillow as he feels Yamaguchi turn around in his sleep, blissfully unaware to the waking world, and the boy beside him whose thoughts was everything related to him. Kei's breath quickened, and his heart was pounding. He lets out a soft huff of laughter and bewilderment at himself; he can't believe that he was scared of being caught. (Of course, he is, and probably would never not be. His feelings being out in the open, torn bare for all to see, especially his best friend of all people, he would rather die than let that happen.)
It was almost exhilarating, the rush of adrenaline that ran through him at the prospect of being found. He doesn't want to do that again though, so he closes his eyes and breathes, enough to calm his racing heart. He wonders if his heart pounded this much before when thinking about Yamaguchi, and promptly gets embarrassed of the thought. He was a lovesick puppy, as he was sure Yamaguchi would call him if he had any idea of his odd habit of "people watching." It was just another reason why he couldn't let any of these feelings go. It was nice, and new. Terrifying and eye-opening.
Of course, Kei gets caught the morning after, having woken up at the crack of dawn for no reason. He scrolls through social media on his phone, but his eyes fall on his friend's face, when he rolled over once again in his sleep. He watches him, watching his hair curl around his face. He wants to brush back his hair, but he can't. He wants to caress his face, but he can't. Then, Yamaguchi's eyes open, and stare sleepily into his. Kei nearly jerks away, instead curling into himself, staring at his phone instead. It carried a much more interesting post anyways. It was a video of a bird dancing. He rolls back over to show said video to Yamaguchi, who rubs his eyes to get a better look.
He hopes that he's already forgotten about Kei staring at him, since he grabbed his phone from his hands and was laughing softly at the jerky movements of the bird. He looks up at Kei, the video on loop. Their eyes meet yet again, and Kei looks away, reaching for Yamaguchi's phone on his desk so he could look through his own social media instead of using his phone, on his account. Yamaguchi sticks out his tongue, pointing to a video of a fox this time, and Kei rolls his eyes, unlocking Yamaguchi's phone just so they could spend a couple extra minutes looking at whatever posts the other has on their feed. He really hopes Yamaguchi won't comment on anything at all.
Kei thinks that one of the worst times to look at Yamaguchi is during those days. The days where Yamaguchi is seemingly listless, or the days where he hyper focuses on his work, to ignore whatever mood life forced into his hands that day. His eyes lack any joy, and Kei can't readily give him any reason to have some, not without observing how exactly he's feeling, because asking can be too much sometimes. It's a little more tense during those days, and Kei wants nothing but for him to smile, because Yamaguchi is the only person that deserves more than what the world offers him.
Kei always does whatever he can to appease his mood, not for himself but for the sake of him, too. Whether this is by giving him candy, doodling in his notebook so he could stare at them during class, or letting him listen to one of his playlists he's made for him. (Yes, he's made multiple just for him, because he's always listening to whatever Kei listens to anyways, so he figured having playlists for him would be nice. Because they're friends, you know.)
The small grin that adorns his face when he hands him a bag of fries the following day is worth more than he could ever hope to know, he feels. It's such a small thing, but the impact it had was not miniscule at all. It meant so much to him, he could tell, from the way he shifted towards Kei, leaning against him as he munched on his fries, and Kei knew he appreciated it, even if he wasn't expecting it in the first place. He thinks that's what made it so effective, though. Despite that, he promised himself that he would do things like this more often. Show him that he cares.
It's not that Kei being nice to Yamaguchi is anything new or surprising to anyone at this point, but still he wonders if Yamaguchi himself is surprised at Kei's willingness to be kind to him. He was always particularly biased to him in the first place, so he would obviously try his best to make sure that he knows he's there for him. It's not a one-sided friendship after all, no matter what anyone else sees of them. What they see is probably only 25% of their full relationship anyways. They don't know of their sleepovers, their stargazing sessions, the days upon weeks upon months upon years that they've spent together, weaved together by stars and dinosaurs and fries and strawberries and music and the moon itself. No one knows in full detail what it was like for the two of them, no one but themselves. But how they both perceive it is what worries Kei, just a little.
At this point, after analyzing all his thoughts that seem to be filled with nothing but the freckles upon his friend's face, the chocolate of his eyes that melt into a bright, shining stare, or the peals of laughter that ring through his ears from amusing situations or the like, Kei admits that it's not normal. It's not a normal thing to think about Yamaguchi as much as he does, despite the fact that he's only his best friend of a couple years now. It's not normal, but it's not something Kei's afraid of. He embraces it now, but doesn't know what to do about it.
He doesn't know when his thoughts had shifted from the daily chatter his friend supplies, to the sounds of his happiness, to the way his body moves in practice, to everything else and more. It's so strange, but he doesn't dislike this at all. He keeps going over events in his mind, and constantly wonders if Yamaguchi might feel the same way, or at least thinks the same of him.
He looks down to where Yamaguchi had fallen asleep, against his shoulder on the bus ride back from a set of practice matches against one of the nearby schools. He shifts, just a little, to close his eyes and lean his head against his. Closeness like this was nice every once and a while, and he felt like he could allow himself to have this, even at the risk of being seen by their teammates. He could possibly keep this a secret for as long as he wanted, really. If Yamaguchi hadn't caught his stares weeks ago, or if he did but didn't comment, he wonders how he would feel about this. It's not as if they haven't been even closer before, but the fact that Kei was reciprocating his sleeping friend's actions probably made it different from anything else.
He can probably say with a 99% possibility that he has a crush on his best friend.