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“Damnit, Wakatoshi! Why do you never have any sugar in this godforsaken apartment?”
Tendou cries out as he frantically searches every cupboard in Ushijima’s kitchen, finding no sight of even a single grain of sugar, just an excessive amount of protein powders, protein bars, and bags of rice. How does this guy even survive?
“I don’t bake,” he replies simply.
“No sugar, no spices, do you pour protein powder over your boring white rice?”
Ushijima quirks his brows with consideration, “I hadn’t thought of that. Do you think there are health benefits to it? Maybe I should try that next time.”
Tendou should hardly be surprised by his best friend’s dumbassery, but he feels himself gag at the thought of Ushijima actually attempting to season his rice with protein powder. Throwing his hands down to his hips, he huffs, “Well, how can I possibly prepare these truffles you’re so badly craving if you don’t have any sugar for me?”
“You brought over the ingredients, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, that’s what all those bags are.” Tendou points towards the reusable bags full of various baking items and ingredients located on Ushijima’s island.
“And you didn’t bring sugar? That seems like poor planning on your part.”
Tendou groans and pulls down the skin underneath his eyes in exasperation, “I ran out and assumed you had some because normal people have sugar in their homes! I provided the obscure stuff!”
“Do you want me to go to the store?”
“Wakatoshi, my dear lovable oaf, all nearby grocery stores are closed by now. Can’t you just put that charm of yours to use and borrow some from the people next door?”
Ushijima hums at the idea, mulling over the kind old lady who lives to the right of his apartment. He’s helped her with her groceries and various things that needed moving or fixing around her apartment when he’s been home, so surely she wouldn’t mind sparing some of her sugar. Besides, he hasn't seen her the past few days, so it'd be nice to check on her. He nods at Tendou before walking out of his apartment and rapping against the door next to him.
Expecting to be greeted with a gentle hello from Mrs. Funai, he’s surprised to see you standing there instead. Someone much closer to his age, yet kind looking all the same.
“May I help you?” You ask politely.
Ushijima doesn’t speak for a moment, wondering who you are and what you are doing in Mrs. Funai’s apartment. Are you a relative? A hospice nurse? Has Mrs. Funai somehow traveled back in time to her youth? He doesn’t realize he is brooding until you cough awkwardly into your hand. He bows deeply before introducing himself.
“My name is Ushijima Wakatoshi and I live next door. I was wondering if I could borrow some sugar?”
You stare at him quizzically for a moment before clutching at your stomach in laughter. Ushijima blinks as he’s unsure as to what is so humorous about his greeting and request, but your laughter rings delicately in his ears far after you’ve recollected yourself. There’s a bizarre warmth that blooms along his features in embarrassment.
“Sorry,” you inhale with a smile, “I just didn’t realize neighbors actually do that.”
“Do what?”
“You know, ask each other for sugar. Like on TV.”
Another beat of silence passes as Ushijima simply stares at you and ponders. You swear you can see a visible question mark hovering over his head and you find it charming. You cut the tension by opening your door wider to invite him in, which he awkwardly accepts.
“Excuse the mess, I’m still working on unpacking.”
Ushijima trails behind you as you weave through piles of boxes scattered about on the floor, taking notice of the lack of Mrs. Funai’s belongings and decor. He deduces that his previous theories of your identity are all incorrect. Observing the emptiness of the apartment, aside from misplaced furniture and hoards of unpacked boxes, he assumes you must have moved in within the last few days. Ushijima just returned from an away game trip last night, so he’s sure he missed your arrival and Mrs. Funai’s subsequent departure during his absence. Still, he can’t shake the question eating at him from the inside.
“What happened to Mrs. Funai?”
You peek from above the boxes you’re digging in and cock your head to the side, “Who?”
“Mrs. Funai. The tenant before you.” A deep sense of worry settles within him. He doesn’t want to assume the worst, but with her age and limited capabilities, he can’t fight the anxiety clenching tightly in his chest.
“Oh, the sweet elderly lady? I met her as I was moving in. She says she’s moving closer to home to be near her grandchildren.”
The breath he exhales is heavier than he intends. He feels his body relax with it, “Good. That’s good to hear.”
You smile to yourself, thinking back to when Mrs. Funai gave you the rundown of the apartment and her neighbors. She spoke of Ushijima like a grandson, telling you what a kind, strong, and handsome young man he was. Listening to his relief over Mrs. Funai’s whereabouts and giving him a discreet once-over, you can’t help but to agree with her descriptors.
Ushijima watches with piqued interest as you search, wishing he could help somehow, but also not wanting to overstep. He’s aware his presence can be a bit intimidating, and the last thing he wants to do is scare you away. Not when he’s finding himself curious about you.
“You haven’t told me your name.” He speaks up over the clattering noise of your search through a third box labeled Kitchen.
Looking up at him again, you grin as you offer him your name and it makes a home in Ushijima’s mind. He has a tendency to be forgetful of names, but with the way your name stretches and chants in his head in a soft echo, he knows there’s no way he could ever forget it. His curiosity pushes him to ask for more about you, but he’s interrupted by your discovery.
“Aha!” You cheer triumphantly, pulling out the half-full bag of sugar from its place and waltzing over towards him, “This is all I have at the moment. Is it enough?”
Ushijima is honestly unsure of the amount his friend needs, but your kindness and brief company is most definitely enough, “It is, thank you.”
Your hands brush as Ushijima retrieves the bag from you, and there’s a peculiar tingling in his hand along with a strange force that keeps him planted in your kitchen despite him receiving what he came for. He wants to say more, get to know his new, smiley neighbor a little better, but his brain is incapable of providing anything worth conversing over. Ushijima is a man of few words, but to be rendered speechless is unusual for him. He’s not sure how to feel about this sensation. The best he can give is an awkward farewell.
“Welcome to the apartment. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
You chuckle under your breath, following the stiff Ushijima over to your door. As he ducks out and walks next door to his own apartment, you call out, “Nice meeting you, neighbor. If you ever need sugar, you know where I am.”
For a brief moment, Ushijima considers never buying sugar.
***
The next time sugar is needed is only two nights after meeting you for the first time. Tendou is borrowing Ushijima’s kitchen (it’s much bigger than his own, he always argues) to try out a new recipe of chocolate eclairs.
“Wakatoshi, I thought we had enough sugar but I still need one more cup. Could ya check and see if your neighbor is willing to let you borrow some again?” Tendou calls over his shoulder and Ushijima is already out the door before he can turn around.
He knocks at your door in three even beats. In three more, you answer, smiling upon seeing Ushijima standing in your doorway once again.
“Back for more sugar already?” You tease.
Ushijima nods and accepts your offer to come inside. Looking around, he sees that your apartment is nearly set up to your liking. There are far fewer boxes littering the floor and your belongings are set in their rightful places. He didn’t know what to expect when he imagined you making yourself at home here, but he is pleased with your choices. Despite his unfortunately limited knowledge of you, he feels your apartment reflects you quite well.
“You’re making great progress I see,” he hums approvingly.
“I still feel like I have a million things left to do,” You huff as you scan your apartment, “But it is coming along I suppose.”
He speaks before his thought is processed properly, “I can help with anything you have left.” Praying he’s not being too forward, he clarifies his intentions, “As thanks for the sugar, that is.” Though not entirely transparent of his true wishes – he simply wants to get to know you better in hopes of understanding just why you are beginning to occupy his thoughts throughout the day – Ushijima does truthfully want to thank you for being his sole sugar supplier.
You grin cheesily but shake your head. Reaching for an extra bag of sugar you bought during your recent grocery trip, you hand it over to Ushijima, “That’s alright. My sugar is free of charge. For you, that is.”
A small smile creeps onto Ushijima’s face and you have to hide your amusement behind tight lips as you walk him to your door. He turns to face you, once again finding himself wishing to say more, to find any excuse to stay in your presence just a little longer, but your sweet smile makes his breath catch in his throat, unable to materialize into the words he wishes to say, the questions he wants to ask. Instead, he offers, “We only need a cup. I can return it when we’re done.”
We? A sharp pang hits deep in your chest. Surely he’s not referring to a romantic we? Mrs. Funai hadn’t mentioned that Ushijima had a significant other. In fact, she seemed rather eager to play matchmaker for the two of you, noting how Ushijima must be so lonely living by himself, how he will be happy to have someone his own age right next door, and how you must be sure to look out for him for her. Still, he had said we. Why did the possibility of him borrowing your sugar just to share it with someone special, someone not you, bother you so much?
Just before he curtly departs, you speak, “Don’t worry about it, you can keep the bag.”
He stiffens. Is this your way of telling him to stop pestering you for sugar? Ushijima isn’t usually an overthinker, but his thoughts race with a million questions. Your effect on him is puzzling, but he doesn’t want to give it up.
“I’ll have another bag and a fully decorated apartment for your next visit.” You promise happily, attempting to swallow any insecurities. You want him to visit again, even if that means bringing his significant other along with him. Surely it won’t be hard to contain the inexplicable giddiness you feel in his presence upon seeing him in a committed relationship. The two of you could be friends. That’s all he thought of you at the moment anyway, right? “And maybe you can bring over whatever it is you’re using all my sugar for.”
Nodding once again, he breaks out into a full smile when you close the door. He's thrilled for another opportunity to see you, though entirely unaware of your growing concerns.
***
Away for a tournament, it’s been five days since Ushijima last saw you and he hadn’t expected the effect it would have on him. When his mind isn’t occupied with volleyball, which is just a smidge less nowadays thanks to you, his thoughts are often riddled with all things you. It baffles him how he can be so enraptured with someone he knows so little about. He’s felt small bouts of attraction before, but nothing to this dizzying degree. Your smile, memories of your laughter, your kindness, it all holds Ushijima in the palm of your hands and he’s quite frankly unsure what to do with himself. Despite the new, unfamiliar feelings settling within him, his nervousness is trumped by his itching desire to see you after this time apart, no matter how brief.
Upon entering his apartment, he finds Tendou is already inside using his kitchen to prepare some cupcakes for his niece’s birthday party tomorrow.
“Do you need any sugar?” He offers as he sets his bags down, not recognizing the eagerness laced in his tone or the enthusiasm tingling at his otherwise tired feet as he heads back towards the door.
Tendou scoffs, “You’ve been gone all week and I don’t even get a hello?”
“I was on the phone with you last night,” Ushijima reminds him matter-of-factly.
“What’s got you so eager? You’re not prostituting yourself to the nice old lady next door just for some sugar are you?” Tendou cracks an egg into a mixing bowl and laughs maniacally when he catches Ushijima’s look of disgust.
“Mrs. Funai no longer lives next door.”
Tendou pauses with the next egg, brows knitting together, “So then who do you keep going to see next door?”
Ushijima gives Tendou your name, reassuring that you are their age and that he is in fact not prostituting himself for sugar for anyone. Though, he does wish you would let him do something for you as thanks for all the free sugar. He also remembers that you are a week due for a housewarming gift. Ushjiima is already setting a bad impression, he is sure of it. He wouldn't be surprised if you actually dislike him. All he’s done is take, he wants so badly to give.
“Does she have a working oven?” Tendou inquires pensively.
“I assume so.”
Silently, Tendou paces over to Ushijima’s stove and clicks it off, pretending to fiddle with the knobs and following with an exaggerated gasp, “Well would ya look at that, Wakatoshi. Your oven is broken!”
Ushijima blinks, “I just saw you turn it off.”
“Oh, whatever shall we do? I’ll never be able to prepare these cupcakes for my sweet, adorable, starving niece’s birthday party in these conditions!” The back of Tendou’s hand flies to his forehead melodramatically. When Ushijima offers no solace, he turns up the theatrics, throwing his nimble body in a dramatic faint against the side of his athletic friend whose brute strength prevents him from budging, “Perhaps your kind neighbor would be willing to let us borrow her oven for the next few hours?”
Though Ushijima is well aware he’s playing into Tendou’s dramatics, he believes his best friend to be a hidden genius. They don’t need sugar, so this is the next best excuse to come over. With the redhead in tow, Ushijima steps out of his apartment to knock at your door with his familiar three beat knock.
This time, you answer in two beats, swinging the door open with enthusiasm and showing off that familiar, knee-weakening grin of yours upon seeing Ushijima. The both of you struggle to contain the giddiness fluttering about in your stomachs; never has five days felt longer. Even Tendou can feel the joyful electricity buzzing in the air.
“Hey there, neighbor.” You decide to play it casual as you cross your arms and lean against the doorway, “I was beginning to worry you were getting sugar from someone new.”
He chuckles, “I would never.” He couldn’t possibly want anyone else’s.
Tendou decides to make himself known in the midst of your silent heart-eyed smiles, introducing himself to you energetically yet you have a strange feeling he is also sizing you up. You internally sigh with immense relief when Tendou emphasizes his best friend status.
“Wakatoshi’s oven is broken and I’m trying to bake some cupcakes for my niece’s birthday tomorrow. Could we possibly borrow your oven?”
“Go right ahead.” You beam, allowing the two men inside.
Ushijima takes a prolonged look around your apartment before grinning your way. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Tendou or you that Ushijima is smiling far more than usual. It’s entirely welcome, though a bit of a detriment to your health. Your heart rate accelerates to dangerous speeds with every upcurve of his lips.
“It looks great.”
“Thanks,” you shy away from his proud stare, “I still feel like it’s missing something. But, I can give you a tour of the rest. It’s only three other rooms, but I figured you’d maybe like to see more than just my kitchen.”
“I’d like that.”
A strange part of him feels like he knows you better already just from the various decor and set ups you show him throughout your apartment. It makes him feel at ease; you make him feel at ease, despite the way he suddenly struggles for air when you stand so close to him.
As the two of you return to the kitchen, sitting at your island and quietly observing Tendou preparing the cupcakes, you slip out a probing question, “So is he the one you’ve been getting my sugar for?”
He nods simply, “He’s a chocolatier. Incredible with anything that involves sweets.” There’s an unreadable expression on your face as Ushijima stares at you. He can’t help but want to decipher it, “What is it?”
“Nothing, I’m just,” you laugh, unable to look at him, “I don’t know, relieved?”
“What for?”
Still shying away, you quietly admit, “A part of me was worried it was maybe for a significant other…”
Ushijima ponders over that notion. What had made you worry over that? He had never said anything about having one, did he? Why does your relief that he doesn’t have a significant other make him feel elated?
His silence offers you mixed signals. Whispering lower, you ask frantically, “He’s not your significant other, right?”
“He wishes he could get this,” Tendou joins into the conversation with a smirk, “I’m too much for him to handle though. Where are your oven mitts?”
Ushijima watches as you help Tendou find the oven mitts, grab the cupcakes from the oven, then assist in icing them. The two of you carry on a conversation with ease. He wishes he could do the same. Instead, he quietly observes the way you laugh at his best friend’s antics, hum appreciatively as you taste the icing, and shoot Ushijima an amused look when Tendou spills yet another embarrassing story about the 6’2 volleyball robot. He doesn’t look away when you catch him staring, simply because he can't look away from you. Not when you are this enchanting — all giggly and carefree as you stuff your face with a cupcake. There’s a little icing leftover at the corner of your mouth when you smile at him and his heart thumps loudly in his chest as he’s never wanted a taste of chocolate icing more in his life.
“When were you going to tell me you were a famous athlete?” You nudge Ushijima with your shoulder and a tingling sensation lingers in the wake of your contact. The shoulder is an odd place for butterflies, but they are welcome there.
“I’ve been told I am a household name, so I figured you were already aware.”
You laugh unabashedly and Ushijima can’t help but to chuckle beside you, basking in your amusement, wishing somehow he could keep that delighted smile on your face forever.
“I’m neighbors with a famous athlete. That’s pretty cool.”
His subtle smirk drops as that cursed word rings through his head. Though he’s thankful the result of being neighbors is what brought you to him, he realizes that he doesn’t want to be just that to you. You mean more to him than neighborly feelings at this point, maybe he was foolish in hoping you feel the same.
Tendou can sense his deflation, “You’ll have to come to one of his games with me! He’s really a sight to see on that court. A total beast. He once smacked a ball so hard, it completely tore apart at the seams!”
You shoot a coy glance over towards Ushijima, “I’d like to see that.”
Images of you coming to his games instantly flood his mind. Ushijima easily finding you in the crowd next to his best friend, seeing you clapping and cheering wildly for him wearing one of his fan jerseys makes him blush madly from head to toe, on the cusp of combustion. There’s a sense of pride that swells in him, and his fingers begin to twitch, eager for the next game, itching to score point after point, block after block, all under your adoring eyes. He’s never been one to perform for others, but he’s aching to impress you. Tendou grins to himself.
The night reaches an end once the cupcakes are finished and Ushijima catches you yawning. You walk the pair towards your door, thanking Tendou for allowing you to be his taste tester and Ushijima for the company. Painfully aware of his third-wheeling, the redhead escapes back into Ushijima’s apartment to give the two of you a moment, leaving the door cracked for his friend – not because he wants to eavesdrop.
“He’s really fun. A damn good baker too.”
He hums half-heartedly, eyes drifting sideways. His headspace is muddled with emotions after tonight.
“Everything okay, neighbor?”
It explodes out of him before he can even try to stop it, “I don’t want you to call me that anymore. You can call me Wakatoshi instead.”
Your cheeks ache as they stretch into your thousandth smile of the night, “Wakatoshi, huh?” You repeat his name a couple of times as if savoring it, tasting each syllable on your tongue, “Can I shorten it to ‘Toshi?”
The sound of his heart trying to pound out of his chest is deafening, he almost doesn’t hear himself when he mumbles a simple, “That’s acceptable.”
“Well, I had fun tonight. You and Tendou are welcome to come over and bake the next time your oven breaks.” There’s an emphasis on the last word that makes Wakatoshi smile despite himself. “Goodnight, ‘Toshi.”
At this moment, Wakatoshi accepts that he is wholly yours.
Your ‘Toshi.
***
“You’ve got it bad, Wakatoshi. The only other thing I’ve seen you look at like that is a brand new Mikasa volleyball,” Tendou cackles as he pats his friend on the back.
Ushijima holds his head in his hands, attempting to control his breathing as the lull of ‘Toshi in your saccharine voice replays endlessly in his head, “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do, Satori.”
“Well, luckily for you, she’s down just as bad. That charm of yours finally did you a favor.”
Ushijima looks up to his friend, eyes wide, hopeful, “Are you sure? How do you know?”
“You know, there’s a study that suggests that in a room full of people, when you laugh, you tend to look at the person you like the most. Who do you think she was looking at every time she laughed? Scratch that, who do you think she was looking at the whole time we were over there? Need me to give you a hint? He’s tall, dark-haired, totally oblivious that his neighbor has a gigantic crush on him — ”
“That could just mean she likes me more than you.”
“Which means she likes you a whole lot because I’m typically the most liked person in the room,” Tendou flips his imaginary hair over his shoulder for dramatic effect. “But seriously, she looks at you with that same little lovesick look you have in your eyes. I don’t think you need to do anything at this point except go for it.”
“But how do I go for it?”
Tendou smiles, “Whatever feels right in the moment. You’ll know what to do.”
***
Whatever feels right in the moment.
What does that even mean?
Ushijima muses over this advice from Tendou as he arrives at your door, shaking to the bone when he reaches up to knock. There’s a waiver in his rhythm, but you always seem to know when it’s him.
“Hey, ‘Toshi,” you greet adoringly, “I actually don’t have any more sugar. Tendou used it all last night.”
“I’m not here for sugar,” he states simply.
“Well, would you like to come in?”
Nodding, he steps inside yet makes no effort to chat. He simply follows you aimlessly into the kitchen, impatiently waiting for this whatever feels right sensation. As you stare at him curiously, he’s worried he won’t have the courage to manifest such a moment.
Extending his arms out, he hands over the plant he’s carrying, “For you.”
You gratefully accept it with a warm smile, “Thank you. You really didn’t have to.”
He threads his fingers through his hair, “I wanted to give you a housewarming gift. Lucky bamboos are said to bring good luck and prosperity wherever they are grown. You said you felt like your place was still missing something, so I thought this might help. They’re low-maintenance and easy to take care of. But I can always help with...”
The way you’re staring at him with irrefutable fondness makes him choke, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. He won't admit it, but he is hoping to reap the benefits of the bamboo as well.
“I love it, ‘Toshi. Thank you.”
He stands stiff as you go to place the plant in your living room, and though the room does come together with the greenery addition, the true vibrancy comes from the admiring smile you offer him. When you return, you notice he’s remained in his position, staring down at you, unreadable.
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m not sure,” he admits truthfully.
Your brows furrow and you place a hand over his, staring at him with genuine concern, “How can I help?”
The warmth of your hand is far from helping the situation, but he doesn’t want you anywhere else. In fact, he only wants you closer. Is that what feels right? Despite the rapid pace of his heart and prickling of your heat against his skin, he steps forward. Closer.
“I…” he begins, taking another small step nearer, “I want to thank you.”
You gasp lightly as your back catches against your countertop when he takes another step towards you. You’re becoming aware of his massive size this close up and you swallow a hard lump, suddenly flushed and struggling to take in air, “For what, ‘Toshi?”
You say it so innocently, as if you’re unaware that his name spilling from your lips so endearingly sends him into orbit, floating freely and eager to crash into your atmosphere. Are you that oblivious to your effect on him?
“For your kindness. Letting us use your oven, all the sugar you’ve given. I want to thank you. Properly.”
“How…how do you want to do that?” You’re embarrassed by your stammering, but how can you possibly speak clearly when his incredibly warm presence is absorbing the very air you breathe? Does he not know what he does to you?
His large hand reaches up to cup your cheek. Heating and comforting and exciting you to your very core. The flurry of emotions leaves you dizzy but he’s there to keep you steady. Keeping you close, pulling you in with his gravity.
Whatever feels right in the moment.
“How would you like me to thank you?” He whispers, and there's a hint of a tease laced in his baritone that surprises you both. Goosebumps become your new skin as his warm breath fans against your lips.
You smile despite the deafening thumping of your heart located in your eardrums and the fact that you are no longer breathing, “I can think of one way…”
Olive colored eyes stare intently at you behind long lashes.
Whatever feels right in the moment.
You'll know what to do.
His lips find yours effortlessly, molding against them like two puzzle pieces at last connecting. It’s experimental at first, the way his lips push against yours. Kissing you slowly once, twice, before pulling you into him as his lips begin their fervent exploration of your own. This doesn’t just feel right, it feels meant to be as you sigh lovingly against his lips, fingers caressing the undercut at the base of his neck, sending electric chills up and down his spine. His hands drop to grip at your waist, maintaining respect but keeping you firm in his hold, terrified you’ll disappear if he even thinks about letting go.
Time is simply a man-made construct as he loses all sense of it, getting lost in your kisses, shivering and moaning as your tongues meet curiously before entangling together in your heated mouths. Your fingers thread through his hair to pull him impossibly closer, never wanting his lips to abandon his newfound home against yours. There's a sense of urgency that washes over the two of you as the reality of the situation settles in; the taste, touch, sound, and smell of each other in this intimate exchange becoming dangerously addictive as you nip at his bottom lip and he squeezes the flesh of your hips with a low groan.
It's nearly unbearable to pull away, wishing you could just ignore the burning in your lungs that crave the air you've consumed so desperately from one another. Chests heaving and eyes fluttering dreamily, Wakatoshi traces his thumb along your swollen bottom lip while you sigh into his gentle touch.
“You taste even sweeter than sugar,” Wakatoshi rests his forehead against yours and smiles.
Though you want to tease him for being so horribly cheesy you smile back, grabbing his face between your hands and brushing your lips against his, “That was just for the first bag. I need to be thanked for the other two and for letting you use my oven, don’t you think?”
Riddled with adrenaline and ecstasy far more rewarding than any match victory, Wakatoshi lifts you up to sit you atop the counter and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling you flush against him, “I’ll thank you however many times you want.”
He grins against your lips as you laugh giddily and throw your arms around his neck, melting into his kiss and entrapping him in a long overdue warm embrace.
He’ll be sure to thank Satori and the lucky bamboo later.