Chapter Text
"Dear Wakatoshi,"
This was one of the nights Semi and Ushijima would just settle down in their living room and entertain themselves without having to resort to Netflix and Chill. That isn't even what I would call chill, Ushijima mused one time.
Also, they aren't up to having sex tonight. It was just literally a night for chilling.
It was a peaceful Wednesday, and Semi got the random urge to write, write sweet nothings and all the things he can think of.
Ushijima thought it would be a great idea for them to write short letters to each other, even if they were already face to face, just because they can. Semi, of course, excitedly grabbed a bunch of papers and pens for them to start on their "activity."
The blond flicked a piece of rolled paper towards Ushijima's direction for not even writing at all, and instead just drowning himself in the novel he was reading. Semi called him a hypocrite. Ushijima insisted he already wrote his part.
"Ehem," Semi cleared his throat. "Dear Wakatoshi, I hate your fucking guts. I hate you so damn much and I wish you'd just trip over a rock and die."
Ushijima looked up from the book he was reading and stared at the blond in front of him. "Are you serious? I wrote really sweet things about you." He frowned.
"Sweet, my dear, is not my thing. Romance can go choke on a dick." He wiggled his socked toes in front of Ushijima's view, and his legs showed no sign of removing themselves on top of the taller's. Ushijima's left brow rose.
He scoffed. "Funny, you choke on m—"
Semi threw his pen and paper at Ushijima, the latter reflexively protected himself as Semi hastily tackled him, Ushijima's reading glasses fell from his face and the two of them toppled from the couch in the process.
"You sick perverted fuck!" Semi cried, jokingly attempting to choke Ushijima but failed and roughly ruffled his olive hair instead.
"Hey!" Ushijima exclaimed, sort of out of breath, which was quite unusual considering he barely even felt tired when jogging. And now this. "I'm only telling the truth—ack, Eita what the hell! That hurt!"
Semi laughed, one that seemed so loud and genuine that Ushijima found himself laughing as well, and the whole world fell into place. Semi ceased ruffling his lover's hair and settled his arms around him in a small embrace. He kissed Ushijima on the cheek and the latter softly nuzzled him in return. Semi's happy, Ushijima's happy. Neither could ask for more.
At 15, Semi didn't know what to expect. First impressions, he thought, do not really last after all. What he thought was a fun guy to hang out with turned out to be such a pain in the ass. Honestly, he didn't know what to hope for when he found out that he was going to be teammates with one Ushijima Wakatoshi from the third section of Class 1.
Maybe he thought they might get along well immediately because of common denominators, or maybe he wished for a close enough friendship, a connection, or just something that would make Semi feel like he at least belonged and he'd vibe with the rest. They were going to play in the same team after all, and Semi was the starting setter despite being just a first year transferee.
It would be a great help if he were to get along with a volleyball protege like Ushijima.
But unfortunately, he didn't.
Semi had hated him with a passion. For some reason, he came up with the thought that Ushijima was cocky and arrogant, just because he can play a bit of volleyball (and is actually really good at it). Whether it was jealousy or something else, Semi didn't know nor did he care. All he wanted to do was punch him real hard.
And punch each other, they did. The coach had scolded them real bad. Funnily enough, Semi never felt remorse and Ushijima almost apologized first had not Soekawa prompted the setter to turn his pride down a notch.
After the whole fiasco the two got close as they practiced together more often, conversations and playful jeers were exchanged as time went by. Suddenly they'd find themselves eating lunch together with a bunch of teammates, studying together inside and outside the library, hanging out in together in one another's dorm rooms—Semi with a guitar at hand, and Ushijima sometimes unknowingly taking videos of him singing. In between everything else, Semi began to feel things that shouldn't even be felt in the first place. Everytime he set his eyes on Ushijima, he started becoming aware of things—his sexuality, his heart rate, his tosses, and the little glances Ushijima throws his way. They don't mean anything, he kept telling himself.
It's weird how someone you hated from the start becomes the person your thoughts keep swimming in. Somehow you find yourself willingly sinking.
Ohira had known this. He knew about Semi's frustrations and (potential?) crush on their captain. The former setter had ranted about everything to him for so many times. Tendou, on the other hand, had found out on his own. He sometimes teased Semi about spilling everything and this enrages the blond. He never did, though. He knew it was much too personal.
They say that when you like someone, you tell them. Semi, therefore, had kept his mouth shut. The world can't tell him to do shit.
"Years from now, he's gonna be happily married with a real pretty woman and she'll also be really smart. She's gonna be the best friggin' wife the man could ask for. She's gonna be hella hot. Spicy. They'll have the cutest kids ever and they're gonna have the time of their lives as they travel the world hand in hand, whereas I will still be pretty much fucking in love with the stupid idiot, but I'll be cheering them on as they achieve their happy ending. The end."
Semi groaned as he stretched, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face. Ohira only rolled his eyes, and Tendou was almost clawing the table from holding his laughter.
"You say that you'll cheer them on," Ohira said. "But why do you look constipated as you say all this...bull?"
"It is not bullshit. It's the truth. Had it all figured out."
"My God, Semisemi," Tendou wheezed. "You should—hahaha—be a friggin' writer, hahahahaha! She'll be real pretty he said! Hahahaha!! S-spicyyy HAHAHAHAH!"
Ohira chided in. "Honestly Eita, just tell him what you feel. If you can't do it now, say it on the graduation day. You don't have to worry about seeing him after that."
"They'll travel the world hand in hand, Reon! Can't you see how beautiful that is?! BAHAHAHAHAHA! HAND IN HAND HE SAID! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"Oh my God, Tendou. Shut up." Ohira winced. "You don't know anything yet, Eita. You can't say what will happen. Stop overthinking it and lighten up. You'll ruin it before it even happens."
Semi only gave him what appeared to be a grimace and proceeded to throw the straw at Tendou, and the red head calmed down a bit but did not giggle any less.
"I'll get over this, watch me."
Old but gold. It was his personalized playlist of well, old songs that were in fact, gold. Lol kidding. But not really. A playlist is composed of a collection of songs that meant something to someone. For Semi, it was a love letter that was never really written much less sent and different people sang what he had wanted to say.
It was his favorite playlist; always listening to the songs when he wanted to study—Mozart was his next best pick when he was really into hitting the books, or when he was lulling himself to sleep after a long, tiring day. When he's sad, he hits play. When he's happy or excited, he hits play. Even if he wanted to strangle someone by the train or at school, he still hit fucking play. There was a myriad of times he chose said playlist; you'd think his ears would bleed but Semi wasn't sick of it at all. In fact, he loved it. He lives and breathes for it. It was almost to the point of obsession—almost.
One day, however, the songs he loved so much had made his stomach churn in disgust and his heart never settled down.
Semi knew, he knew this morbidly familiar feeling: he was in love, and he didn't want to do anything about it. As in nothing.
"Fuck!" He cursed under his breath when his fingers slightly missed a toss. "My bad! That was a bit low." He stole a glance at the direction of their coach, and to his luck Washijo's face was completely calm. He can only pray that his temper was too.
"It's alright, senpai. My approach was bit hasty too. We can try another one! Leave it to me!" Goshiki beamed.
"Sure you will, Tsutomu." Semi grinned back. Goshiki switched to the other side of the net to receive the next ball. Ushijima was next in line to spike.
Gods help me, Semi internally groaned, but moved to toss the ball coming his way that Yamagata received. Ushijima prepared to approach, and when Semi tossed the ball at distinct accuracy the spiker wasted no time to jump and hit with all his might.
It was a good thing Ohira received the ball on the other side of the net; the other players were too shocked at the ferocity of the captain's spike. Ohira still winced in pain, though.
"Nice kill." Semi uttered. Ushijima nodded back at him. "Nice toss. Don't worry about the last one." He replied.
Abruptly, Semi's face turned red as a tomato which left Tendou howling in glee.
"Shut your yap Satori!" Semi mentally agreed with Washijo's remark, but the middle blocker still wheezed like there was no tomorrow.
"I need to get rid of this stupid crush."
Tendou looked up from his game and stared at him straight in the eye. "If anything's stupid here, it's you Semisemi."
"Shut the fuck up, you don't know anything."
The redhead stuck his tongue out in reply. "Care to share, Eita?" Ohira butted in.
Semi dropped his bag on the floor and sighed heavily like a problematic middle aged woman. "This whole feelings thing is making me tired as hell. It's more exhausting than volleyball practice and moreover, I need to give my poor heart a break."
"You sound like an old man." Tendou scoffed.
"I told you to shut the fuck up, Satori. What part of shut the fuck up do you not understand?"
"What is all the profanity about?" A deep voice cut through the conversation and Semi almost broke his neck at how fast he turned to the direction of the newcomer. Of course, it had to be Ushijima of all people.
"Nothing, Wakatoshi. Eita's only expressing his romantic dilemma to us." Ohira replied with a smile. He felt chills at the back of his neck and felt that if he turned around, he'd see Semi glaring daggers at him.
"Romantic? Are you interested in someone, Eita?" Ushijima curiously asked as he approached his locker, consequently removing his shirt. "Apparently!" Tendou cooed.
Fucking— "D-don't listen to him, Wakatoshi! They're spreading nothing but lies and filthy assumptions, haha." The blond looked away, afraid that he was not going to be able to help himself if he looked at Ushijima for too long. What do people do if their crush suddenly starts undressing in front of them? Semi prays that his urges as a healthy high school boy stay still.
"You wound me, Semisemi~" Tendou whined. Semi only rolled his eyes at him.
"You know," Ushijima had completely removed his shirt, leaving Semi to scream inside, oblivious to the snickers the other two sent to the setter's way. "I have heard that if you become interested in someone, you tell them before it's too late. Although I think it is best if you know them better. Perhaps then you will know if you truly like that person."
"Wow!" Tendou cooed. "Where'd ya hear that, Wakkun?"
"In movies." Despite the stab his own crush indirectly stated, Semi smiled at the possibility of Ushijika watching romance flicks; it seemed too adorable. Ohira subtly stared at Semi, noticing the gross grin slowly making its way on his friend's face.
Look at that look on his face, this thirsty motherfucker.