Love Me Harder // MatsuHana.

fifteen

The weeks after their date were, on the surface, business as usual. Matsukawa and Hanamaki fell back into their normal rhythm-teasing each other relentlessly, cracking jokes during practice, and hanging out like they always had. To their teammates, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The two were still the same inseparable pair, still trading playful insults and sarcastic remarks.

But underneath all the banter, there was something different, something that neither of them would admit out loud.

At practice, Matsukawa still gave Hanamaki a hard time about his setting, even though he secretly admired how precise it had gotten. "You sure that wasn't supposed to be for me?" he would tease when Hanamaki's toss went to another teammate.

Hanamaki, always quick to fire back, would roll his eyes. "Not everything revolves around you, Matsun. Sorry to disappoint."

Yet there were moments-tiny, fleeting moments-where their usual bickering carried a weight it hadn't before. Like when Matsukawa's hand would linger just a little too long on Hanamaki's shoulder after a block, or when Hanamaki would shove him playfully, only to catch himself staring a beat too long at Matsukawa's grin.

One day after practice, as they walked out of the gym with their bags slung over their shoulders, Hanamaki spotted a stray volleyball rolling across the court. Without thinking, he kicked it over to Matsukawa, who caught it with ease. "You really can't resist showing off, can you?" Matsukawa quipped, twirling the ball on his finger.

Hanamaki smirked, tossing his bag over his shoulder. "Better than you face-planting into the net last week."

Matsukawa laughed, his deep chuckle sending an annoying flutter through Hanamaki's chest. "That was an accident, and you know it. I bet you've been waiting for a chance to bring that up."

"You bet I have," Hanamaki grinned. But behind the usual sass, his heart was racing for an entirely different reason-because Matsukawa was standing closer than usual, his shoulder brushing Hanamaki's every few steps.

Neither of them addressed it, though. They didn't need to. For now, their usual banter and teasing were a safe space, a way to keep things feeling normal. But the stolen glances, the lingering touches-they were all reminders of the kiss and the date, moments they were both silently replaying in their heads.

Another practice rolled around, and Matsukawa seemed to be in an especially teasing mood. During a water break, he stood beside Hanamaki, grinning as he nudged him with his elbow. "You ready for our rematch after practice? I can't believe you still think you can beat me at that dumb card game."

Hanamaki scoffed, grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat from his face. "I don't think I can beat you, Matsun. I know I can."

"Oh, yeah?" Matsukawa's grin widened, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Last time you were so mad you almost threw the cards at me."

"That's because you were cheating," Hanamaki shot back, though the way he said it was light, playful.

Matsukawa just smirked. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Makki."

Despite the playful digs, they both knew what was really happening here. They were finding excuses to spend more time together, to extend their moments beyond the court and into late-night hangouts that neither of them wanted to end. But of course, neither would admit that. They'd rather joke around, keeping up the pretense that nothing had changed.

After practice, they headed back to Matsukawa's place, where their so-called rematch awaited. It had become a tradition lately-heading over to one of their houses to hang out after practice, just the two of them, under the guise of gaming or watching movies.

As they set up their card game, Hanamaki noticed Matsukawa's occasional glances. It wasn't the first time he'd caught Matsukawa looking at him like that, but every time it happened, it made his pulse quicken. He tried to focus on the game, but Matsukawa's presence was overwhelming. There was something about the way he slouched comfortably on the floor, leaning back on one arm, that made Hanamaki's stomach flip.

"You're staring," Matsukawa said casually, his voice low but teasing.

Hanamaki blinked, his face heating up. "I am not. You're being delusional."

"Right. You're just daydreaming about losing again," Matsukawa replied with a smirk, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief.

"You wish," Hanamaki retorted, throwing a card down with more force than necessary. "I'm not going easy on you this time."

"Good," Matsukawa said, his grin widening. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

As the game progressed, the banter continued, the teasing growing more intense as the tension between them bubbled beneath the surface. But the more they flirted, the more obvious it became-to both of them-that something had shifted.

When Matsukawa won (again), Hanamaki groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the floor. "This is rigged. You're way too lucky with these cards."

"Or maybe you're just bad at this," Matsukawa teased, tossing the winning card aside and leaning over Hanamaki with a smug grin.

"Oh, shut up," Hanamaki muttered, but he couldn't help the laugh that escaped. He reached up to shove Matsukawa away, but Matsukawa caught his wrist, holding it gently for a moment longer than necessary.

Their eyes met, and for a split second, the teasing fell away. Hanamaki's breath caught in his throat, and he wondered if Matsukawa could hear the pounding of his heart. Matsukawa's gaze softened, just a hint, and something passed between them-a shared understanding, a silent acknowledgment of what they were both too scared to say out loud.

But then, as quickly as it came, the moment was gone. Matsukawa let go of Hanamaki's wrist, flopping back onto the floor beside him with a grin. "You're such a sore loser," he said, his tone light and teasing again.

Hanamaki rolled his eyes, his heart still racing, but he managed to keep his voice steady. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Next time, you're going down."

Matsukawa laughed, a sound that sent a warmth through Hanamaki's chest. "We'll see about that."

And just like that, things went back to normal-at least, on the surface. The teasing, the flirting, the endless back-and-forth banter-it all kept them in familiar territory, a safe distance from admitting just how much they were already falling for each other.

Because that's what it was, wasn't it? They were both in deep, both feeling something that went beyond their usual friendship. But for now, they were content to hide behind the playful insults and competitive games, pretending like nothing had changed, even though everything had.

As they lay there on the floor, the comfortable silence settling between them, Hanamaki glanced over at Matsukawa and smiled to himself. He didn't need to say it-not yet. They had time. They'd keep teasing and flirting, keep pretending it was all just a game, until one of them finally caved.

But for now, this was enough.