Title: 15 Reasons Why Not to Date Hamada Yoshirou
Disclaimer: I do not own Oofuri.
Reason One: Gender
A/N: Sorry for the long wait. No promises, but I'm going to try to work on this. And also make it better than this chapter. Life has been hectic, but I really wanted to update 3
"Well… First, we're both guys."
If Izumi were expecting a reaction from Tajima it certainly wasn't because, "That's a crap reason!"
"It is not!" The centerfielder defended.
"Yeah it is!" Tajima shot back, grabbing the list and his handy sharpie. With a fell swoop he crossed the number one reason off the list and grinned over his work. "There we go!" He declared, showing it off proudly to his glowering friend.
"That doesn't change anything."
"There's a giant line! It changes everything!"
"Stop being stupid," Izumi flicked the smaller teen on the head, who just laughed. "There's nothing crap about it!"
"All right," Izumi tells him quietly, face down and shame welling up in his chest. "I'll go out with you."
He expects the quiet that follows. He even waits for a belated swell of laughter from the blond and his accomplices who set up this practical joke. Izumi's going to be jeered and hated all the way into college or his grave- whichever comes first.
But there is no laughing, to his surprise. Students don't pour out from behind chalkboards and under desks to berate Izumi on his life choices. Because, well, maybe he does like Hamada. Maybe he's liked Hamada since he watched him throw fastballs in middle school and maybe before that he always thought Hamada was cool. Hypothetically, there'd never been much of a choice.
For his part, Hamada looks pretty confused. Like he doesn't even remember the confession that happened yesterday for god's sake. But obviously Izumi didn't possibly fall for his incredible brains.
"You..." Hamada finally tries, "want to. Uhm, I mean, go out? With me?" He even has the audacity to point to himself as though Izumi might have been talking to the floor. Which, sort of, he was.
"Yeah..." And this is awkward. Izumi doesn't do awkward. He doesn't feel awkward. Never almost- Almost never! Awkward is a word he uses for Mihashi, or the things Tajima says in public places. Izumi's so used to them both that awkward's become more of a description than an emotion. And fuck Hamada looks somewhat adorable when he's happy.
"So..." The blond tries, but his words are broken off by his own stupid grin. "Does this mean that you... Like like me?"
Izumi takes to reading the leftover kanji on the wall and nods as if he wasn't really paying attention. The lines are fluid and the sentences only slant slightly. It's the work of someone with delicate fingers. A girl must have written it, he thinks. Someone small and petite whose hands would fit Izumi's the way his do Hamada's right now.
He ignores the tingle down his spine when all ten fingers curl between the spaces of his own. It's involuntary when his own mimic the action. Slowly, as though giving Izumi permission to pull back, Hamada lifts both fists to his lips, kissing them softly as he manhandles the runner, gently, to move a slight 90 degrees.
Suddenly, Izumi's back is erasing the craftsmanship he had only just been admiring. But who really gives a shit because Hamada's mouth is creating some artwork of its own and Izumi's mouth is the pliant canvas he's been starving for.
"Hamada-" he gets out once or twice. Izumi's not really sure if it's a Stop, We're in Public kind of gasp or another awkward moment of Crap, I Maybe Don't Want You to Stop Even Though We're in Public. But it doesn't matter. Hamada doesn't read much-atmosphere or otherwise-and Izumi knows that already. He also doesn't particularly care when the second tongue in his mouth licks against the roof-
And the fucking door opens.
There aren't a terrible many ways to explain how one's ended up against a wall with a really close friend's tongue playing hockey with your tonsils.
But it sounds a little like, "blllarf llaila," and nobody buys it.
Hamada breaks away, pushing off Izumi with enough force to shove the smaller boys back into the chalk shelf. He hisses in pain, which is just enough to forget for a moment that he's been caught making out with his very male friend. In front of his entire class.
They're all lined up outside. Half by the doors, the rest forcing open the hallway windows for a better look. The bell rings, but no one makes another step into the classroom. Not even their history teacher, who just gapes, scandalized.
With an audience watching, Izumi feels like an unwitting understudy who got thrown on stage just before curtain call. Is he in the right costume? Is he wearing anything? What are his lines? Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
Hamada's gone when he finally dares to look. There's only some knocked over chairs in a somewhat empty classroom.
It's like a Shakespearian tragedy. Except he's not even Hermia, but that ass Nick Bottom. Just without the hot fairy queen pampering his behind.
But he can take it: The jeering. Sometimes he isn't annoyed when a foot here and there sticks too far out into the aisle between desks, or when people'forget'to hand back his test papers. When his mom asks, it's easy to pretend the extra bruises are from baseball practice.
What he can't handle is when Hamada stops talking to him.
The final nail in the proverbial coffin comes a week too late: "Two guys together... It's disgusting." Hamada doesn't even have the decency to look him in the eyes.
Izumi knows-knew it before he even said anything, but it doesn't stop his heart from breaking just a tad.
"Yeah..." Tajima dragged out the word, seemingly caught off guard for once. "That does seem pretty happenable."
"Probable," Izumi corrected him.
"You've got a pretty romantic heart there, Izumi! If Hamada kisses like that, I bet you wouldn't even hear the door open!" Tajima added and keeps grinning even when he gets swatted.
"I still say it's craaaapppppppp!" Tajima rattled his desk a moment later to emphasis his displeasure.
"Think what you want."
"I know!" Tajima defended. "No one's treated Mihashi any differently since he came out!"
"That's because people think Abe will put a curse on them."
"Huuuh? That's silly!" Tajima burst out laughing. "Witch Abe! Stirring his brew and cursing people! I can't see him doing that, strictly!" The two fell into companionable laughter for a while, imagining their poor friend wearing a witches hat, staring into a bubbling cauldron.
"So what about Sakaeguchi? He came out last year!"
"His boyfriend is manlier than the Rugby team. Even you wouldn't be that dumb." Izumi rolled his eyes over the image of the short stop.
"Hamada's manly, too!"
Izumi slumped in his chair, bouncing a pencil with a great deal of attention. It took Tajima a moment to recognize the emotion over his friend's face. It looked bored, but to him it read uneasy. No matter what his every so slightly taller friend tried to say, he was honestly a little frightened. Tajima wasn't all too certain how to deal with such an expression from Izumi. And not knowing how to deal with someone was something that had Tajima squirming in his own seat.
"Just because this school is deranged, doesn't mean it doesn't happen elsewhere."
Tajima considered for a moment, then made an extra squiggly mark next to the previously crossed out reason. "We'll split the difference!" He explained when Izumi looked at the paper quizzically.
"Fine. Read the next one."
Tajima smiled at a job well done.
Homophobia is real. It's a problem. And one day people will hopefully realize that there's nothing wrong with love, no matter who it's between. But I had Tajima disregard the reason only because I'm certain the whole baseball club is gay, with a sometimes exception of Mizutani, and I want to pretend the school is mature and wonderful and not at all like real life.
And also I just really wanted to write more while I had some time, but I forced it and it's crap...
And Happy Birthday Sunchaser55~!