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Yamaguchi doesn't like when others call his best friend Tsukki. Only he can call him Tsukki. And everyone knows this, so they don't, but sometimes it slips out when they get a bit desperate. Like when they want Tsukishima to help them study and they're running out of cards in their deck.
"C'mon, Tsukki, help us just one more time!" Hinata cries from where he steps into his shoes in Tsukishima's hallway.
From beside him, Kageyama smacks him upside the head and pulls him toward the doorway by the collar. He yells, "You haven't learned yet, huh, dumbass?"
Thanks, Kageyama, Yamaguchi thinks. Leave it to him to reign in his boyfriend.
Because Yamaguchi doesn't like it when others call his friend by his nickname—by Tsukki. Unfortunately, though, Yamaguchi can't hold it against Hinata, because he's also a friend. Instead, he'll simply take some breaths, move on, and—
"You can ask him for help studying again later, Hinata, good night!" Grinning much too widely, Yamaguchi pushes his orange-haired friend out into the night and moves to slam the door before they get another word in.
"Wait," Kageyama yells, "I forgot my—"
"Good night!" With that, the pair are gone. Yamaguchi leans his head against the door and tries (fails) to re-center himself.
So much for just some breaths, he thinks.
When he finally turns around, Tsukishima's waiting in the hallway with his hands in his pockets. Yamaguchi takes in the man's cotton shirt and plaid pants and he fights the urge to run up to him and bury himself in his arms. Sure, he's known Tsukishima since they were kids, and sure, he's seen him in pajamas thousands of times since—but it's a sight Yamaguchi selfishly hopes to keep as close to himself as he can, forever.
No—not forever, an errant thought reminds him. One more year and he'll slip away from me.
That's enough to sour the mood.
"You practically ran them out the door, didn't you?" Tsukishima teases.
Yamaguchi tries to tamp his rising blush. "No," he replies, taking the chance to look down for his shoes. Ah, there they are. "They were going to keep asking you to help them study this year. And it's getting pretty late—and it's almost time for dinner, so I figured they could keep harassing you about it on Monday!"
Good! Quick thinking, Yamaguchi!
Yamaguchi slips his shoes on and looks up at Tsukishima, but the taller man's already grinning at him, and Yamaguchi knows he knows. He sighs. "Anyway, I'll see you in the morning, Tsukki!"
"Wait!" Tsukishima calls before he can slip out the door. "You're not staying tonight?"
The truth is, Yamaguchi hadn't even considered it. It's a Friday, and usually he'd sleep over, but Yamaguchi just had a blatantly ape-shit, Tsukki's-mine-get-away-from-him moment and he's feeling pretty embarassed. And honestly, he's been the most existential he's ever been; their third year at Karasuno had just begun that week, and all he could think about was that this would be their last first Friday of the school year, their last first Friday of the school year without volleyball practice, their last first Friday of—and so on.
So no, he wasn't planning to stay tonight. His plan was to escape when Hinata and Kageyama left, but he'd kicked them out before he even had a chance to—leave it to him to sabatoge his own plans. Now he had no plan and he was left with Tsukishima's golden eyes behind thick frames and those arms he wanted to jump into. And truthfully, while he planned to cry alone in his room that evening, Yamaguchi can think of nothing he wants more—needs more—than spending more time with his Tsukki. After all, avoiding him would only sour their fleeting time together.
From the hallway, Tsukishima stares at the ceiling and shuffles his feet along the wood floor. He's getting more nervous, Yamaguchi can tell, but he doesn't know what Tsukishima's worried about. "I mean—you said it. It's getting late, so maybe you could stay for dinner and we can…"
No matter the years they've spent together, Tsukishima flits his eyes away asking Yamaguchi to stay—and Yamaguchi would be lying if he said it wasn't endearing the crap out of him right now, like it always does.
Yamaguchi beams. "Okay, Tsukki, I'll stay for dinner!"
Tsukishima lets out a long breath, and Yamaguchi smiles even wider.
I'll stay for dinner, I'll stay for the weekend, I'll stay for you as long as you want me to, Tsukki.
A knife stabs at his throat, but he swallows it and smiles until he grimaces. He can't help but think that this next year before graduation will hurt like a bitch—but like any auto crash, he just can't look away. How could he when the dumpster fire that is his feelings revolves around the tall, bespectacled boy standing only feet away from him?
Yamaguchi makes light, meaningless babbles of a far-off conversation, staving the premature grief bubbling toward the surface as he heads deeper into Tsukishima's house.
Not yet, Yamaguchi resolves with a set of his shoulders. We're not done yet.
Honestly, Hinata and Kageyama had been third- (and fourth?) wheels to Yamaguchi and Tsukishima's plans that Friday; and since Coach Ukai had properly scared them in their first year with volleyball camp, Hinata and Kageyama seemingly had hoped to get the jump on studying by getting help from the other pair. Yamaguchi generally tends to cave almost immediately (and he's team captain, it's his responsibiity to help!), but Tsukishima is much harder to pry open; so much so that Hinata and Kageyama could spend the entire afternoon practically waiting on his every need—which they did—and he still wouldn't crack—and he didn't.
(Obviously, Yamaguchi knew he'd agree eventually, and the pair probably knew it too—but it was a matter of when he'd help, not if.)
In any case, Yamaguchi knew how important this last year of volleyball was for Hinata and Kageyama, and he'd never threaten it by preventing them from keeping on track with their studies, so he let them wait on Tsukishima like servants and spend the last few hours of sunlight cooling him with palm leaves.
And Yamaguchi would never take his friends for granted—Hinata and Kageyama are some of his best friends, after all, and he's not sure how he'd suffice in school, let alone volleyball, without them.
But—and it's an easy but—he'd also never argue that he prefers their group hangouts to his alone time with Tsukishima.
Hinata and Kageyama gone, Yamaguchi gets Tsukishima all to himself—and it scratches at some barely-concealed itch left from way back when cavemen marked their territory.
Alone with him, Yamaguchi knows a totally different Tsukishima than the rest of the team. He knows Tsukki, his childhood friend and comfort that brushes Yamaguchi's hair in the mornings; Tsukki, who pretends to be interested in Yamaguchi's conspiracy theories when he really isn't; and Tsukki, who genuinely smiles at Yamaguchi's floundering instead of giving the same sharp grin he gives everyone else.
All barriers are gone when Tsukishima is just Tsukki.
And Yamaguchi absolutely revels in the fact that he's Tsukishima's comfort, too, enough that he wants to rub it in everyone's faces like his freaky caveman urge tells him to, but won't because it'll only encourage them to try for the same treatment. Yamaguchi's proud that Tsukishima, the hard nut to open with others, is lightyears of a distance more open with Yamaguchi than anyone else.
So when dinner with Tsukishima quickly becomes a movie, movie becomes a movie night, and a nighttime documentary turns to Tsukishima leaning against the wall of his bed while he cards his fingers through Yamaguchi's hair, Yamaguchi knows he's too far gone—too deep in, more like—to even attempt to rationalize their impending graduation.
Lying on his side, watching in his periphery as Tsukishima dozes against the wall with his hands still in his friend's hair, Yamaguchi can't help but think that he won't have this when they graduate. When the day finally comes, when they finally leave Karasuno, the pair will be too far from each other to walk side-by-side every morning—and Tsukishima, Yamaguchi can't help but think, will be distant enough to be gone.
Yamaguchi winces just from the thought of it.
Tsukishima must feel it, because his hand stop moving in his hair. He looks over at Yamaguchi with hazy, unfocused eyes. So cozy, Yamaguchi thinks. "Are you alright? You got tense all of the sudden."
Yamaguchi laughs dismissively. "It's nothing, but you'll wake up sore in the morning if you keep sleeping like that. How 'bout we finish the documentary tomorrow?"
"Mm'kay," Tsukishima murmurs, easily persuaded, and quickly slides down into his covers. Chuckling, Yamaguchi closes the laptop between them and places it on the nightstand before sliding in next to him. The two of them never outgrew sleeping in the same bed together; they'd done it as children, and nearly every sleepover it seemed like more work than it was worth to get the spare futon from the closet (at least, that's what Yamaguchi told himself).
Lately though, Tsukishima's been more cuddly than usual, and it's threatening to rip Yamaguchi's heart from his chest with how much he loves it. Loves it, loves him—but he'd never tell, anyway. Tsukishima's always been so normal about them, like the daily hangouts, frequent sleepovers, and the snuggles are perfectly situated—and they're just what friends do. Yamaguchi won't risk it all falling apart by getting greedy.
When Yamaguchi settles into the bed, Tsukishima wraps his arm around him and leans his nose into his friend's neck.
Fuck.
—It's normal, Yamaguchi. Perfectly normal! He convinces himself. Normal, normal…
"You're not alright," Tsukishima breathes against his neck. Yamaguchi fights how good the warm tide of air feels, fights to keep his length from growing in his shorts.
He feels lips just barely brush his nape before pulling away.
Fuuuuuck.
He knows Tsukishima didn't mean to, that he's just tired and not thinking properly, but Yamaguchi can't help but wonder if he'd be like this if they were dating. If they were more—if their normal was lips against napes and fingers brushing t-shirt hems.
He shakes his head to clear his thoughts. "Sorry, Tsukki," he begins. "I'm just thinking."
Yamaguchi feels the covers move behind him. "It can't wait 'til the morning?" Tsukishima mumbles.
"No," Yamaguchi sighs, feeling brave in the dark room. "That's exactly the problem. Tomorrow is—tomorrow."
Nothing moves, and it scares him—is he saying too much? So much that there's nothing more to say?—but if Yamaguchi closes his eyes, he can pretend he's curled up in his own bed, confessing to his journal like any other odd day. That's exactly what he did.
"Tsukki, things will change tomorrow. I mean, not really tomorrow, but in the future, y'know? We've got one more year of school together, and then you'll leave for a college far from here—far from me, I mean—and we won't have any of this anymore. You'll be gone and I'll be here, waiting for a friend that might not come back. You'll want more—you deserve it, I mean—and who am I to hold you back from it?"
Nothing.
Yamaguchi's eyes are shut so tight he's dizzy. Hands covering his face, he wonders if he just blew it all, making them awkward and ruining their friendship and—shit, did that sound like a love confession, in any way at all? Can Tsukishima tell that he loves him? The silence drags on, and Yamaguchi's heart pounds in his ears as he prays that his friend fell asleep somewhere between his "tomorrow" and "I love you, Tsukki, I need you." No, no, no this wasn't supposed to happen, not now and not ever. He can't know that I—
Yamaguchi feels strong hands on his shoulders twist him onto his other side, twisting him to face Tsukishima. He doesn't say anything for a while, and with the dark of the room Yamaguchi can feel his friend's stare move across his face with ten times the intensity than if he were to watch it.
And Yamaguchi sure as hell isn't going to open his mouth again unprompted, so he waits for Tsukishima to speak.
What he gets is a soft utterance. "Tadashi."
That's nice, Yamaguchi thinks. All breathy and sleepy and so close to him that it's intimate. But… he also sounds upset. Yamaguchi's throat catches.
"Sorry, Tsukki. That was too much—"
"No, Tadashi, don't apologize, I'm just surprised that after all these years you still don't get it." His voice is louder now, his grip on Yamaguchi's shoulder tightening enough that Yamaguchi knows it'll leave a mark. He doesn't mind. "After so many years—after this friendship literally began with you following me around, every minute of every day and damn-near studying me—you still don't know a thing about me, huh?"
He continues. "You think that I was planning on leaving you the minute we graduated—that I'd even leave you at all?" His voice cracks at the end, and Yamaguchi can hear him swallow like it hurts.
"That line should be mine, by the way—you should be tired of me, not the other way around."
What?
Yamaguchi's never been so dizzied. Hewants to interject, but Tsukishima stops him with another squeeze to his shoulder. "But this isn't about me, so don't worry about it. I don't want things to change, either, and I'm not going to abandon you after high school, Tadashi. I don't even plan to go very far, anyway, so don't think I'll be completely gone. And…" He pauses, and Yamaguchi leans in like he'll hear though the silence if he's closer. "You could come with me if you really wanted to, you know."
There's a hesitation in his last sentence that Yamaguchi wants to quash. Immediately. Yamaguchi raises a hand to pinch the sleeve of Tsukishima's tee. He twiddles the fabric between his thumb and index. If he talks in full volume it'll all feel too real—so instead he whispers, "You want me with you?"
More silence. A car drives by outside, its headlights illuminating the window beside them and offering a quick glance at Tsukishima's face. For a moment, Yamaguchi sees furrowed brows and downturned lips—and a faint redness at his cheeks that must be Yamaguchi's imagination. Tsukishima's eyes are darker when they're lidded, more intense with the weight of sleep (Yes, the weight of sleep, Yamaguchi decides, not what he wishes it could be).
Tsukishima doesn't give a verbal response, but Yamaguchi can feel him nod against the pillows.
Yamaguchi thinks he's flying. He releases a long breath and, trying not to spook the vulnerability from Tsukishima, only nods in response as well.
The air in the bedroom feels lighter. It's much easier to sleep, now.
"Let's talk tomorrow. G'night, Tsukki," Yamaguchi says as he yawns, flipping onto his other side, away from Tsukishima. Yamaguchi doesn't think he could handle risking another car passing and revealing the dark blush across his face and neck (and nevermind the fact that he'd be sleeping facing the man that caused it, and a sleepy Tsukki is a monster of hotness foreign to any scaling system).
"By the way," Yamaguchi whispers, hiding his face in his pillow. "I won't leave you, either."
Tsukishima hums and grabs Yamagushi's t-shirt hem like he's afraid of distance. Yamaguchi doesn't realize he's leaned backwards into the touch until he's nearly flush with Tsukishima's chest and he can feel his sighs tickling his ears.
So much for hiding his blush, he's probably red enough to be found out in the dark, now.
"G'night, Tadashi," is all Tsukishima says, nuzzling into the covers.
With that, they sleep.
Yamaguchi wakes up to the sun flying over the horizon, stinging his eyes with harsh morning light. It's much later than the two usually wake up, but Yamaguchi found a new comfort last night, like everything had locked into place, changed by their conversation, yet nothing had changed at all—and nothing would change between them if they could help it. Yamaguchi doesn't have to worry about Tsukishima packing his bags and abandoning him—and he never did have to. Honestly, Yamaguchi should be worrying more about seeing the worst in his best friend and thinking he was even capable of doing such a thing, but he's not sure that worry will ever go away—Tsukishima's just so… him, so smart and capable, that he deserves much more than what's on their side of Miyagi Prefecture.
But that's a concern for later, anyway.
Right now, Yamaguchi's just resolved the heaviest weight that sat on his shoulders. So while Yamaguchi would've been the first to shoot out of bed yesterday, desperate to enjoy what would have been one of their last weekends together, he was content to laze the morning away, now; to waste some time knowing that they'd share many more together.
And from the looks of it, Tsukishima had the same thought and inches closer to the Yamaguchi's warmth in some half-asleep trance.
So, Yamaguchi falls back into the cushions with a smile and sleeps some more.
His eyelids flutter some time later and he sighs, still hazy from sleep and revelling in the heat close behind him, dampening his shirt with light sweat. He arches a bit in his yawn, and the hardness at his back tells him that he's still dreaming—that Tsukki's knee would never be tangled between his legs and that it isn't real—
"Tadashi." Behind him, Tsukishima lets out a small groan and angles his hips toward Yamaguchi.
Yamagushi gasps and leans into him. "All a dream," he whispers to himself, tilting his head back against Tsukishima's chest in indulgence. Tsukishima drops his forehead to rest on the curve of Yamaguchi's neck.
"You're a dream," Tsukishima repeats, and tightens his arms' hold on Yamaguchi's waist, pulling him impossibly closer and wrapping him in his embrace. "Do that again," he murmurs.
Yamaguchi reaches for something, anything, to hold onto, and raises his hips again, using the knee between his legs for traction. Tsukishima groans and grinds into him, dropping his hands to hold Yamaguchi's hips. Yamaguchi gasps at the contact and arches further into Tsukishima.
He moans, dragging himself along Tsukishima's thick length. He wants more. He wants skin against skin; he wants all of him, to be totally enveloped and gaping for him—but that's a dream for another day. "Ah, Tsukki!"
"Fuck, call me that again," Tsukishima sighs. Tsukishima's knee begins to move, and Yamaguchi's seeing stars by then. There's pressure building at his front, and he's so relentlessly hard it hurts. He doesn't just want more, he needs it. Needs his Tsukki if he wants release; if he wants to breathe at all, any more.
"Tsukki, please, please gimme more—ah!"
Just like that, Tsukishima's hand roves lower to his front, palming him through his pajama shorts. Yamaguchi's desperate now, grasping at Tsukishima's hair with both hands and pulling at the strands as he grinds backwards into him. Tsukishima brushes his lips across Yamaguchi's neck again, laving a wet kiss across the soft skin under his collar.
Tsukishima bites him softly over the cotton of him t-shirt. Yamaguchi gasps and bares more of his neck to him, rocking into Tsukishima with devestating need.
The arm twined around Yamaguchi's waist finds its way inside his shirt, the fabric shucked up by the force of their eager movements. Tsukishima's hand crawls upward, navigating the lines of Yamaguchi's stomach before palming at his chest, nipping at Yamaguchi's neck all the while.
Tsukishima pulls Yamaguchi's shirt collar to the side with his teeth and kisses the skin under it. "Love it when you wear my clothes. So beautiful, it's like you're mine—wait, Tadashi, hold on." Tsukishima shifts to lean on his knee between them and over Yamaguchi. Still clinging to him, Yamaguchi flips onto his stomach with his friend's movement and lets the gravity arch him some more. Now, on his knees, Yamaguchi can send himself further backwards with more force, coaxing sharp breaths from Tsukishima every time they make contact.
He does.
Tsukishima plants a hand on the bed to keep them upright, while his other hand continues stroking Yamaguchi through his shorts.
Yamaguchi's babbling. "Ah, Tsukki—like that, fuck, keep going, harder, Tsukki—Tsukki!"
Tsukishima ruts into Yamaguchi's ass like a starving man, creaks resounding through the quiet bedroom. Yamaguchi grips Tsukishima's head closer to him, burying his face in his neck in a question for more kisses. He goes tumbling onto the mattress, head buried in his pillow while Tsukishima leans over him and grasps his hips and cock with urgency.
"Fuck, Tadashi, you feel so good, look so good—ah, Tadashi!"
Yamaguchi's going insane. Pressure is building across his neck, chest, groin—just everywhere, and he needs Tsukishima everywhere, too. Tsukishima's sleep-coated voice swearing and praising him in his ear, the hand on his shorts that he wishes would move itself under the fabric and fist him, pump him as he fucks into him—Yamaguchi'll come then and there if he keeps going with that train of thought.
Any semblance of time is lost as Tsukishima keeps rutting into Yamaguchi until their limbs are slack and they've been left piled on each other, wildly bucking their hips for more friction, more, more, more—
It's not enough, Yamaguchi thinks. "More, Tsukki, ah, need more!"
Tsukishima's moans in his ear get more erratic as the seconds build, and he massages Yamaguchi's cock with more desperation as his thrusts into the cleft of his ass get more urgent. "Tadashi, I think—I'm gonna—fuck, I'm—"
Yamaguchi whimpers, tears threatening to fall if he doesn't get exactly what he wants then and there—
As Tsukishima strokes the fabric covering Yamaguchi's cock, a slender finger presses at the skin behind it, near his asshole's tight ring of muscles. A shock of heat coarses through him as his hole clenches and, imagining Tsukishima's finger dipping lower into it, that's enough to send Yamaguchi tumbling over the edge.
He's seeing white. "Tsukki, I'm coming!"
"Shit, Tadashi—I'm—"
A shaky breath rattles beside Yamaguchi's ear before Tsukishima twists and bites down on his ear lobe. His hips jerk violently one last time before he keeps his clothed length slotted in the crack of Yamaguchi's ass. Tsukishima groans, and it's guttural with relief.
Yamaguchi melts into the mattress like pudding, too spent to think clearly.
They stay tangled in each other for a few breaths before Tsukishima half-mumbles a "Good morning."
"Mm," Yamaguchi responds, lost in the fuzzy pleasure coursing through him.
Wait—good morning?
…what.
"Crap!" Yamaguchi throws himself out of Tsukishima's hold and lands on the floor, clutching the fibers of the carpet beneath his hands and gaping at the startled man on the bed.
Not a dream, not a dream, not a dream!
He sputters. "You—we—huh?"
Tsukishima doesn't answer immediately, only sits up and—is that… hurt in his eyes? It's only there for a moment, gone just as quickly, but it sends Yamaguchi reeling as he crab-walks backwards in retreat.
Tsukishima's always been a light sleeper, and lucid upon waking, at that. There's no way he didn't realize what was happening between them—but watching him tense as Yamaguchi backs away, his eyes calm as ever, Yamaguchi wonders if Tsukishima's trying to forget.
He schools his expression to a calm one. "Tadashi?" But his voice betrays him; its hoarse with sleep, at a calculated volume, but it's also soft on its edges and unsure at its center.
Yamaguchi thinks he's just fucked it all up.
He makes a couple babbling sounds before he's able to piece words together. "I—um—You—It wasn't a dream," he mumbles, more so rationalizing to himself than to Tsukishima. What they did—it actually happened, and what Tsukishima did…
It was real.
Tsukishima really just touched Yamaguchi's dick. In fact, he humped him from behind and called Yamaguchi beautiful and—
Where do we go from here?
Tsukishima's still watching Yamaguchi as he goes limp on the floor, trying and failing to school his breaths. His shorts are sticky, his heart is racing enough to feel it in his toes, and no matter how hard he tries, he can't help but feel like they can't come back from this.
Not if Tsukishima doesn't love him back.
Tsukishima must already know, or must have just found out, how Yamaguchi feels, that he loves him, and that he wished it wasn't just a dream, and now he won't want him around anymore because it's—
"Tadashi, stop."
He must've said it all aloud. Yamaguchi crashes back down to Earth, taking in his surroundings. Tsukishima's sitting beside him, leaning over his limp body and holding a palm to his cheek, wiping away errant tears. Yamaguchi's lungs are burning. He tries to apologize, but all that comes out is shaky air.
"Through your nose, Tadashi. Breathe through your nose. In, hold, out. Just like that."
So much goes unsaid between them, just like always.
Tsukishima breathes with him, holding Yamaguchi's wide eyes in his gold ones with a gentle embrace. Lips trembling, Yamaguchi finds only honesty in his friend's eyes. He doesn't realize—it's more like he remembers—that Tsukishima would never cut him off so easily; that the warmth of his eyes could never be cold to him. Yamaguchi had so little faith in him up to this point, so little faith in himself, and he would've thrown away their friendship before he ever realized it.
More tears fall, and Tsukishima looks only a little more afraid. But when Yamaguchi smiles at him, when he steels his breath and whispers his name, Tsukishima's expression softens.
Tsukishima dips his head only slightly, a subtle invitation laden with hesitation, but by then Yamaguchi's already met him halfway, pulling him down with a hand at his neck. When their lips meet, Yamaguchi whimpers at the warmth, and he hates that he ever doubted it, doubted him. Tsukishima's swallows his gasps with soft lips, passing his tongue across Yamaguchi's skin as if he were licking away wounds. When Yamaguchi opens his mouth further through sheer instinct, that this is right and exactly how it should be, Tsukishima groans and holds Yamaguchi's face closer to his, breaching Yamaguchi's mouth with tender strokes.
They don't deepen the kiss any more, just learn each other's rhythm and speak every emotion they've repressed until then without the use of words. One more tear falls, but this time, it's because Yamaguchi's happy. He's elated to know that he's had Tsukishima, that they were never an 'if' but a 'when.' That their coming together was inevitable since the first day they met, when Tsukishima protected Yamaguchi from elementary school bullies and continued to save him every day since.
Now, Yamaguchi knows that he saved him, too.
They don't go far when they break apart. They stay pressing their foreheads together, breathing each other in, and it's not awkward at all—there's a mutual understanding in the air that this is their normal. All they've done together during their years of friendship were for this to be their normal.
"Tsukki, I…" Yamaguchi starts, but he can't seem to complete the thought. Where even to begin?
"I know, Tadashi." Tsukishima passes Yamaguchi's earlobe between two fingers and presses a shallow kiss to the side of his mouth. Yamaguchi chases it with a haze across his judgement. As quick as he left that kiss, Tsukushima distances himself enough to look Yamaguchi properly in the eyes. "And…" He's nervous now, looking at a spot behind Yamaguchi. "I love you, too."
Yamaguchi can't help it—he yelps. He knew it by now, the kiss told him all he needed to know, but hearing it come from his Tsukki's mouth was a pair of sounds he'd kill to hear more often. There's a slew of words that come out at once—"Tsukki, I—You—We—Me too! You're so…"—but he suddenly focuses on one part of Tsukishima's confession. "Wait… you love me 'too?'"
Tsukishima sits up and arches a thin brow at him. He must spot the genuine cluelessness on Yamaguchi's face, because he's suddenly barking a laugh in his direction. "You didn't realize? You already told me. Once last night, before you woke up—I got up for water and you were talking in your sleep—and a second time just now, like a minute ago."
Yamaguchi's face and neck instantly go red. He pushes a hand through green hair and rises from the floor. "Aw, crap," he mutters, and looks away while Tsukishima keeps chuckling at him.
Before Yamaguchi can crawl away, preferably to an obscure corner, Tsukishima places a hand around his wrist to keep him close. He's the one looking away now, suddenly serious as he watches their fingers entertwine. "That's why I thought just now—this morning, I mean—you really meant it when you—when we—did that. I thought you really meant what you said last night, and I thought what I'd said was basically a confession, so I didn't think twice about it. But… and I don't regret it, by the way, but I'm sorry if I crossed a line, Tadashi—"
"Tsukki," Yamaguchi interrupts. "It's my turn to tell you to shut up." Tsukishima's eyes widen. "Don't apologize. I don't regret it, either, and you didn't cross any lines I didn't cross first. And…" Yamaguchi shuffles closer to him, grabbing him by the collar and smashing their lips together for only a second, Tsukishima barely chasing the kiss after the fact. He raises his voice at him. "You're really stupid if you think that after all this I didn't mean it! I might've been half-sleeping, but everything I said and did was exactly what I wanted."
He huffs and finally removes his hand from his collar, patting the t-shirt fabric back in place. A shock of awareness courses through him, and his eyes jerk to watch Tsukishima's controlled expression. "Ah! Sorry, Tsukki, I don't know what came over me!"
Tsukishima lets out a long exhale between them and chuckles, almost to himself. "I guess I don't have to hide it anymore. Now that I know you love me, is it a good time to say that you should yell at me more often?"
"What?" Yamaguchi shrieks. "I would never—"
But then he takes in Tsukishima's dilated eyes, parted lips, and red cheeks, and his voice softens. "Maybe every now and then," he hums, leaning into Tsukishima's touch when his chin is tilted up toward him.
"Please yell at me some more," Tsukishima says before taking Yamaguchi in his mouth again.
This time, Yamaguchi's ready and his mouth latches onto Tsukishima's easily, earning a throaty rumble from the taller man as he leans over him. The kiss is messier, more needy than their kiss earlier—whereas the last one was wrought with emotional turbulence, this one is wrought with overwhelming desire. Yamaguchi moans when Tsukishima drops a hand to rest on his waist, bringing his own to roam Tsukishima's chest.
Yamaguchi's been waiting for this for years; he's come in his hand so many times just imagining how Tsukishima's lips might feel—and now, with the real thing, he's stiff in his jeans all over again. Yamaguchi's combing a hand through Tsukishima's hair, lightly pulling at the strands, when Tsukishima breaks the kiss to curse under his breath. Yamaguchi chuckles at the guttural sound and ducks forward to press kisses to Tsukishima's neck, needing more friction—more of Tsukishima.
Tsukishima's head tilts back to let Yamaguchi lead. Yamaguchi graciously accepts the invitation, running his lips and tongue across Tsukishima's jaw, ear, and neck—and he stays right at his collarbone, having found the sweet spot that makes Tsukishima shudder. Pulling his head back with his hand in his hair and bravely inching toward his ear, Yamaguchi crawls further forward until he's straddling Tsukishima. "Hmm, you like it when I yell, when I pull your hair and bite you, huh? Tell me, Tsukki: do you like it rougher?"
"Fuck," Tsukishima curses again. "Yeah—yes. That."
His hands rove down Yamaguchi's back until they push his shorts and trace under the fabric, along the bare skin of his ass. Yamaguchi hums in delight and arches into his hands, lifting his head enough that Tsukishima advances on his neck. He roughly jerks Yamaguchi closer to him and lifs his hips in an upward grind, eliciting a high cry from Yamaguchi's throat.
Before Yamaguchi knows it's possible to feel any better than this, Tsukishima licks up the base of Yamaguchi's throat until he reaches his chin, leaving a small bite at the protruding bone. Kissing the sting away, Tsukishima says, "But don't think I'll just let you do all the work."
If Tsukishima wasn't holding his ass like it was oxygen, Yamaguchi is sure he would've swooned then and there. Somehow still sitting upright, Yamaguchi whimpers.
"Please," he whispers with a broken voice. It's breathy and open, hardly even a word because he can't stop panting, but Tsukishima's quick to take him up on it.
Tsukishima kisses along his jaw before sucking at the dip under his ear, and Yamaguchi bucks his hips for more friction, resting his head in the crook of Tsukishima's neck.
But Tsukishima's exposed neck is so inviting, the muscles at the side of it flexing with his movements, so Yamaguchi doesn't rest for long. He oscillates between lazy passes of his tongue and quick bites, sucking at the skin and panting hot breaths when Tsukishima grinds his hips up again, bouncing Yamaguchi's ass up and down to match him.
"Tsukki!" Yamaguchi yells. He holds Tsukishima's shoulders and arches backwards, pushing his hips further into him. He's never found a better use for his volleyball legs until now, using his muscles to rock himself into and away from Tsukishima's stiff length.
Taking advantage of Yamaguchi's raised head, Tsukishima dives into the skin just under Yamaguchi's jaw and chin, leaving large, open-mouthed kisses on damp skin as he ruts upwards and grinds their clothed cocks together.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to run my lips across you—fuck, Tadashi, just like that."
All Yamaguchi can respond with is a shuddered breath and a broken cry. "Ah!—I need—You're—More, Tsukki!"
Yamaguchi's closer to the edge, deeper in his pleasure, his own stiffness pulsing in a plea for release. More, he gasps—he needs more with Tsukishima to come. And he's so hot, he's got so many layers on, that he can't think straight.
"Wait," he manages, separating just enough to take off his sweaty shirt and throw it across the room, to some obscure and irrelevent corner they might lose the ball of fabric in. Tsukishima's eyes look him over in what Yamaguchi can only describe as base desire and greed—but Yamaguchi can't appreciate it right now. He's swallowed by what he needs, and that's to come soon and now.
He practically crushes Tsukishima's neck between his arms and leads him to his chest. "Kiss me more," he pants, bouncing on Tsukishima's pants with the urgency of a craving hardly satisfied.
More, more, more!
Tsukishima is quick to latch his mouth on Yamaguchi's nipple, sucking and teasing the pink skin with his tongue. "Needy, huh?" he chuckles.
Yamaguchi moans and sends Tsukishima backwards until he's lying on the carpeted floor, using the gravity of his position to slide against Tsukishima's legs and across his entire length. Tsukishima keeps his hands on Yamaguchi's ass, spreading his cheeks and dipping his fingers achingly close to sensitive skin. Yamaguchi whimpers—"More, ah, please—fuck, Tsukki, please!"—and arches his chest harder into Tsukishima's mouth as he bucks his hips with a near-inhumane volition.
"I'm gonna—ah, Tsukki, I'm close!"
"Fuck, Tadashi, me too—I'm coming!"
Tsukishima groans, bites hard on Yamaguchi's nipple, and lightly traces a thick finger over the puffy ring of his asshole, and Yamaguchi's coming in his shorts for the second time that morning. His hips and quads jump from the exertion, and his mind blacks out as he pants atop Tsukishima. He rides the waves of pleasure that shudder through him.
When he comes back to, Tsukishima's still lapping at his puffy nipples. He leaves a soft kiss on the pink skin before he continues brushing his lips upwards, finally passing his tongue into Yamaguchi's mouth again.
Yamaguchi melts over him when they break apart in gasps. "You're all I've ever wanted—all I've ever needed, Tsukki," Yamaguchi mumbles into Tsukishima's neck.
He feels Tsukishima hold him even tighter and pass a quick peck on his sweat-damp hair. "We're such idiots," Tsukishima sighs. Yamaguchi can't help but hum in agreement at that.
"There's a good chance I've loved you just as long, Tadashi. I doubt I'll ever not want you around."
Yamaguchi hums again in response. They stay on the floor lying wrapped in each other's embrace for another moment.
They finally decide to get up from the hard floor and waddle over to the nearest bathroom, incredibly uncomfortable from the twice-sticky mess in their pajamas.
Later, when they're throwing their dirty clothes in the washer, Tsukishima says, "Y'know, you're lucky my parents went out for the day, or they would've heard some very lewd sounds coming from upstairs."
Yamaguchi covers his face and groans into his hands when Tsukishima cackles at his mortified expression. Aw, crap. He hadn't even considered that—of course they would've heard him, he was practically screaming for his "Tsukki" to dry-hump him harder. Yamaguchi's beet-red.
"That's not funny, Tsukki!" His cries come out muffled from his hands. "And I can't believe you let me be so loud, even if you knew they weren't home! And what if they forgot something and came back? Really, it'd be your fault—"
"It's exactly why I let you, you pretty fool." Tsukishima swats Yamaguchi's hands away from his face and clasps them around his back, holding Yamaguchi's face in his palms and pressing a quick kiss to his nose.
He leans in to whisper in Yamaguchi's ear. "And don't forget—I like it when you're loud."
Yamaguchi huffs and slaps a hand across Tsukishima's chest, turning back to the washer to hide his blush. "You can't just say stuff like that!" he exclaims, but truly, his stomach drops in want. Throwing a bin's worth of clothes into the open machine, Yamaguchi thinks back to less than a couple hours ago, when Tsukishima pressed hard fingers into his ass and nibbled at the skin of his neck. Fuck, he swears to himself, feeling his cock stir in his (clean) shorts. He shakes his head and focuses on the task at hand.
When he finishes, Tsukishima's leaned on the wall. He drops his eyes to Yamaguchi's crotch and meets his gaze again, sporting a new smirk. "You were thinking of us, huh?" he impishly comments.
When Yamaguchi chases him around the house with a dinosaur figure as a weapon, Tsukishima laughs and whisks around furniture yelling, "Don't yell, you know I like it!"
And Yamaguchi is content to indulge in Tsukishima's benign sort of masochism, so long as he can be in his space, anywhere he is.