Chapter Text
Takeda tried not to accompany the undergraduates every time they went to Karasuno. He was there often enough to work with Saeko, and he liked to let his students be independent when they could. It was his belief that students were more creative and inquisitive when they didn’t have a professor watching over their shoulder or checking their work. He trusted Yamaguchi to get the samples they needed for their work, and if anything else happened to come up while his students were at Karasuno Takeda considered it a bonus. Ideally, he only wanted to accompany his research assistants to Karasuno once a month, but it was looking like this month it might be more like two or three.
There was nothing wrong with the work being done, but his department requested such meticulous notes on the research practices that Takeda often had no choice but to tag along to the center and write down everything they had done. After a particularly grueling three-hour meeting the week before, Takeda decided that for at least the second and third weeks in July he would need to carefully document everything he and his students did. This led him to driving all four of his research assistants in his car, the three undergraduates squished together in the back while Yamaguchi sat in the passenger seat.
As the youngest, Tsukishima had been forced to sit in the middle, which he clearly resented.
“I have the longest legs, I should be on the side,” he grumbled.
“But you’re the thinnest,” Daichi countered.
“Yeah but you have short legs,” Tsukishima said, continuing despite the noise of protest Daichi made. “Probably even shorter that Kiyoko’s, so why aren’t you in the middle?”
“I’m not short!” Daichi protested, “just because you’re built like a piece of asparagus-”
“Let’s not call anyone names,” Yamaguchi said from the passenger seat. Takeda bit back a smile at this exchange. Sometimes he forgot that despite how competent his research assistants were, they were still very young.
Daichi had leaned forward and was arguing with Yamaguchi. “How can you defend him? He called me short, that’s definitely name calling.”
“I was describing you,” Tsukishima said, his voice bored.
Kiyoko took this opportunity to chime in, “Daichi can’t sit in the middle seat because his hips and thighs are wider than yours, Tsukishima.”
“Are you calling me fat?” Daichi asked, head whipping around to address Kiyoko.
“No,” she laughed, “I’m saying that you have a nice ass-”
“Okay!” Takeda interrupted from the driver's seat, his voice artificially cheerful. “Point taken, next time we’ll take two cars.”
“Sorry Sensei,” three voices intoned from the backseat.
Takeda smiled and shook his head, turning up the radio. Under the music he could hear Tsukishima mutter to Kiyoko.
“Are you saying I don’t have a nice ass?”
“Tsukishima,” Kiyoko whispered back, “do you think you have a nice ass?”
“Enough!” Yamaguchi said from the passenger seat, prompting another series of apologies from the backseat. Takeda glanced over at Yamaguchi and, finding him holding in a laugh, tossed the graduate student a grin before bringing his eyes back to the road.
They arrived without further incident, and as soon as he had parked the undergraduates tumbled out of the backseat and made their way towards the rescue to begin taking samples. Takeda walked to the research center and tried the door, but it was locked. Strange. Maybe Saeko had been working on something that morning and hadn’t opened up yet. He walked towards the rescue to find her, but before he made it to the door a sound came from behind the building.
He walked around towards the sound and found a large machine with a crane set up next to the dock. What Takeda had originally taken for a garage door had been rolled up to reveal the dolphin tank. He recognized a few of the part-time researchers working on the crane, and the familiar sound of Saeko’s voice drew his eyes to the pool where she was waist-deep in water and directing the crew of researchers to set up slings to hold the dolphins next to her. As she was clearly busy, Takeda took a few steps back and resolved to help take samples until she could unlock the research building. Apparently he wasn’t quick enough, as she saw him and waved him over.
“Sensei!” Saeko shouted. “Come say goodbye to the dolphins.”
Takeda walked over and stood a few feet back from the pool. “They’re ready to go back?”
“Yeah,” Saeko said, “mom’s all healed up, and the little one is looking stronger every day.”
“Wow, that’s good news.” Takeda moved closer and kneeled by the pool.
“I’ll miss ‘em,” Saeko continued, “but it’s good. I’m glad they recovered so well, I wasn’t always sure we would get here.”
Takeda nodded but didn’t respond. He remembered when the mother dolphin had come in, injured and in premature labor. Saeko had barely slept for a week trying to keep the two alive. Then, just when it seemed like they were out of the woods the baby had gone into sepsis, leading to the most stressful 48-hours Takeda could remember. But now, months later, both mother and baby looked strong and healthy. He couldn’t imagine releasing them to the brutality and wildness of the ocean, but of course that’s where they belonged. Saeko spoke again, interrupting Takeda’s train of thought.
“Was there something you needed, Sensei? Or did you actually come to say goodbye.”
“Oh, there’s no rush,” Takeda said quickly. “I just wanted to get into the research building. But of course it can wait.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t unlock it. My keys should be somewhere… Ukai!” Saeko called across the pool.
Takeda turned to follow the direction of her voice, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Because of the contrast between the bright summer morning and the relative darkness of the pool area Takeda hadn’t made out much of what was going on in the rest of the room, but now his eyes had adjusted and he could see Ukai stand up from where he was working and walk over. Like Saeko, Ukai was wearing a full wetsuit. A very tight wetsuit. Takeda desperately wished he had decided to take samples with the undergraduates. By this point Takeda should have been used to Ukai and what he looked like. They saw one another at least once a week, and were friendly. Well, pretty friendly. Friendly enough for Takeda to be used to his face. And body. It was just that Takeda was never sure how friendly he should be with someone like Ukai. After the incident with the turtle’s medication a few weeks before it had become easier to talk with him but… Takeda was still hesitant around him. Probably a good thing, if the wetsuit elicited this sort of reaction.
The dark material of the suit let Takeda trace Ukai’s shoulders to his broad chest, down to the dip of his waist. Though he was still crouching, Takeda didn’t let his eyes drift any lower, and instead turned back to Saeko, his mouth feeling dry.
“What’s goin’ on?” Ukai asked Saeko, then gave Takeda a slight nod. “Morning, Takeda-san.”
Takeda gave a small wave back, but was saved from having to formulate a greeting by Saeko speaking again.
“Do you know where the keys to the research center are? They should be in my bag somewhere.”
“Yeah, I put your bag outside of that door so it wouldn’t get wet,” Ukai jerked his head to indicate the door which led to the rest of the rescue center. “You need them now?”
“Sensei does,” Saeko said.
“Oh, right,” Ukai turned to regard Takeda more fully, which the professor was not at all appreciative of. “I’ll grab them for you, just follow me.”
Takeda nodded jerkily and stood up, looking everywhere but at Ukai. He followed him past the pool and into the hallway, where the younger man crouched to search through Saeko’s bag. He grabbed the keys and stood before turning and holding them out to Takeda.
“Thank you,” Takeda said, taking the keys. Now that he was facing Ukai he found it harder to look away from the lines of his shoulders, and how the material stretched around the muscles in his arms. He looked good. Very good. Takeda clenched the keys in his hand tightly, the metal teeth biting into his palm, and forced himself to make eye contact. He kept his gaze even and willed his smile to look casual.
“Best of luck with the dolphins,” he said.
“Thanks,” Ukai replied. “Good luck with, uh, your algae?” his voice went up in a question.
Takeda laughed, “thank you, though I don’t anticipate many challenges.” He smiled before turning and walking towards the research building.
Once he had turned a corner he picked his pace up and made his way quickly towards the research building. He told himself that he wasn’t fleeing from Ukai. He was a professional, and professionals don’t run away from hot men in wetsuits. They do, however, occasionally power walk away from them. Takeda figured this much was understandable.
The materials he needed were exactly where he expected them to be, and Takeda was able to settle into work quickly. About an hour into notetaking Yamaguchi called him to answer a few questions about sample sizes, which took about fifteen minutes to fully sort out. Another hour passed and Takeda felt pretty good about the precision of his notes. Even though the program had been extended for another two years he still felt so scrutinized by his department. A more optimistic person would have thought he was being evaluated for a promotion, but Takeda felt more like he was being hunted. One trip up, one small mistake, and his department head would strike. Even after years of fruitful research and positive student reviews Takeda felt perpetually on thin ice. So he liked to be prepared, hence the meticulously detailed notes. Once he was confident that he was prepared for the next interrogation from the department head Takeda left the office to join his research assistants.
Only a few meters from the exit Takeda was stopped in his tracks. Ukai sat on the floor next to the propped-open door of a supply closet, contents of a first-aid kit littering the ground beside him. The part of the scene which had rendered Takeda incapable of forward motion was Ukai’s state of dress, or undress, as it were. Ukai had rolled the top of his wetsuit down to his waist and was treating a large scrape on his shoulder. Though, as Takeda observed, treating seemed to be a generous term for what Ukai was doing. He gingerly dabbed at his shoulder with antiseptic, wincing every time the wipe made even slight contact with his skin. After a few halfhearted swipes Ukai reached for a large bandage and peeled off the backing, which finally prompted Takeda to make his presence known.
“Stop!” he rushed forward and halted when he was only a few steps away. Ukai turned to him in surprise.
“Takeda-san?” he asked. “What do you mean, stop?”
Takeda swallowed thickly, and wondered if he could will himself to sink into the floor. Well, he couldn’t very well back out now, could he?
“I mean you shouldn’t put that bandage on now, you didn’t clean the wound properly.”
“I just sanitized it, though,” Ukai said. His voice had a petulant edge to it that was almost cute, but Takeda ignored that thought in favor of schooling his features into an approximation of professionalism.
“You mean what you did just before this? When I came down the steps? That was not sanitizing it.”
Ukai looked embarrassed, and his hands fidgeted around the bandage. “I wiped it.”
“Did you get that while you were in the pool with the dolphins?” Takeda asked.
He walked two steps closer to Ukai and then stopped again. He should just leave. He should just walk out of that door and let Ukai deal with his own scrapes. He should rejoin the research assistants outside and let the bright sun burn away the image of Ukai’s collar bones, burn away the memory of the drip of water which fell from the smattering of hair on his chest and snaked down his stomach towards the trail of dark hair just visible above where Ukai’s wetsuit was folded down.
“Yeah,” Ukai was talking again. “The little one was making a lot of noise so the mom just went crazy and thrashed everywhere. I mean I get it, that’s her kid. Still hurt like a bitch, though.” Ukai’s hand flew to his mouth after he realized what he said. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to curse.”
Takeda smiled. “It’s okay, I’ve heard much worse. But if you got that while you were in the water you should really make sure to wash it well. Otherwise you can get an infection.”
“Oh, right,” Ukai put the bandage down and looked at the remaining antiseptic wipes skeptically. “Will these work?”
“I mean they’re not terrible,” Takeda said. “I could…” Oh god, he was about to make a terrible decision, wasn’t he? “I could help, if you wanted.” Yep, terrible decision.
“Yeah?” Ukai turned to him, eyes big. “That would be great, actually.”
“Sure. Grab the first aid kit and come with me.” Takeda turned on his heel and walked towards the first floor bathroom, pausing briefly to make sure Ukai was following. This was a horrible decision. A truly calamitous choice. A disastrous situation which was perfectly avoidable, if Takeda had just kept his mouth shut. They entered the bathroom, and Takeda pointed to the counter next to the sink.
“Sit there,” he said. Ukai gave him a questioning look but sat on the counter without any argument, setting the first aid kit down beside him.
Takeda wet a paper towel and held it for a moment, assessing the scrape on Ukai’s shoulder. It stretched from his deltoid to just below his clavicle, and oozed pinpricks of blood in several spaces. In the most professional way he could, Takeda spread the damp paper towel over the length of the injury. Ukai winced slightly, but didn’t withdraw from Takeda’s touch. As gently as he could, Takeda drew the paper towel across the scrape. It came away slightly pink from where Ukai was still bleeding.
Takeda stuck his hand beneath the soap dispenser, and came away with blue antibacterial soap dripping across his fingers.
“This might hurt a little,” Takeda said.
Ukai raised an eyebrow but nodded. Takeda wondered for a moment how to do this in a way which would communicate, above all else, I am not trying to sleep with you . After a few agonizing seconds he concluded that in order to effectively sterilize this wound he would probably have to deal with at least a little homoeroticism. Well, he’d made it this far. He smeared the soap over Ukai’s skin and tried to ignore his slight hiss of pain.
“Sorry,” Takeda said. He lathered the soap into damp skin and did his best not to notice how warm Ukai felt under his fingers.
“It’s fine,” Ukai gritted out.
“She really got you,” Takeda remarked. He turned the sink on and cupped his hand underneath the warm stream of water before dripping it over Ukai’s shoulder, washing away the suds clinging there.
“Yeah,” Ukai said. “I think she was really afraid, apparently she hadn’t been separated from her daughter since she was born.”
Takeda nodded and began dabbing the scrape with another wet paper towel, ensuring that all of the soap was gone.
“They looked happy when they finally got into the water, though,” Ukai remarked. “Swam off together and everything.”
“Good,” Takeda said, tearing open an antiseptic wipe. “Was it hard to watch them go?”
Ukai looked thoughtful, “maybe a little. Mostly it just seems so dangerous out there. In the ocean.”
Takeda nodded, then carefully drew the wipe over the cleaned scrape. Ukai hissed, his nostrils flaring, and grabbed Takeda’s wrist to stop him.
“Warn a guy next time,” he said, his eyes bright with pain and surprise.
Takeda inhaled sharply. “Sorry.” Ukai’s hand was hot, and his eyes were closer than Takeda expected. He looked back at Ukai for several long seconds, his heart thudding so loud he was surprised it didn’t echo off of the walls of the bathroom.
Ukai looked away first. “It’s fine, I was just surprised.”
“I’ll be done soon,” Takeda said. Ukai’s hand still grasped his wrist, and Takeda was struck by the thought that his racing pulse was probably beating against the other man’s fingertips.
“Okay,” Ukai breathed. He loosened his hand, and Takeda finished wiping the antiseptic solution over his injury. Ukai winced, but didn’t protest further.
“We should let it dry for a moment, before antibiotic ointment and a bandage,” Takeda said.
Ukai exhaled shakily, “Right. Thank you.”
“Of course,” Takeda replied. He dropped his hands to his sides. “How’s your turtle?”
“She’s not my turtle.”
“Right, of course not,” Takeda gave Ukai a small smile, “but, how’s your turtle?”
Ukai let out a short laugh, more an exhale than anything else. “Maybe a little better. Mostly she’s stable for now, which is good.”
“That is good,” Takeda said. “Do you know when she… I mean, is there a timeline for her recovery?”
Ukai shook his head, “not really. We’ve only just been able to cut back on the pain medication, but she’s still on a lot of antibiotics.”
“Hm,” Takeda hummed in understanding.
“I’m hoping she’ll be doing much better in a month,” Ukai offered.
“Why a month?”
“Well,” Ukai colored slightly, “it sounds a little childish but her eggs are supposed to hatch in early August and I just…” he trailed off.
“You wanted her to be able to be there for them?” Takeda supplied. The blush grew on Ukai’s face, and something that felt suspiciously like affection grew in Takeda’s stomach. God, this man.
“Okay it sounds dumb when you say it out loud,” Ukai’s tone was defensive. “I know they don’t actually meet up or anything. I just liked the idea that they would, you know, be there together.” He wouldn’t meet Takeda’s eyes, which was just as well because Takeda was almost positive that the tenderness he was feeling was written all over his face.
“It doesn’t sound dumb,” he murmured. “I like the idea of her waiting for them as well. Makes it seem a little less scary.”
“Yeah,” Ukai’s eyebrows came together in concern. “I mean if she dies, they won’t even know. They’ll be so small and they won’t know their mother is gone…” he trailed off again, his eyes sad.
Without thinking Takeda grasped Ukai’s uninjured shoulder, wanting to erase the hollow expression from his face. Ukai looked up, face open and vulnerable.
“She’ll make it,” Takeda assured him.
“How do you know?” Ukai asked.
“I don’t,” Takeda admitted, “but I know she’s got good people in her corner, so I figure she’s got a good shot.”
Ukai smiled and searched Takeda’s face before meeting his eyes. Takeda could practically hear his own heartbeat, and he swallowed thickly as he returned Ukai’s gaze. They were close, closer than Takeda remembered being. After cleaning his scrape he was practically between Ukai’s legs, hands hanging just centimeters from his wetsuit-clad knees. Ukai’s eyes drifted down for a moment, then back to Takeda’s. His smile changed slightly, becoming more hesitant, and his eyes filled with a question Takeda couldn’t discern.
Ukai’s eyes were so close. “Takeda-”
“Your shoulder is dry enough to apply the bandage,” Takeda interrupted. Something like fear was prying its way through his ribs, and every breath ached in a way he couldn’t account for.
“Oh,” Ukai said, his eyes dropping down to his injury. “Sure, okay.”
Takeda prepared the bandage in silence, spreading a thin layer of antibiotic ointment on the cotton pad before smoothing it over the worst of the scrape. He held the corners of the bandage to help them adhere, but tried to make sure his fingertips didn’t accidentally brush over Ukai’s skin.
“Leave this on for as long as possible,” he said, “as then reapply some ointment when you take it off.”
“Right.” Ukai seemed to hesitate for a moment before grabbing Takeda’s wrist again, the motion forcing his palm flat against the warmth of Ukai’s chest. Takeda gulped, his eyes on where his hand rested.
“Thank you, Takeda-san,” Ukai said. He released Takeda’s wrist.
“You’re welcome,” Takeda whispered, withdrawing his hand and holding it stiffly by his side. “I, uh, I should go help my students. Are you-”
“I can clean up here,” Ukai said.
Takeda could feel the other man’s eyes on him even as his own darted towards the door.
“Okay, thanks. I’ll, uh, I’ll just…” Takeda retreated towards the door and pulled it open. Halfway through he turned back to Ukai, who was still sitting beside the sink, staring after him. “Have a nice day, Ukai-san.”
Ukai nodded, “you too.”
Takeda let the door shut behind him and walked out of the research center. The sun was overly bright after the dim light of the research center, but Takeda blinked away the discomfort as he walked as quickly as he could towards the rescue center. For some reason his hands were shaking, and he stuffed them into the pockets of his pants. Of one thing Takeda was sure: he was running away. He just wished he knew what he was running from.
Tsukishima had never been called patient. It wasn’t that he was particularly impatient, he just tended to get things done quickly. Especially things he had control over, like schoolwork. Everyone had told Tsukishima that when he started college he wouldn’t be able to keep up the same types of grades he’d gotten during high school, but in three years he hadn’t had a problem. Until now.
Maybe the issue was that the research was technically ungraded, so there wasn’t a single right answer or right strategy for engaging with the material. Whatever it was, Tsukishima was struggling academically for the first time. The actual experiments and number crunching wasn’t a problem, it was the thought behind it. Tsukishima could isolate algae colonies and run analytics and graph results until he was blue in the face, but he couldn’t make the connections he knew he was supposed to be making. This had been highlighted the previous Friday when Yamaguchi had pointed to two trend lines and enthusiastically asked Tsukishima if he also thought that this new data was exciting, and he hadn’t had anything to say back. Yamaguchi had been nice about it, but the grad student’s explanation and kind words hadn’t been enough to cool the burning shame Tsukishima had felt in that moment.
He wasn’t failing the program, he just wasn’t contributing. Neither Takeda-Sensei nor Yamaguchi would ever say that, but Tsukishima knew it was true. He watched Daichi and Kiyoko talk about their work and ask questions, but when it was his turn to speak he could never find anything smart to say. And he always had something smart to say. So no, he wasn’t failing. But he didn’t belong in this program.
Tsukishima almost dreaded going to the lab at this point. Almost. But it was a complicated sort of almost-dread, because if he didn’t go to the lab he wouldn’t have a reason to see Yamaguchi, and seeing Yamaguchi was the best part of his week. He was pretty sure they were friends at this point. Well, he hoped they were friends. Yamaguchi was easy to be around, he was sweet, and funny, and laughed when Tsukishima made comments that fell somewhere between sarcastic and jackass. Also sometimes Yamaguchi smiled in a way that made Tsukishima forget how to breathe, but he didn’t see why that would impact whether or not they could be friends.
Earlier that day, for example, Yamaguchi had re-tied his hair into a ponytail while listing the necessary sample sizes for that day and Tsukishima had needed to wait for him to walk a few meters away in order to ask Kiyoko to repeat what they had been. Despite this unfortunate delay in information Tsukishima had been able to take samples in the proper volumes, so he figured it wasn’t really a problem. And sure, once they were back at the lab Tsukishima had needed to recount supplies twice because in the close quarters of the work bench Yamaguchi’s forearm kept accidentally brushing against his, but that only set him back a minute or two so, again, not an issue. No, the real issue here was that he wasn’t very good at being a research assistant.
Because he wasn’t contributing a lot academically, and also maybe a little because he wanted to be around Yamaguchi for a few extra minutes, Tsukishima volunteered to stay later and clean their lab station. Yamaguchi was double checking all of the notes from that day, Takeda-Sensei had gone back to his office to do some grading, and Tsukishima was washing every piece of equipment much more slowly and carefully than he really needed to.
Tsukishima figured he could probably wait out the program until the end of the semester and then quit after. It was only another month, he could last that long. Plus maybe after another month he and Yamaguchi would be actual friends, the kind who saw each other outside of the lab. Then he would have a reason to see him next semester. He didn’t think Yamaguchi would be mad if he quit the research project, he knew Tsukishima wasn’t good at this. They all knew he wasn’t good at this.
Tsukishima snuck a look at Yamaguchi, his head bent over his open laptop, a stray piece of hair falling forward over his forehead. Brown eyes met Tsukishima’s and he startled slightly. He’d been caught.
“Hey, can you take a look at this for a second?” Yamaguchi asked, indicating the stack of papers next to him.
Tsukishima nodded and put the soapy beaker in his hands down, wiping his hands dry on his jeans as he walked over. He peered over Yamaguchi’s shoulder at where he was pointing, and was met with a page of messy handwriting which he immediately recognized as Daichi’s.
“Do you know what this says?” Yamaguchi asked. He pointed to a specific line on the page, which Tsukishima squinted at.
“It says ‘growth rates consistent with colony B, not D or E,’ I think.”
Yamaguchi smiled widely. “Thanks! I can never read his writing.” He typed the line carefully into the document on his computer.
“Sure,” Tsukishima said. “Was that it?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry to bother you about something so small.”
“No!” Tsukishima cleared his throat, “I mean, I wasn’t… I’m happy to be helpful, is all.”
Yamaguchi blinked at him a few times, his expression thoughtful. “You’re always helpful, Tsukishima.”
Oh, god. He’d said something weird, hadn’t he? Tsukishima attempted a smile.
“Washing dishes, a key part of scientific discovery.” He tried to make his tone light, but the wrinkle between Yamaguchi’s eyebrows deepened.
“It is an important part,” he insisted, “but you do a lot more than that. You know that, right?”
This wasn’t going the way Tsukishima had wanted. He backed up two steps. “Yeah, for sure.”
“Tsukishima…” Yamaguchi trailed off for a moment, “is something wrong?”
“Not at all,” Tsukishima backed away a few steps more.
Yamaguchi stood up and closed his laptop slowly. “Do you think you’re not helpful?”
Damn it. He just had to make a snide little remark. Someone else wouldn’t have noticed what he really meant, but of course Yamaguchi did. Of fucking course.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Tsukishima avoided eye contact, “I mean I’m learning a lot.”
“You’re an important part of this team.” Yamaguchi was so earnest. On anyone else it would have been irritating, but on him…
“Right, thanks,” Tsukishima was looking at the floor.
“Did Daichi say something weird? Because sometimes he can be sort of blunt, but I’m sure he didn’t mean-”
“No one had to say anything,” Tsukishima blurted. His cheeks were hot.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tsukishima risked a glance at the other man, he looked sad. Tsukishima had done that. Fuck. Well, might as well just say it.
“I just mean I’m not that good at this. I never have anything smart… uh, I mean,” Tsukishima looked down again. “I just don’t know if I should continue next semester is all.”
“You are good at this, it’s just your first time doing it. And you haven’t been studying biology for that long. It’s not like Kiyoko and Daichi were how they are now when they started, but they got better. You will too.” Yamaguchi was moving as he talked, and Tsukishima could hear his steps coming closer.
“Right. Well, like I said I’ll have to think about-”
“You know struggling at first isn’t a bad thing,” Yamaguchi interrupted.
“You don’t struggle,” Tsukishima mumbled, “Daichi and Kiyoko don’t struggle.”
“They’ve been doing this for over a year!” Yamaguchi’s voice was rising. “And I’ve been doing this stuff for almost six. You can’t just compare-”
“It’s embarrassing, okay?” Tsukishima’s voice cut across the room, too loud in the still lab. “I have to work so much harder and I still feel a step behind. And on top of that I look fucking stupid!”
“So what!” Yamaguchi’s voice was loud, too, and there was an edge that made Tsukishima look up. “So what, Tsukishima? So people can tell you’re working hard, what’s wrong with that? It’s not a bad thing to try hard.”
Shame bubbled in Tsukishima’s stomach, and he tasted metal and acid.
“God, Yamaguchi, what do you care?” The words bit ugly and serrated against his tongue. He heard Yamaguchi inhale sharply. Tsukishima was afraid to look up, but when he managed to, Yamaguchi didn’t look hurt, just angry.
“What do you mean, what do I care?” He was practically yelling, his eyes bright. Tsukishima couldn’t look away. “I thought we were fucking friends. Obviously I care if you leave or not.”
Oh. That. He knew it was the wrong moment, but happiness bloomed in Tsukishima’s chest and he had to remind himself not to smile. They were friends. They were friends and Yamaguchi cared if Tsukishima left or stayed. He could kiss him. Probably shouldn’t, though.
“We are friends.” Tsukishima’s mouth was very dry.
“Good,” Yamaguchi said. “Then do you trust me?”
Completely. Unquestioningly. “Yes.”
“Then stick with this program, okay? I promise you’re good at this. I can help you whenever you need it just… just don’t quit, okay?”
Yamaguchi probably could have asked Tsukishima to commit murder at that point and gotten an affirmative answer.
“Okay.”
“Good.” Yamaguchi looked down, his face inexplicably reddening. “I should go.”
“Okay,” Tsukishima repeated. His heart was beating very fast, and he wasn’t sure he could manage more than that one word.
Yamaguchi turned on his heel and walked out the door, pausing only briefly to grab his computer and the stack of notes beside it. Tsukishima watched as he walked out of the lab, staring at the empty doorway long after Yamaguchi’s figure had disappeared from it. Then, once he was sure the other man had gone, Tsukishima went back to washing the dirty beakers and petri dishes.
As he let the soap and water run over the glass instruments in his hands he kept replaying the moment when Yamaguchi had yelled at him. He was usually so sunny and even-keeled, and tonight was the first time he’d shown any real emotion. Tsukishima gave an involuntary shiver. If he was being honest with himself, he wouldn’t mind seeing some more emotion from Yamaguchi Tadashi.