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“Tsukki, I’m gonna get some food if you wanna get us seats. You want anything?”
“I’m good. I think Suga’s got seats for all of us - I’ll let you know when I find them.”
The pair headed in opposite directions, Tsukishima taking the stairs two at a time as he searched for old friends while Yamaguchi meandered in the direction of the kiosks on the main level. He smiled when he noted the Onigiri Miya sign; maybe patronizing Osamu’s shop would bring some good luck to MSBY against the Adlers. He’d pretend to be neutral for the sake of his former classmates, but deep down he was ever-so-slightly biased thanks to his soft spot for the energetic redheaded wing spiker.What Yamaguchi wasn’t expecting was to see Miya Osamu himself tending the stand. He might have fled the short line altogether had it not been for his body’s refusal to budge from the spot where his feet were anchored. In fact, both of the parties in front of him had already ordered and moved out of line by the time Yamaguchi even thought to move forward. It was Osamu calling “Next customer!” that broke his mesmerized gaze, and he hurried forward, thankful that Osamu seemed to be too distracted by whatever he was scribbling down to notice his delayed response.
Yamaguchi couldn’t help but take note of the way that Osamu’s voice had deepened faintly since high school. He’d always had a calm, pleasant demeanor, but the way he sounded so casually authoritative was… new. Yamaguchi shook his head to rid his mind of the thought. He channeled all of his energy into ordering two pickled plum onigiri and deliberately avoiding eye contact. When Osamu turned away to package up his order, he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Snap out of it, Tadashi , he thought.
Osamu turned back with a neatly tied bag and a smile entirely too genuine for someone who worked in the service industry. “Thanks a lot, come back soon!” he said, but when Yamaguchi grabbed the handle of the bag he was taken aback when Osamu didn’t let go. “Hey, wait a sec. You’re the um…” he snapped his fingers as if that would jog his memory. “You played volleyball at Karasuno, right?”
“Oh, um, yeah. It’s Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi Tadashi.”
“Yeah! You had that nasty jump floater.” The way Osamu beamed at him was filled with a hint of admiration that forced Yamaguchi to look away in embarrassment. “I’m Miya Osamu, I played for -”
“Inarizaki. I remember. Also…” Yamaguchi motioned at the sign stating the name of the shop in large lettering. This time, it was Osamu who looked embarrassed.
“Ah, yeah. You just come up here for the match? Or, no, I guess this is kinda your turf anyway, huh?” Osamu asked and answered all in one breath. By this point, he had let go of the bag, leaving Yamaguchi just standing in front of him while they made small talk. Yamaguchi covertly peeked behind him at the growing line he was holding up. If Osamu noticed, he surely didn’t seem to mind.
“Hah, yeah. I go to Tohokudai now, so I’m still around.” There was a beat of silence that Yamaguchi took as his sign that he should finally leave. “Well, it was nice seeing you!” he called and quickly shuffled back the way he came. He didn’t even wait for a response. The whole climb up the stairs Yamaguchi used half of his brain to scan the seats for Tsukki and the other half to kick himself for being so painfully awkward .
“Yamaguchi!” A voice called. He whipped his head around to see Sugawara waving at him from a row he had very much already passed without notice. He turned and jogged back down a few steps to join his old Karasuno teammates.
“How long does it take to get food?” Tsukki mumbled as he let Yamaguchi scoot past him to the empty seat.
“I ran into Miya Osamu. Well, I didn’t run into him, I guess. I bought these from him.” Yamaguchi lifted the bag in attestation. “So we were just saying hey,” he finished and silently prayed that they could drop it. It was very apparent that would not be the case when he glanced up to see Tsukki’s shit-eating grin and markedly raised eyebrows. “Don’t start.”
Yamaguchi listened in on what Sugawara and Daichi were discussing, hoping for a convenient time to jump into their conversation and escape the humiliating tension caused by his best friend’s unspoken thoughts.
“So,” Yamaguchi winced at the sound of Tsukki’s voice, “you said hey? That doesn’t sound like it takes too long. I guess he must have remembered you, though.” Tsukki nudged him in the ribs, knowing exactly what he was doing.
“It’s not like that, Tsukki.”
“It could be.”
“Hmm, I’m gonna say probably not. Girls were all over him in high school, I’m not sure I’m exactly his type.”
“Hey, I’m sure the guys were, too.” He gave a mockingly comforting pat on his friend’s shoulder.
“Maybe so,” Yamaguchi conceded, if for no reason other than to end the conversation. Internally, he prayed that it wasn’t immediately obvious how the implication had sent blood rushing to his cheeks.
From: Hinata Shoyo hey! I gave Atsumu your number, hope that’s okay
To: Hinata Shoyo huh? for what?
From: Hinata Shoyo oh I dunno. I can ask him
Yamaguchi panicked and quickly typed out a response, hitting send as soon as his fingers caught up to his racing brain.
To: Hinata Shoyo no no it’s fine it’s no big deal thanks for letting me know. congrats on the win today, dude!
From: Hinata Shoyo Thanks, Yamaguchi! You coming out tonight?
Yamaguchi slipped his phone away without answering. He missed seeing Hinata; since they graduated he’d been all over, constantly moving around and constantly busy. He might even see Kageyama as well, if they managed to get the Adlers on board with a night out despite the loss. Still, Yamaguchi’s social battery was critically low after several hours of small talk with friends combined with Tsukishima’s intermittent not-so-subtle comments.
On the other hand, he knew Tsukishima would be staying in instead of taking up the offer their former teammate threw out when they chatted briefly after the match. Going out would give him some reprieve from the teasing he was sure would continue throughout the night and, realistically, probably the next week at least. Yamaguchi threw himself on his bed, conflicted, and set an alarm, opting to decide how he felt after a nap. What he didn’t expect when he woke up two hours later was a text from an unknown number.
From: ??? Hey, will I be seeing you later?
From: ??? Oh, it’s Miya Osamu, by the way. Snagged your number from Atsumu. He said the team’s going out.
A wave of sheer panic coursed through Yamaguchi. Surely this was not happening. He must still be asleep - either that or Tsukishima was fully committed to submitting him to unprecedented ridicule. Then again, Hinata had said Atsumu had asked for his number. Without giving himself time to overthink, Yamaguchi sent a quick reply.
To: Miya Osamu Yeah, I think I’ll probably make it out! Hopefully I’ll see you there :)
He composed the text on adrenaline-fueled instinct without thinking about the consequence of what he’d written. Why did I say that? Yamaguchi instantly thought to himself. I could have outright avoided this situation, could have ignored the message and stayed in and pretended none of it had ever happened . Now, he had to go out. And look nice and act cool-ish. Against his better judgment, he knocked on the bedroom door next to his own and let himself in. Tsukishima was at his desk, headphones on, typing away at a report that probably wasn’t due anytime soon. Yamaguchi picked up the nearest appropriately-sized item - a pair of socks that had yet to be put away from on top of the dresser - and tossed them at his friend’s head. Tsukishima looked unfazed, but took off his headphones, signalling that he was listening.
“I’m going out tonight,” Yamaguchi said. Tsukishima glanced at him, complete disinterest apparent on his face.
“Okay, son, have fun I guess,” he said, moving to replace his headphones.
“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said, more firmly this time. “What the hell do I wear?” This earned a dry laugh from his roommate.
“You’re asking me for fashion advice?”
“Advice in general, asshole,” Yamaguchi retorted, briefly considering retracing his steps and acting as if he’d never initiated the conversation at all. “Osamu’s going out.” Realization dawned on Tsukishima’s face.
“Oh my god, you’re asking me for boy advice.”
“Okay, I’m leaving.”
“No, dude, wait.” An eye roll paired with his signature smirk. “It’s fine . You’ll be with like twenty other people. There’s no pressure. Just wear what you were wearing earlier - it looked fine, and then it’ll seem like you were busy doing things all day and not sitting at home thinking about what to wear to impress your high school crush.” Yamaguchi grimaced but said nothing. Instead of smacking the smug look off of Tsukki’s face as he was so tempted to do, he opted to head to his bathroom and self-assess.
Yamaguchi received a text from Hinata with an address, indicating the bar he and some of his teammates were already at, while he was still in the midst of fussing with his hair in an attempt to tame the stray strands. I can be fashionably late , he assured himself as he laced up a pair of leather boots and slung a jacket over his arm.
Upon arriving at the much more posh than anticipated establishment, Yamaguchi took a deep breath and shook out his upper body. He was sure he looked foolish to anyone walking by on the sidewalk, but he couldn’t help how pitifully on edge he felt. He opted for the stairs over the elevator and jogged all the way up to the rooftop bar in a last-ditch effort to release some of the nervous energy. He cracked the door at the top of the steps just wide enough to slide through it, hoping not to slip in without attracting any attention from other patrons.
“Yamaguchi!” Hinata called out not a moment later. So much for laying low. Hinata was already bounding across the floor, rambling about how Yamaguchi was at least three drinks behind already, and he’d better work on catching up if he wanted to have any fun at all. As Hinata directed him over to a corner furnished with plush couches where he and his teammates were seated, he signaled at the bartender for someone to come by and take their order.
“Oh, look , Samu!” someone called with the most sugary sweet teasing tone known to man. Yamaguchi turned toward the sound of the voice to see Miya Atsumu, one leg slung over the arm of a couch where his twin brother sat next to him. Osamu gave a swift smack to the back of Atsumu’s head, and, though he averted his eyes out of fear of being caught staring, Yamaguchi could hear the cackles of Atsumu and several of the other men sitting around the low table.
A waitress waved at Hinata as he and Yamaguchi slid onto the cushions so that Yamaguchi was seated between himself and Bokuto.
“What are you drinking?” Hinata directed the question mainly at Yamaguchi, though several people shouted out orders at the same time.
“Oh, uh, I’ll take a vodka soda, whenever you get a chance,” Yamaguchi said to the waitress, eyes apologetic on behalf of his company despite having just arrived. The waitress stared at him, lips slightly parted and saying nothing. “Um… if that’s okay?” Yamaguchi tacked on, distressed by her reaction and desperate to diffuse the situation. The woman blushed violently and nodded.
“Yes, yes. Of course. Sorry.” As she walked away, she cradled her head in her hands and made a beeline for a coworker to whom she immediately started whispering.
“Damn, brother, you just showed up and you’ve already got the cute server wrapped around your finger.” Bokuto slapped Yamaguchi on the back with more force than he probably intended.
“Yamaguchi pulls,” Hinata quipped, causing his teammate to toss his head back in laughter. Atsumu joined in as if they were sharing some kind of inside joke. Yamaguchi just chuckled along and maintained his gaze on the skyline, just past the heads of the men sitting across from him. When he scanned back to the area where he was seated, he met the eyes of Osamu. Eyes he’d been intentionally avoiding.
Without breaking eye contact, Osamu made a request.
“Bo, switch me seats.”
Bokuto, agreeable as ever, got up and settled into the spot where Osamu had been sitting, capitalizing on the opportunity to pull Atsumu into his lap.
“Handsy,” chided Atsumu, though he made no effort to move. Osamu, in turn, plopped down next to Yamaguchi.
“I was starting to get nervous you were gonna ditch me with these idiots,” he joked. Yamaguchi laughed as he grabbed his drink from the server who’d just returned with a tray full of bottles and glasses.
“I wouldn’t do that to you.” Just as soon as he’d placed his glass on the cocktail napkin in front of him, Yamaguchi’s hand was filled with another, smaller glass.
“Pass that down,” Hinata ordered, reaching out a hand with another shot, this one for Yamaguchi to keep. Osamu groaned.
“What is this?”
“It’s -”
“Tequila!” Atsumu finished loudly with a shimmy of his shoulders and waggle of his eyebrows.
“It’s a celebratory thing. You gotta,” Hinata insisted. “Plus they’re all on Meian’s tab, whether he knows it or not.” Osamu and Yamaguchi shared an uncertain glance but both grabbed limes from the plate centered on the table.
“To a great win!” Someone shouted, and everyone downed the liquor with varying levels of enthusiasm.
“That… actually could’ve been much worse,” Yamaguchi commented, pleasantly surprised. Osamu nodded enthusiastically.
“Yeah, they must’ve sprung for the good stuff.” He gestures toward the drink Yamaguchi hadn’t yet had the chance to touch. “Vodka soda, hm? Wouldn’t have pinned you for the type.”
“I’m not ,” Yamaguchi sighed. “I panic ordered.”
“Because the waitress was making those eyes at you?” Yamaguchi shot him a glance that clearly said, not you, too. “I’m kidding. Kind of.” Osamu looked downward and smiled at the bottle of beer he was holding. Yamaguchi tried hard not to take note of how enticing his hand looked wrapped around the amber glass. “It’s cute when you blush. Y’know, with the freckles and all.” If Yamaguchi was blushing before, now he must have been beet red.
“Have you been drinking as much as they have?” Yamaguchi gestured to Atsumu and Hinata specifically and then vaguely to the rest of the team. Osamu snorted.
“Technically, yeah I guess. But that’s not…” he trailed off. “That’s not like… why I said that or anything.”
“No, yeah.” Yamaguchi pointedly looked around, staring out at the point on the horizon he’d watched so intently when he first sat down. In an uncharacteristic act of boldness, or maybe just out of a need for some liquid courage, he downed the rest of his drink in one go. “I’m gonna go up to the bar and get another one. Well, not another one of these.” He lifted the empty glass. “Something actually good. You want anything?” Osamu gave the bottle in his hand a little shake and noticed that it was nearing the bottom.
“Actually, yeah. Can you grab me another one of these?”
“Sure thing.” As Yamaguchi headed out of the corner where the group was seated, Hinata took advantage of the open space to reach out to Osamu. He was past the point of tipsy and nearly toppled over as he grabbed Osamu’s arm to pull him closer.
“Dude,” Hinata whisper-yelled, slightly slurred. “He had the fattest crush on you in high school.” He giggles like a schoolgirl.
“Not very cool of you to be telling other people’s secrets, boke.” Hinata’s head snapped up at the voice, and he jumped to pinch the newcomer firmly on the ass.
“You just missed our celebratory shots, Kageyama! Not that you would’ve been eligible for one anyway, but still,” Atsumu joked.
“Do you want to take a shot? Take a shot with me please ,” Hinata begged. Kageyama’s eyes narrowed at him as he guided Hinata to sit back on the couch and took the seat next to him. Despite the disapproving look, there was undeniable affection in the way he stared.
“I don’t know about that. Seems like you’re all set for right now.” Hinata pouted and gave him a pleading look; nearly everyone else around rolled their eyes as if they’d seen enough. Yamaguchi sauntered back with a bottle in each hand, grinning widely as he noticed that Kageyama had joined the crew.
“Hey man, good to see ya!” Kageyama just nodded at him in greeting before turning back to Hinata, whose drink he was trying to slyly swap out for a glass of water. Yamaguchi handed one of the beers to Osamu and pointed to his own with the now-free hand.
“I just got whatever you got, so if it sucks I’m blaming you.”
“Well, I don’t wanna get your hopes up too high, but this is the most solidly average beer I’ve had in a long time.” Yamaguchi took a trial swig.
“Oh yeah, that’s a true five out of ten if I’ve ever tasted one,” he agreed with a solemn nod.
“What can I say? I deliver on my promises.” Osamu smiled at Yamaguchi. It was a lopsided, dorky smile that made Yamaguchi feel comfortable, and he released the tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in his shoulders.
“I took another shot while I was waiting for these,” Yamaguchi confessed suddenly.
“You know, I should’ve suspected as much from the way your face is bright red right now.” His lips quirked up slightly. “That or you ran into the waitress with the crush on you again.”
“Still not funny,” Yamaguchi murmured. “I haven’t eaten since I got food from you at the match earlier.” Osamu raised an eyebrow at the abrupt change of subject but waited for him to continue. “Which was great by the way. Really, they were super good.” He cleared his throat. “Um, anyway, I was thinking after this drink I might disappear for a bit to grab something real quick. Would you want to come?” Osamu looked stunned. The time it was taking him to respond had Yamaguchi on the verge of taking back the offer out of sheer humiliation.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, definitely. I could always eat.” Osamu nodded a bit too eagerly. Yamaguchi let out a deep breath.
“Okay. Cool.” The two finished their beers quietly, tuning back into the larger group’s main conversation to which neither of them were contributing. Eventually, Osamu tilted his head toward the door.
“You ready?”
“Yeah,” Yamaguchi replied. He cursed himself for the relentless butterflies in his stomach he couldn’t suppress. One hand tapped Hinata on the shoulder. “Osamu and I are gonna go grab a bite to eat. I’ll meet up with you in a bit, just let me know if you head somewhere else.”
“Wait!” Hinata grabbed Yamaguchi’s wrist and looked back and forth between the two men. “Have fun,” was all he added.
“Hinata…” Kageyama warned and pulled him closer into his side. Osamu laughed and grabbed Yamaguchi’s shoulders, steering him out of the bar. Yamaguchi focused all his energy on not combusting at the contact.
Yamaguchi led the way, heading directly for his favorite local fast food joint: a tiny family-owned vendor sandwiched between two much larger restaurants just a few blocks down from where they were. Without needing any time to deliberate, he asked for a large order of french fries before glancing at Osamu.
“Do you want anything?”
“I’m not really that hungry actually. I just wanted an excuse to go with ya.” Yamaguchi tried to hide how flustered the comment makes him, though Osamu swore he caught a glimpse of the same blush he’d noted earlier in the evening.
“Hmph, okay. But don’t expect to eat half of my food.”
Osamu shrugged at his playful insistence and grabbed Yamaguchi’s order from the man at the window. “Fair enough.”
“You can have the really crispy ones though,” Yamaguchi offered as he pointed to a nearby table and chairs.
“Are you crazy? Those are the best ones.” This earned a sigh from Yamaguchi, who seemed to have expected his reaction and was already prepared to disagree.
“No , you just have to learn to appreciate the beauty of the long, floppy ones.” Osamu shook his head in disbelief.
“We’re gonna have to agree to disagree here. We should stop this conversation before we both say things we regret,” Osamu suggests, smiling fondly at Yamaguchi, who was too focused on creating a good spot for his ketchup to notice. The two sat in comfortable silence, alternating turns at reaching in the basket of fries. “So,” Osamu led, knowingly smirking at what the bomb he was about to drop, “I heard you had a crush on me in high school. That true?” Yamaguchi nearly choked on his food.
“Where would you have heard that?” As soon as the question left his mouth he knew the answer and held up his hand. “Drunk bastard…” he muttered to himself. Maybe it was the rapport they’d developed over the course of the night or maybe it was the effects of the alcohol setting in, but Yamaguchi met Osamu’s eyes without hesitation. “I mean, yeah, I definitely did. I think everyone did.” Osamu let out a hearty laugh that took Yamaguchi by surprise.
“Definitely not ,” he countered. “You were cute, too. You’re still cute, but in a more, y’know, manly way.” Yamaguchi scoffed, both at the compliment and at the thought that he had any kind of manly appeal.
Accounting for Yamaguchi’s timidness, Osamu veered the conversation back to the present - the former sharing embellished stories of his college experience and the latter, in turn, telling all about the journey to having a successful restaurant of his own. By the time either of them bothered to check their phones, over an hour had passed. Yamaguchi had several texts from Hinata and one from Kageyama concisely summarizing all the information Hinata had tried to communicate. They had headed home for the night, but most of the rest of the guys were sticking around at the bar. Yamaguchi conveyed the update to Osamu and, after throwing out the remainder of the fries they both insisted he didn’t want to finish, the two men started wandering down the sidewalk back in the direction they came.
“So did you want to head back to the bar or - ?” Osamu cut Yamaguchi off before he could finish.
“Can I be honest with you?” Yamaguchi took a deep breath, preparing for the worst, and nodded. “I kinda just wanna go home.”
“Oh .” Yamaguchi’s heart sank. “Okay, yeah I totally get that.” His face had fallen completely and in his uninhibited state he made no attempt to hide it.
“Wait, no,” Osamu backpedaled. “Not like that. I just mean it’s been nice with it just being the two of us, and now I’m just in the mood for it to keep being the two of us. But I’m obviously staying in a hotel for the weekend, and I know you probably don’t want to come hang out in a hotel with me, and…” He sighed at the hole he’d clearly dug himself. I guess now’s as good a time as ever , Osamu thought. He grabbed Yamaguchi by the wrist and guided him off to the side until they stood in the shadow of the nearest building. The direct eye contact he made had Yamaguchi’s knees on the verge of collapse. “Look, if I’m reading this wrong then stop me.”
Then Osamu closed the gap between the two of them - slowly, carefully. When he was face to face with Yamaguchi, all freckled skin and blown out pupils, Osamu cupped Yamaguchi’s chin firmly in his left hand and leaned in to ghost their lips over one another. He might have pulled back to gauge the reaction had it not been for Yamaguchi’s hand already circling around his neck. For a moment, it was all fingers tangled in hair and noses pressed together. Then, just as quickly, it became teeth clashing against teeth and tongues begging for entrance in the mouth of the other.
“Come home with me,” Yamaguchi uttered. The lilt in his voice made it sound more like a question than the confident suggestion he’d intended.
“Okay,” breathed Osamu.
Yamaguchi thanked each and every one of his lucky stars when he unlocked the door to his apartment to find the common area empty and Tsukki’s light turned off. The relative privacy gave him the confidence to tug on Osamu where they were joined by the hands they held, drawing him into an intimate embrace.
“Where’s your bedroom?” Osamu whispered between the kisses he was pressing against the column of Yamaguchi’s throat. Yamaguchi answered by simply walking backwards, leading the way. Once the door had closed behind them, Osamu was quick to reach for the hem of Yamaguchi’s shirt. Instead of taking it off straight away, he chose to slide his palm down Yamaguchi’s torso from just below his pectoral muscles to the waistband of his pants. “You don’t know how long I’ve wished I could touch you like this.”
“Show me.” Yamaguchi didn’t recognize his own voice. It dawned on him suddenly that he’d never been with someone he felt quite like this about. It was terrifying and turned his body to a live wire. Fuck it - it’s now or never, he unknowingly mimicked the very logic Osamu had used not half an hour earlier.
Meanwhile, Osamu, who had been just about losing his mind trying not to take things too far, snapped at Yamaguchi’s words. He grabbed the narrow hips in front of him and used his own broader frame to push Yamaguchi onto the mattress.
“Take your clothes off,” he commanded, blunt and authoritative as he did the same for himself. Yamaguchi was sure this was the sexiest view he’d ever had - probably ever would have: Miya Osamu towering over him shirtless with his jeans unbuttoned and the outline of his erect cock visible through the thin briefs underneath. It was such intense attraction that he felt a strong sense of self-consciousness while shedding what few layers of his clothing remained.
“You’re gorgeous,” Yamaguchi whispered, reaching out to touch as Osamu crawled forward to cage him underneath. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, and when Osamu’s uncharacteristically cocky smile made it clear that he had, he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Look at me,” Osamu murmured, placing his lips to Yamaguchi’s jaw line in a series of barely-there sweeps. Yamaguchi opened his eyes slowly as if adjusting to a bright light despite the total darkness in his bedroom. He was painfully aware of the way Osamu’s cock was pressed flush against his own, and he unconsciously ground his hips upward. The friction sent heat directly to his core, and he gasped softly.
“Tadashi.” The use of his given name shocked Yamaguchi and, quite frankly, turned him on immensely. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes. Yes, please,” he begged, offering his most sincere pleading look.
“Lube?”
“Top drawer.” Osamu rifled through the clutter to grab the bottle and wasted no time in coating Yamaguchi’s cock and his own. He ensured two of his fingers were adequately slick before he began rubbing them in circles against Yamaguchi’s hole. He used his idle hand to languidly stroke Yamaguchi’s cock from base to tip over and over. With each drag of his hand over the rock-hard member, he applied more pressure with his lubed-up fingers until he was able to slip both in at once. Yamaguchi let out a groan at the intrusion but started moving his hips to serve the dual purpose of sliding along Osamu’s fingers and rubbing his cock against the hand that was still wrapped snugly around him.
Amidst the pleasure he was feeling, Yamaguchi became acutely aware of how selfishly he was accepting Osamu’s attention. Intent on returning the favor, he reached down to palm Osamu, and discovered that he hadn’t realized quite how big the man was. Feeling his length sent whatever blood remained elsewhere in his body flooding straight to his cock. Suddenly he was being flipped on top with ease so that he was straddling Osamu’s thick thighs.
“If you wanted to please me ,” Osamu murmured against Yamaguchi’s shoulder, where he was leaving tiny bite marks across his skin, “you should’ve just asked.”
With that, Osamu aligned his cock with Yamaguchi’s meticulously prepped hole and pressed just the tip past his entrance. His brows furrowed together as if deep in concentration, and he let out a shaky breath. Once again Yamaguchi was staring at him with the widest, most innocent eyes, and Osamu could think of nothing he wanted more than to take him fully right then and there. Instead, he ran the fingertips of one hand up Yamaguchi’s spine while gripping his hip with the other.
He was about to ask for permission to move further when he heard the man on his lap moan, “More, please . I need you, Osamu.” At the sound of his name leaving Yamaguchi’s lips so sweety he no longer had the willpower to resist sheathing his entire length in the tight warmth. He let out a low grunt at the euphoric feeling.
“You feel incredible, Tadashi.” He rolled his hips to move in and out once more, and as he did so Yamaguchi rolled his own hips in synchrony to match. “You take me so well.” He continued his slow rhythm of thrusting upwards, matching strokes of his hand along Yamaguchi’s cock with each movement.
“Yes, like that. Yes, yes,” Yamaguchi repeated, unable to conjure any other words amid the overwhelming stimulation. Now he was limp, leaning all of his weight on Osamu’s shoulders around which he’d circled both arms. Yamaguchi was pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along whatever parts of Osamu’s skin his lips could find - neck, shoulder, chest, biceps, and back again.
Osamu used the hand that wasn’t carefully circling the tip of Yamaguchi’s cock to firmly hold his jaw, squishing his cheeks so that his lips parted slightly.
“Keep looking at me,” Osamu said. His formerly commanding tone was tinged with a hint of desperation, almost bordering on a whine. “I want you to look in my eyes while I’m filling you up with my cum.” The filthy words paired with the way Osamu twisted his hand methodically around his throbbing cock sent Yamaguchi over the edge, spilling himself between their bodies. As Yamaguchi was coming down from his high, Osamu was chasing his own, fucking into him harder and faster than before. Yamaguchi couldn’t restrain his breathy moans as he moved his hips in tight circles.
“Good boy. Good fucking boy,” Osamu growled before sinking his teeth into Yamaguchi’s shoulder and letting out one long, final groan. The sudden quiet weighed heavy in the air as all that remained was heavy breathing from both parties and a mess of limbs that neither man was prepared to untangle. Osamu gradually pulled his still-pulsing cock out of Yamaguchi, who let out a barely perceptible whimper at the emptiness. Finally, Yamaguchi rolled off from on top of Osamu. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Osamu whispered.
The two shared a shower like it was the most natural thing in the world, neither feeling the need to speak. They washed one another’s bodies with gentle motions between sweet kisses, constantly touching in some way but without any sense of urgency. The only sounds they made were quiet whispers and stifled laughter as they worked quickly to change the sheets and climbed into the freshly-made bed next to one another. Osamu wrapped his arms protectively around Yamaguchi’s waist to hold his back flush against his own chest. He suspected Yamaguchi may have already been pulled under by sleep as he placed a kiss to the top of the head resting against his shoulder.
“Good night, Tadashi.”
Yamaguchi awoke the next morning to find himself using Osamu’s broad chest as a pillow. God, he really did have a breathtaking body. Yamaguchi allowed himself a self-indulgent moment to look over the man lying in bed next to him. He felt exhilarated to have spent the night with someone so undeniably sexy , but more than that, he felt enamored with the peaceful look on Osamu’s face as he breathed in and out, still cloaked heavily in sleep.
Carefully, Yamaguchi slid out of his position in the crook of Osamu’s arm and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants from his dresser and padded across the floor with as light of steps as he could manage. He spared one last glance at the slumbering man in his bed before slipping out the door and closing it gently.
The smell of fresh coffee flooded his senses as Yamaguchi leaned on the counter, letting himself become mesmerized by the leisurely drip of it brewing. In his state of half-awake distraction, he failed to notice Tsukishima join him in the kitchen until he heard the refrigerator door shut. He snapped upright to see his roommate pouring orange juice into a glass, eyes fixed not on his drink, but instead staring directly back at him. Wordlessly, Tsukishima smirked down at the cap he was replacing on the juice carton before placing it back on the shelf of the fridge. As he left the kitchen, glass in hand, he gave Yamaguchi one firm pat on the shoulder.
“It’s a good morning, huh, buddy?”