> friendship is fragile wc; 1.4 k pairing; matsukawa x gn!reader summary; just friends don’t look friends the way you look at him, and just friends don’t smile at you the way he smiles at you.
Whenever you hear someone say Monday, your thoughts always allude to something dreary. Whether it be the double period of mathematics, lack of coffee in the vending machine that only seems to occur on Mondays, or weekly morning assemblies that always went on for far too long.
This Monday in particular, felt extra long. This Monday, aside from all its usual regularities, also brought with it the rain. Cold, icy, fat rain droplets that made water pool along walkways and specks of muddied rainwater to coat your legs.
The only upside was that Mattsun had no practice today; and it was tradition to walk home together on Mondays after school.
But, you suppose, today isn’t exactly ideal conditions for walking. This was only further emphasised by the fact not only had you left your umbrella in your last period class, a double period of mathematics, which you had been very eager to leave, thank you very much; but, the classroom was now locked.
Maybe Mondays hate me as much as I hate them.
Sprinting home was the only option either of you could think of at the time; maybe the two of you should have thought some more.
Upon reaching your house you were able to think of three universal truths at the exact same time. First, come hell or high water, Mondays sucked. Second, your school uniform was uncomfortable and almost itchy when wet. Third, Mattsun loved the rain and you thought he was crazy to be smiling to himself like he was because of it.
You were more than happy to collapse into a wet heap once the front door to your house was wrenched open, but you knew Mattsun take that opportunity to tease you, something he did often enough already.
Faintly, as you peel back hair stuck to your skin, you’re aware of the front door closing and the wet sounds of Mattsun shuffling around somewhere near you.
For a moment there is quiet. You take this moment to observe him, observe that he doesn’t seem to be shivering at all and that his cheeks are flushed and water droplets make his hair look shaggy.
The quiet is interrupted by telltale laughter and the sound of his hair flopping about his head as he leans forwards, water droplets hitting you in the face and neck, your hands flopping forwards in attempts to stop him as he dances away from your reach.
Stupid volleyball player and his stupid laugh.
He’s smiling from ear to ear, no longer smirking and looking rather proud of himself. He always smiles at you after something like this, unadulteratedly happy with the dimple in his left cheek on proud display.
You roll your eyes and turn to walk further into the house, throwing an offering of grabbing some towels from your bathroom over your shoulder and listening as he follows, but like always you linger on his smile. You like his smile.
His hair frizzes with friction from the towelling you give it, occasionally sharing his softened grin. It’s only after you’re both dryer than previous, no longer drenched in the torrents of water that had fallen from the sky, that you settle into your usual routine with him.
The music playing from his phone which you’d commandeered, and the sounds of him rustling through your pantry for food, brings a comfortable silence and familiarity which you allow yourself to bask in.
I swear he never stops thinking about food.
You think you like this sense of familiarity you’ve cultivated with him. You like that, as your eyes drag from his left shoulder to his right, you know he feels it too. You know that he is a great friend- important person, in your life.
You change the song to something more mellow, that you tap your fingers to against your thigh, sat on your kitchen counter and waiting for him to find what he’d been searching for.
When he turns he’s got- of course he’s got those. The last packet of them too. damn him. He is impervious to your thoughts as his steps echo through the room in contrast to the melody of the song, blasting from the speakers of his phone.
He’s close to your side. You know this, because Mattsun is always close to your side. You know this because he is warm, despite how cool it is outside. You’re made incredibly aware of his closeness when an elbow jabs into the flesh of your ribs. He looks smug.
Exactly like he wanted, he’s got you to look at him, why wouldn’t he be smug? Then he’s smiling. Smiling again. Smiling at you. Smiling at how unaware you are, that his eyes are soft and his smile is softer still.
You notice his arm moving at his side a moment or two before his hand encroaches your vision, before a muted sharpness accompanies the flick of his fingers against your forehead, “Dummy. I can’t believe you forgot the umbrellas.”
At your unamused huff, the tips of his fingers linger as they smooth over the skin he’d flicked, before they gently trail to your temple, to your cheekbone; before his hand falls back limp to the counter at his side.
Blinking momentarily at the movement of his hand, your eyes linger over his face as your ears chase the softness of his voice whilst your cheeks fight against the fluster you’re in, “And whose idea was it, to give me their umbrella as well?”
His head angles towards yours, chin tucked towards his chest and expression vaguely resembling a lazy cat as his mouth quirks back into a smirk, “Makki, obviously.”
You allow him this and snort to yourself, leaning a short distance to the side to lean into him. You aren’t sure when his arm winds around your shoulder to rest against your side, and you aren’t sure when you start feeding him pieces of food from the packet he’d grabbed from the cupboard. But things are peaceful again. The quiet is welcome. It is easy- just like existing with Matsukawa is as easy as breathing.
You are aware when his arm tightens around you however, because his head is angled towards you and the music playing from his phone fills the silence.
You aren’t aware of his expression, though. You don’t know that his face is relaxed, that his mouth is parted and dry. You have no clue that he is hyper aware of you, and you definitely don’t know about the butterflies in his stomach.
But, he hopes you feel just as lovesick about him as he does about you.
“Issei, thank you- for making sure I ate earlier. You always make sure I’m taking care of myself.”
Again, you don’t see his smile. You don’t see how much he’s letting himself slip in this moment, how close he is to turning the tables on the friendship that is already so fragile. But, he doesn’t see the way you look at him either, eyes staring like he’d ripped the stars from the sky and had lay them in your hands.
The silence lasts what is only moments. It lasts until his hands frame your face and press lightly into the fat of your cheeks, tilting your head to the right as his hands give a light squeeze to your face, “I like making sure you’re okay. Seeing your happy face.”
Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
You look down as his hands, again, drop to the counter at your side and butterflies swarm and stampede their wings in your chest cavity. You feel unnaturally warm. Your palms feel clammy, you’re positive your knees would be weak if you were standing, and your arms feel like lead.
This is it. He thinks he knows how to approach the fragility of this friendship. How to navigate the shards of it, because he’s about to metaphorically shatter it, catch the shards and hopefully build something new with you.
You wonder suddenly, so suddenly that you stop breathing for a few beats, if he’s always smiled at you like that. If the way you looked at him was obvious to him like it seemed to you.
I like your happy face too.
He opens his mouth to speak, but instead takes note of the food packaging still in your hands. He clears his throat, “Gotta tell you something, after you finish feeding me these.”
The way you look at him, tells him every he needs to know. And the way he smiles back at you, assures you in that moment that you will like this next conversation. Very much.
not sure abt this one & the charactisation but whatevs, this is the longest yet + wrote becos ive had matsukawa brainrot, this is self indulgent n pretty fluffy to celebrate completing a v important exam today :p ++ if you liked makes a lil request or just send a chat <3
