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It's a good thing Kei isn't claustrophobic, because damn, this closet is small. His head is bent uncomfortably against a shelf and he can barely make out anything in the dark. He wonders if his other senses are trying to make up for not being able to see by going into overdrive or if it’s just their awkward position that makes him so painfully aware of everything.
They’re pressed into each other’s spaces, not quite touching, but it’s a close thing; Kei has to lean in right next to Yamaguchi’s head, and in the stifling heat, Yamaguchi’s breath feels even hotter where it puffs against Kei’s shirt.
At least it's Yamaguchi, Kei thinks, though he supposes he’d have more space if it was Hinata or one of the first years in here with him. Saito might even fit on the shelf.
Plus, if it wasn't Yamaguchi, Kei’s heart wouldn't be trying to exit his body through his throat right now.
He wants to focus on something else, like the muffled music seeping in through the door, but it’s drowned out by Yamaguchi’s soft breathing and Kei’s own heartbeat.
He hears Yamaguchi's fingers softly dragging against the door, and he thinks he can guess what Yamaguchi might be doing: he thinks back to countless memories of an anxious Yamaguchi tracing shapes into his desk, the gym floor, sometimes Kei’s back. Is he nervous too?
Kei stifles the urge to reach out.
“It's just a stupid game, you know. We don't really have to do anything,” he says instead, and he can feel Yamaguchi’s hair brush lightly against his cheek as he speaks.
It is a stupid game, but the thought of sharing his first kiss with Yamaguchi right now makes Kei’s heart race. Even if it’s in a cramped closet, while he can hear their teammates laughing outside. Even if it’s just because of a stupid game.
The thought catches Kei off-guard — he’s wanted to kiss Yamaguchi for what feels like forever, but he’d always pictured something more… genuine, as embarrassing as it’d be to admit it. Not that it really matters; Yamaguchi will take the out Kei’s just offered him, and Kei will go back to dreaming about kissing his best friend.
Except Yamaguchi isn’t reacting. Kei starts to panic; he'd expected Yamaguchi to huff a relieved laugh, to brush it off, something. Does this mean Yamaguchi never even considered that they'd kiss in here? Did Kei just embarrass himself completely by even suggesting—
Yamaguchi moves, tilting his head up to Kei’s ear, and his hair tickles Kei’s face again.
“Ah, no, it’s okay. We can…” Yamaguchi sounds breathless and unsure, but Kei feels a hand settle on his waist gingerly, pressing soft warmth into his side, and Kei lets himself hope for a second that maybe this is more than a stupid game to Yamaguchi too, that maybe this is real.
Kei draws back so that their faces are lining up, and swallows. He all but whispers, “I guess…”
He starts to lean in, but stops almost immediately, not even halfway to Yamaguchi; he feels frozen in place, too nervous to close the small gap between them. But Yamaguchi does it for him, tilting his head up to touch his lips to Kei’s tentatively, his hand tightening on Kei’s waist. The kiss is feather light, barely there, but Kei is sure he's never experienced anything with such intensity before.
His eyes fall closed and his own lips start to move against Yamaguchi’s instinctively, and soon Yamaguchi is doing the same, their lips pressing together in soft pecks.
Kei leans further into Yamaguchi’s space, easing him back and working a hand between Yamaguchi and the smooth, warm surface of the door, splaying his fingers on Yamaguchi’s back, while his other hand moves to hold Yamaguchi’s jaw gently. He can feel Yamaguchi’s every movement under his hands, like the shift of his shoulder blades when he grips Kei’s waist with his other hand too, or the way his jaw works when he parts his lips to kiss Kei again and again, dragging his lower lip over Kei’s.
Yamaguchi's lips are soft, softer than Kei could have ever imagined, even though he knows Yamaguchi likes to use chapstick, has watched him apply it countless times, could recall the sound of Yamaguchi smacking his lips afterwards like he could his favourite song. He faintly wonders if he might have been able to taste the chapstick if they'd started playing just a little earlier, before he and Yamaguchi shared that bowl of popcorn. But this is incredible, it's perfect.
He’s perfect.
Kei is still lost in the sensation when he feels Yamaguchi’s hands on his waist shift slowly higher, one settling on the back of Kei’s neck, the other tangling in his hair and making him inhale sharply. Yamaguchi smiles, and Kei feels a puff of air hit his face. His own hand, the one on Yamaguchi’s jaw, starts stroking his cheek, and Kei wishes he could see the freckles under his thumb.
Yamaguchi sighs against him, soft, and Kei fits Yamaguchi’s lip between his own, kissing it wetly, letting his teeth graze it as he angles his head. Yamaguchi draws back a little, and Kei wants to follow, wants to press his lips against Yamaguchi’s, wants to feel him for as long as possible, but Yamaguchi’s already pulling him back in, kissing him again, exhaling, “Tsukki…”
There’s a loud thud outside, and Tanaka-san’s roaring laughter filters in through the door, immediately followed by Hinata and Kageyama’s yelling.
Yamaguchi jumps, his nose bumping Kei’s, and Kei is jolted back to reality.
They pull apart, leaning back slightly, and Kei tries to ground himself. They couldn’t have been kissing for more than a minute (... right?), but Kei feels breathless and dizzy, and he wonders if it’s because they’ve used up all the oxygen in the small closet, or if kissing Yamaguchi just does this to him, makes him feel all soft and light-headed.
Yamaguchi huffs a nervous little laugh. It’s beautiful, familiar, and Kei can feel Yamaguchi’s jaw shift where his hand is still resting on it.
The touch is suddenly too intimate now that they’re no longer kissing, and Kei knows he should just pull away, stop touching Yamaguchi, stop making things awkward, but he can only let his hand slip slowly down Yamaguchi’s cheek, caressing it lightly.
Yamaguchi starts to draw back further, his hands leaving Kei too (don’t), and the pads of his fingers graze the sensitive hairs on the back of Kei’s neck.
He looks up into Yamaguchi’s face for the first time since they got locked in here. He wants to see Yamaguchi, even if the angle makes the stupid shelf press into his neck. He can see Yamaguchi angle his head towards him too but he can’t make out his features, and he wonders if Yamaguchi can see him better. He wonders what his face tells Yamaguchi, wonders if he can read the tension, the awe, the sheer adoration written plainly on it (he’s so good at that). The thought makes him feel exposed and vulnerable, but he licks his lips and leans in again, and his heart skips a beat when Yamaguchi immediately moves towards him too.
This time they meet in the middle, hastier than before, and the moment Kei’s lips are back on Yamaguchi’s, he’s flooded with sensation all over again. He feels hands low on his back, pulling him closer still, blunt nails dragging on his shirt, until he’s flush against Yamaguchi.
The kisses are wetter now, more open, and Kei is catching Yamaguchi’s every exhale, each kiss hungrier than the last, their sounds loud and obscene in his ears. It occurs to him vaguely that he should be embarrassed, but he can’t bring himself to care, not when Yamaguchi is so obviously into it too — the thought makes hope bloom warm in his chest, and Kei thinks, maybe this is real.
Yamaguchi tilts his head to the other side, and his nose bumps Kei’s. His hair falls across his face, soft strands tickling Kei’s cheek, and Kei reaches up to gently brush them behind Yamaguchi’s ear.
Yamaguchi grabs his wrist lightly, and lets his forehead rest against Kei’s as he starts, “Ah, Tsukki…”
He trails off, sounding nervous. The warmth in Kei’s chest turns cold, freezing him in place, panicked thoughts racing through his mind. Did he give himself away somehow? Was that gesture too tender? Does Yamaguchi want to stop? Does he want to stop because he knows how much Kei loves him and he can’t return his feelings?
Yamaguchi’s hand moves to cover his, and his voice is almost a whisper as he says, “Tsukki, I really like you.”
Kei’s thoughts come to a screeching halt.
“Eh?”
“I really like you,” Yamaguchi repeats, quieter than before, his fingers twitching on Kei’s hand.
Kei blinks slowly.
Time implodes, then bursts again immediately as everything hits Kei all at once. Relief, joy, and love overwhelm him, thrumming under his skin like a bassline, reverberating in his bones and making his knees weak.
“Me too,” he says, throat dry. He swallows. “I really like you too.”
He wants to say more, things like I’ve liked you for so long and you’re so beautiful and you mean so much to me, but his voice feels weird and shaky, and the words inadequate.
“You do?” Yamaguchi sounds just as stunned as Kei feels, and if Kei wasn’t so dazed right now, he might have laughed in disbelief.
“I do.”
“So is this okay?” Yamaguchi asks, still breathless. He lowers their hands, threading his fingers with Kei’s, and Kei feels contentment and affection wash over him. He’s gotten used to his heart exploding every time Yamaguchi casually grabs his hand to help him up or to show him something cool, but this feels different. Yamaguchi’s movements are shy and careful, and they remind Kei of the times Yamaguchi used to sneak his hand into Kei’s late at night when they were little kids.
Kei doesn’t answer, only runs his thumb over Yamaguchi’s. “Can I kiss you again?” he asks instead.
Yamaguchi tilts his head up and presses in closer to Kei, so close that his lips brush Kei’s as he breathes, “Yes.”
Yamaguchi’s lips are still parted when Kei kisses him again, and as they start moving against each other, their lips fitting together like it’s the most natural thing in the world, Kei feels fireworks go off in his chest. They kiss slowly for what feels like hours, all tender pecks and soft sighs until Kei feels dizzy with them. Their other kisses were nothing like this; the knowledge that this is something they both want, that Yamaguchi likes him too, that this is real, makes excitement rush through his entire body.
He chases the feeling, pushing farther into Yamaguchi’s space, kissing him harder, pressing him up against the door as Yamaguchi clutches at his shirt. Yamaguchi is making small sounds of encouragement that Kei knows he will be mentally replaying for weeks, and they drown out everything until all Kei can think is more.
Yamaguchi’s tongue grazes his lips, shy and tentative, sending electricity all the way to Kei’s fingertips. He parts his lips, practically melts for Yamaguchi, and—
Hinata’s annoyingly chipper, sing-songy voice interrupts them, making both of them jump. “Ya-ma-guchi! Tsukishima! Time’s up!”
Kei tries in vain to regain his senses. He’s still breathless and light-headed after their kiss, lost in a tide of emotions. Yamaguchi’s warmth surrounds him, and Kei wants to drown in it.
Through the dull haze he realizes that his hand is still absently caressing Yamaguchi’s back, the fabric of his shirt soft under Kei’s fingers. He knows he should let go, not keep them in this tiny, hot closet for any longer than necessary, but what was stifling and awkward just seven minutes ago now feels intimate and comfortable.
He lets the hand linger a little longer.
“I guess we should go back,” Yamaguchi finally says with a bashful giggle, turning to open the door.
His hold on Kei’s hand loosens, but Kei pulls him back in for one last peck before he could let go. Yamaguchi kisses back, smiling against Kei’s lips.
“Yamaguchi! Tsu-ki-shi-ma-aa! Come onnnn,” Hinata yells, banging on the door for good measure.
“Tsukki, we really should go,” Yamaguchi says, and Kei can still hear the smile in his voice.
“Fine,” Kei sighs, fully aware that he sounds like a petulant child. It's okay, though; Yamaguchi’s had to put up with his pouting for years, and not only is he still his best friend, he likes Kei, petulance and all.
Yamaguchi opens the door, and Kei follows him out into the hallway.
For a few seconds, everything is new and disorienting, as if Yamaguchi’s proximity had been the only thing grounding Kei. Suddenly there’s too much space around him, and he misses the soft pressure of Yamaguchi’s body.
He doesn’t even get a chance to let his eyes adjust to the harsh light of the hallway before Hinata starts babbling at them at the speed of sound, shooting questions and stray observations that make Kei flush.
“How was it! Did you actually kiss? Wow, Tsukishima, you’re like, really red—” Hinata stops suddenly, his eyes going wide. He puffs himself up with a sharp intake of breath, vibrating in place with his hands balled up into fists, and Kei braces himself for one of Hinata’s outbursts.
“UOOOOHH!” Hinata’s eyes sparkle with excitement as he jumps from one foot to the other, now pointing at their linked hands.
Oh. Kei had somehow forgotten about that. He glances at Yamaguchi’s fingers laced with his, and the same contentment from before floods through him.
“Does this mean you’re together now? Wait, were you together before? I always thought—”
Yamaguchi cuts Hinata off before he can finish that thought. “No, uh… we weren’t, um, together before.”
“But you are now, right? Congratulations!” Hinata beams at them, just as happy and excited as he is after wins, and Kei feels a sudden rush of fondness for him.
He looks away, flustered, but there's a smile tugging at his lips as he says, “Thanks.”
Yamaguchi’s shoulders relax next to him, and when Kei turns to look at him fully, Yamaguchi gives him a gentle smile and squeezes his hand. Something warm and light settles in Kei’s chest, clicking into place quietly as he thinks, together.
He squeezes back.