Work Text:
Tsukishima was not planning to fall asleep. There was a distance that he put between you, it was polite and it was acceptable. Anything as long as he could make sure that you really were back to sleep.
It was safe to say that it was unsafe to fall asleep in your presence. Both times he was close to sleep and in a deep sleep you managed to leave him.
The silence in your room grew to the point that he felt his ears ringing. Could it just be the quiet neighborhood? Tsukishima couldn’t even hear birds chirping from the outside. All he could do was focus on the sound of your breathing so that the ringing wouldn't start to irritate him.
In the darkness wrapped in silence, his eyes began to wander to the silhouette of your furnitures. If you weren’t going to share about yourself today, Tsukishima was simply going to observe and collect his own data.
With the only sunlight coming from the gap he left in the curtain he made out the outline of your work desk against the far right side of the room. Pushed all the way to a corner.
There were traces of how messy the contents of your desk was. A few objects including pile after pile of books were on the floor. Some of them if he had to guess, was dropped and left there forever.
You hadn't been able to fall back asleep right away.
At some point when you felt him shifting behind you everytime he put his attention somewhere else in your room, the sleep sort of just lingered without any real meaning to overtake you.
It didn’t feel uncomfortable. You knew what Tsukishima was doing.
He'd done this before in high-school, instead of maybe striking up a boring conversation which you would have much preferred to him bringing up random facts about yourself against you, ones you didn’t even realized exist.
You used to always wondered why he couldn't simply shut up and do his job from a distance.
“Kei.” You finally reached behind you. Until your palm rested on his upper thigh.
Tsukishima froze. You continued bringing your hand up until it laid flat on his stomach.
On his skin. You’d slipped your hand easily beneath his sweater, cold to the touch. Pressing down and feeling around like you were siphoning his energy.
“Did I wake you?” Tsukishima spoke. Making sure his voice didn’t sound too nervous. Nor too reluctant. He couldn't make up whether he wanted you to stop or to continue.
“I couldn’t sleep.” You whispered. To his bigger fear, you began to turn toward him like his interaction had meant an invitation for you to play.
He really should’ve closed the curtains completely…
“Are you hungry? Do you want me to order something?” Tsukishima still tried to redirect the conversation somewhere else
“Mhm…” You slowly sat up.
A part of him feared that you were going to leave again but your hand stayed on his skin, in fact going higher. He felt the heat rising to his chest as if it was waiting and anticipating your touch.
When he found your eyes, you were already looking down at him. Doe eyed and blinking curiously. How you were able to look the innocent one while comitting the most sly little temptation on him was getting under his skin.
He licked his lower lip. Catching your hand and sitting up.
Still holding your hand in his, just in case you were keeping strange ideas.
“I’m not doing anything while you are recovering Y/N.” The edge of your brow twitched at his claim.
Damn it.
Wrong thing to say.
“Not even a short kiss?” You and your addicting voice should be…
“Not even,” He gulped. You were prowling again. And in the dark of the room all he could see was your lips. Pale. The only hint of red coming from a scrape that you had gotten, falling against the pavement.
He really should’ve held both of your hands down. The other one was slithering up to his neck and pulling him down so easily.
Tsukishima told himself he was worried for the scrape.
“Not even a kiss?” You repeated. Barely a low whisper, looking right into his eyes.
This definitely was not the time to be kissing.
He hadn’t even been able to get you to talk to him about what had happened in the past years that you ended up needing to hurt yourself. Hadn’t even established what he had really meant when he asked you to let him stay.
He didn’t know if this was a good idea.
What was even a good idea?
The first day he approached you in highschool because your father had chosen him by sheer coincidence, and requested for Tsukishima’s friendly cooperation in making sure you were being a good student. Which your father would then fairly compensate. Nothing he did after that had ever been a good idea.
He couldn’t turn the offer down when his single mother wasn’t able to even look him in the eyes whenever he brought up the discussion of attending university.
The solution had come to him on a silver plater with a bow on top.
He hated himself as much as you hated himself, when you finally saw the guy your father had picked of all people at the school.
Did he deserve to touch you on the cheek, softly, like you would break from the humbleness and dirtiness of a poor man grappling to survive?
Did he deserve to inhale in the same breath as you, leaning down until he felt your hair tickling his jaw?
Did he deserve to kiss you slowly? Like he did truly find himself falling in love? Tasting your blood on his tongue?
Other people may point at him and call it guilt.
Did it matter?
So what if it was devotion to satisfy you with all the truth you deserved?
If he dedicated all his life to it, to you, would it even matter if it was guilt or love?
Would it have looked any different if he was kissing you so fiercely and holding you so closely?
Wasn’t he simply paying his debt by making you sigh in his arms?
There was no good idea.
He knew then. He carefully lifted you onto his lap, not even for a second breaking himself away from the kiss.
He may be a greedy little poor man still, somewhere in there, who got a taste of the heaven he did not deserve and could not stop. Somebody would have had to get him by the arms to peel him off of you.
The only time he pulled back was when you pushed him away for air.
“I’m not doing anything.” He murmured.
You giggled. The sound at first relieved the tension in his chest like a good promise, before catching his very heart in a vice-like grip.
No amount of dirt and dust could erase your wealthy upbringing, it shone in the way your eyes looked at him in a mix of wonder and, to his pleasure, confidence,
That you owned him.
All to yourself.
For however long you pleased.
And when the day eventually came that you would release him, he would still be here. Waiting for you to pick him again.
He lowered you onto your back because he wanted to make sure you weren’t overexerting yourself.
He wasn’t going to do anything that would hurt you. He was simply going to kiss you all over your body while he had the chance. Leaving his marks on your skin to show the world that you already had a good faithful servant who would give anything to make you smile.
Because he loved you.
You were whimpering softly when his hand had sneaked its way beneath your gown and further down. His own gut swirling with the thrill that came from you letting someone like him touch you this way.
And he loved you.
Your sweet voices danced in his mind, fuelling his reckless faith.
He did love you.
So for you, he would get his hands bloody. For he was willing to kill that useless little boy of reasons if he got in the way of his worship.
He loved you so.
He would commit the unimaginable so you could be beautiful and pure. His wealth, his place in the world, now he understood how your father's order never did have a limit.
He loved you.
Now he understood that he had earned enough of everything to serve you correctly.
By your side.
You rested your hand on his shoulder. Tsukishima placing warm kisses on your inner thighs. His bigger palms slowly but steadily pulling them apart. His lower lip brushing over every old wound on your skin.
Your finger slipped into his hair, feeling his hot breath closer to your cunt. He didn't know he was going to be the first man you had let to come this close, this urgently.
Doubt flashed in your mind, jolting your body away from him. But Tsukishima was working.
He firmly pulled you back toward his face. You felt him on you, where no one had ever been before. His lips, his tongue, the tip of his nose brushing on your clit.
Gasping, all you could do was grab a handful of his hair. He groaned against you, the vibration blurring your vision.
He was tasting you like it finally quenched his thirst.
God, He loved you.
How much,
I...
Love you.