༄.°loony 🫧⋆˙

“Did you know you grunt the same way when we’re having sex?”

You suddenly speak, breaking the silence of the room.

Aang’s arms freeze mid-motion. His glider slips right out of his hands, clattering to the ground and sliding a few meters away with a loud thud. His body stays suspended in that awkward, strained position with his legs apart, torso turned halfway.

There’s a long silence from his side.

Your soft chuckle makes him turn his head towards you. His eyes are half-lidded now, breath uneven, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.

“You can’t say that,” he sighs, straightening up slowly, as he exhales a deeper breath, trying to recover his composure.

“But it’s true,” you shrug, casually closing your book as if you hadn’t just wrecked his entire focus.

Aang lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath through his nose.

“Thank you for being truthful,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Now I can’t focus anymore.”

You suppress your smile as you set the book aside and stand, stretching lightly, completely unbothered.

“We can do another type of training if you want,” you say, eyes slowly dragging over his form.

He frowns slightly, catching your tone immediately.

“No, I still have a lot of energy and—”

“What? You think I can’t take it?” you interrupt, smiling now, challenging.

Your question makes him pause.

Aang exhales, looking away for a second like he’s trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s already slipping through his fingers. Or he never really had it to begin with.

“You really like to push me,” he says softly, shaking his head, voice gentler like always. He looks at you like he already knows he’s lost this argument.

He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you keep him company during these moments, but Aang could never really say no to you.

Even the Avatar is a weak man when it comes to his lover.

“And you let me every time,” you remind him, stepping closer just slightly. “So let’s train together?”

Aang exhales through his nose, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he looks to the side, clearly trying to hide it but failing miserably.

Yeah. The weakest.

And of fucking course his mind wanders further—

Would your mouth feel that good in reality?

Would it turn him on that much to have you on your knees between his legs?

Would your moans really sound that divine while doing your best to bring him towards pleasure?

Will—

“Earth to Katsukiii,” you suddenly speak, waving a hand in front of his face, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him jolt slightly, his body shifting backwards on the couch.

“What!?” His head snaps towards you instantly, his hand coming up to slap yours away, ignoring the warmth that lingers from the brief contact.

“I have been talking to you,” you frown, scooching closer to him, leaning forward slightly, trying to catch his gaze. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothin’,” he shrugs, but his body tenses the moment your chest brushes against his arm.

“You’re even pissier than usual,” you remark with a raised brow, studying him carefully. He scoffs.

“You’re imagining things,” he replies way too fast.

You frown deeper, squinting your eyes as you shift even closer, intentionally closing the space between you. You don’t miss the way he immediately leans away.

“Why do you run from me?” you ask, tilting your head.

“I like my space, weirdo,” he mutters under his breath.

“I like your space too,” you tease, nudging your knee against his.

He instantly moves his knee away.

“Shut up and watch this damn movie,” he rolls his eyes, trying to focus anywhere but you.

“Kats.”

No answer.

“Katsuki,” you insist again, leaning in and poking his cheek with your finger.

You feel it — the tension.

You notice the way his hands curl, palms balling into fists as he takes a slow, deep breath, clearly trying to keep himself together.

“What’s up with you?” you push again, your voice softer this time, but more insistent. You move even closer, until he’s practically cornered at the end of the couch, your body fully pressing into his.

“Tell meee,” you drag out, nudging him lightly. “What’s bothering you?”

“You’re bothering me,” he finally snaps, his tone sharp and annoyed, making you blink in surprise. “Even in my fuckin’ dreams,” he adds with a frustrated groan, dragging a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was.

“What?” you ask, caught off guard. “You dreamt about me?”

“Are you deaf?” he rolls his eyes, letting out a short, dry chuckle.

Then—

Something shifts.

A slow, almost mischievous grin spreads across your lips.

“What kind of dream did you have?” you ask, lowering your voice slightly as you lean closer, your gaze locking onto his.

Before he can react, you move.

In one smooth motion, you swing your leg over him, then the other, settling yourself directly in his lap, your thighs resting on either side of his muscular legs.

His mouth parts slightly, frozen halfway open, one eye twitching as he stares up at you, completely caught off guard.

“Come on,” you push again, shifting slightly on his lap, your clothed core brushing against his crotch through his jeans.

“Did you have a wet dream?” you ask playfully, clearly teasing, not thinking anything of it — but the moment he flinches, looking away instead of snapping back at you, your smile falters just a bit.

“Did you really have a wet dream of me?” you ask again, this time more serious, your eyes searching his face.

“Piss off,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze.

“Oh my god… I want to know right now,” you nudge him again, more insistent this time.

“I ain’t telling you shit, now get off of me,” he says, though his hands find your hips, gripping them instinctively.

You place your hands over his, pressing them down, smirking slightly.

“You know… if you tell me what it was about… maybe I can help,” you shrug casually, as if you didn’t just drop that.

He stares at you, completely dumbfounded, like you just said the most insane thing he’s ever heard.

“You gotta be joking,” he says, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Why would I be? It’s not like I don’t find you hot or anything,” you add, shifting slightly again in his lap.

That stirrs something in him.

He hisses under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening without him even realizing it.

“I’m still not telling you,” he mumbles, jaw clenching.

“Okay…” you hum. “I’ll guess.”

You take a moment to think, then—

“Was I on all fours? Were you fucking me from the back? I know you like doggy style… or maybe something else? Like missionary? Or cowgirl?” you ramble, mostly to yourself, watching his reactions closely. “How about—“

“It was a goddamn blowjob, now shut up,” he groans, his head falling back against the couch with a dull thud.

“Oh,” you pause, blinking. “A blowjob,” you repeat thoughtfully, tilting your head slightly.

“How was I able to fit all of that in my mouth?” you add, genuinely thinking about it.

He groans louder this time, hands leaving your hops and dragging them down his face.

“You are killing me, woman,” he mutters, voice strained, making you giggle softly.

“So you want it?” you ask, watching him closely.

He makes a pause, completely baffled.

Then—

“The hell? Who asks their best friend to suck them off?” he snaps, glaring at you.

“Who dreams of their best friend sucking them off?” you shoot back instantly, raising a brow.

“Smartass,” he scoffs.

“Pervert.”

“Oh, I’m the pervert? Not you, who’s been grinding on me for the past minutes?” he shoots back.

“I only suggested it because you seem stressed lately,” you say, your tone softer now, but still teasing. “And you clearly don’t wanna talk about feelings. Maybe I can help some… other way… you know?”

He goes quiet.

Really quiet.

His brows pull together as he stares at you, his expression shifting into something more serious, more conflicted — something you can’t quite read.

You’ve never seen that look on him before.

Not like this.

There’s hesitation.

Something heavy sits behind his eyes.

“You better not make me regret this,” he mutters finally, his voice lower now.

Your brows lift slightly, tilting your head. You didn’t know what to make of this words.

“Wha— what?”

His hands tighten on your hips, making you shift against his crotch for the nth time.

“Get on your knees.”

“Now?” You ask baffled.

“Yes, now. I’m in the mood and it’s your fault,” he reminds you.

You bite your lip to repress a smile.

Instead of a snarky comment, you just nod quietly and get off his lap. He spreads his legs wider the moment you move, watching you closely as you lower yourself onto your knees, settling between his muscular thighs.

Your palms come up to touch them, fingers gripping the material of his jeans as you slowly move them up and down, feeling the tension in his body, trying to ease it just a little.

You take your time.

Slowly moving upward, dragging it out, making it feel like it takes forever to reach his crotch… then his belt.

You start unbuckling it, your movements slow, all while looking up at him — watching the way he stares down at you, jaw tight, lips pressed together, hands resting stiffly at his sides.

You slide the belt out of the way, then undo his zipper, finally revealing his black boxers. Something hard brushes against your hand and he hisses above you, his breath catching.

Your fingers dip under the material and drag it down, exposing his happy trail that leads down to his cock. His own hands come down to help, pushing his jeans and boxers lower, lifting his hips just enough. The fabric bunches at his thighs, out of the way.

And then—

His cock springs free.

Long. Thick. Prominent veins running along the length of it. The tip flushed a reddish color, already leaking with pre-cum.

“C’mon, dig in,” he mutters, a smirk tugging at his lips as his hand comes to tangle in your hair, pushing you slightly forward.

You don’t rush.

You lean in slowly, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, feeling the way he reacts instantly — his breath hitching, a quiet hiss slipping past his lips as you glance up at him through your lashes.

Your tongue slides out, dragging along his length, long, intentional strokes, collecting the pre-cum as you go. His fingers tighten in your hair.

“Don’t— be such a tease, damn it,” he grits out, voice rougher now, the veins in his neck more visible as he looks down at you.

You let out a quiet chuckle, but you give in.

Enough teasing.

You part your lips and guide him in, taking him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, relaxing your jaw as you go, until the tip presses against the back of your throat.

You pause there for a second, breathing steadily through your nose, adjusting — letting your body relax around him.

Then you start moving.

Slow at first.

Pulling back just enough before taking him in again, setting a rhythm, your tongue flattening along the underside, tracing the veins, working with each movement.

Spit and pre-cum mix together, making everything smoother, your lips sealing tightly around him.

All the while, your eyes stay on him.

Watching everything.

The way his teeth catch his lower lip. The flare of his nostrils. The crease forming between his brows as he tries to hold himself together. Low grunts slip past his lips, restrained, controlled — but you can tell he’s holding back.

That only makes you pick up the pace.

Your head starts bobbing more steadily, your movements more confident, more precise. Tears sting lightly at your eyes from the burn of your throat, but you don’t stop — you just adjust your breathing, keeping the rhythm consistent.

You want to hear him.

Really hear him.

“You happy now?” he asks, breath uneven, voice rough. “Having a mouth full of me?”

You let out a muffled moan around him in response, the vibration traveling through him as your tongue moves again, your pace never faltering.

“You greedy brat,” he chuckles, though his voice strains. He knows you — you like this, like putting on a show, like pulling reactions out of him.

His hips twitch upward when you increase your speed, your nails digging slightly into his thighs to steady yourself as his fingers tighten in your hair.

Sweat starts to bead at his forehead, sliding down as strands of blond hair stick to his skin.

“Mhm— keep— keep going,” he finally groans, his control slipping just a bit more.

You keep the same pace, consistent, precise, working him up without losing rhythm, your tongue and lips working together, spit and pre-cum already dripping down your chin. But is all worth it when you feel it—

The twitch.

The tension building.

A few more precise movements, a slight change in pressure, and then—

He breaks.

“Fuck, fuck, gonn a—“

His words are cut off as a low, deep moan escapes him. He releases, his body tensing as he spills hot loads of cum into your mouth. He closes his eyes at the feeling, barely able to keep his lips sealed.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, his orgasm washing over him, then — he finally looks at you. You were still on your knees, still sucking and slurping like your life depended on it.

“Fuckin’ hell— you’re takin’ everything,” he lets out a weak, breathy laugh. And it was true, you make sure to not let anything go to waste.

You suck him dry.

And he lets you — for a short while.

Only when the sensitivity kicks in does he tug at your hair, trying to catch his breath and helping you catch yours.

“Shit— too much—” he groans, needing another second to breathe, to recover as you pull away, licking your lips slowly, cleaning the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand as you look up at him.

Taking him in.

He’s leaned back against the couch now, hair messy, chest rising and falling steadily, his cock flushed and glistening, resting against his stomach now. His pants and boxers are still pushed down around his thighs as he spreads his legs, taking a lot of space like usual.

But he wasn’t the only one looking messy… he noticed your state too.

And fuck if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Your hair was deshiveled from his grabbing, your cheeks were flushed, lips plump and glistening with fluids… you looked so fucking pretty like this — on your knees for him, having his cum down your throat and looking at him with teary eyes — a sign of how hard you tried to take him.

You remain on the floor even if it wasn’t the most comfortable place, still close to him.

“So…” you finally break the silence softly.

His eyes snap back to yours, still catching his breath.

“Was this better than your dream?” you ask with a raised brow and a teasing grin.

But he won’t give you want to want. He already gave you enough.

He just scoffs at your question, rolling his head slightly to the side, trying to hide his smile.

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“Did you know you grunt the same way when we’re having sex?”

You suddenly speak, breaking the silence of the room.

Aang’s arms freeze mid-motion. His glider slips right out of his hands, clattering to the ground and sliding a few meters away with a loud thud. His body stays suspended in that awkward, strained position with his legs apart, torso turned halfway.

There’s a long silence from his side.

Your soft chuckle makes him turn his head towards you. His eyes are half-lidded now, breath uneven, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.

“You can’t say that,” he sighs, straightening up slowly, as he exhales a deeper breath, trying to recover his composure.

“But it’s true,” you shrug, casually closing your book as if you hadn’t just wrecked his entire focus.

Aang lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath through his nose.

“Thank you for being truthful,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Now I can’t focus anymore.”

You suppress your smile as you set the book aside and stand, stretching lightly, completely unbothered.

“We can do another type of training if you want,” you say, eyes slowly dragging over his form.

He frowns slightly, catching your tone immediately.

“No, I still have a lot of energy and—”

“What? You think I can’t take it?” you interrupt, smiling now, challenging.

Your question makes him pause.

Aang exhales, looking away for a second like he’s trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s already slipping through his fingers. Or he never really had it to begin with.

“You really like to push me,” he says softly, shaking his head, voice gentler like always. He looks at you like he already knows he’s lost this argument.

He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you keep him company during these moments, but Aang could never really say no to you.

Even the Avatar is a weak man when it comes to his lover.

“And you let me every time,” you remind him, stepping closer just slightly. “So let’s train together?”

Aang exhales through his nose, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he looks to the side, clearly trying to hide it but failing miserably.

Yeah. The weakest.

“Did you know you grunt the same way when we’re having sex?”

You suddenly speak, breaking the silence of the room.

Aang’s arms freeze mid-motion. His glider slips right out of his hands, clattering to the ground and sliding a few meters away with a loud thud. His body stays suspended in that awkward, strained position with his legs apart, torso turned halfway.

There’s a long silence from his side.

Your soft chuckle makes him turn his head towards you. His eyes are half-lidded now, breath uneven, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.

“You can’t say that,” he sighs, straightening up slowly, as he exhales a deeper breath, trying to recover his composure.

“But it’s true,” you shrug, casually closing your book as if you hadn’t just wrecked his entire focus.

Aang lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath through his nose.

“Thank you for being truthful,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Now I can’t focus anymore.”

You suppress your smile as you set the book aside and stand, stretching lightly, completely unbothered.

“We can do another type of training if you want,” you say, eyes slowly dragging over his form.

He frowns slightly, catching your tone immediately.

“No, I still have a lot of energy and—”

“What? You think I can’t take it?” you interrupt, smiling now, challenging.

Your question makes him pause.

Aang exhales, looking away for a second like he’s trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s already slipping through his fingers. Or he never really had it to begin with.

“You really like to push me,” he says softly, shaking his head, voice gentler like always. He looks at you like he already knows he’s lost this argument.

He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you keep him company during these moments, but Aang could never really say no to you.

Even the Avatar is a weak man when it comes to his lover.

“And you let me every time,” you remind him, stepping closer just slightly. “So let’s train together?”

Aang exhales through his nose, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he looks to the side, clearly trying to hide it but failing miserably.

Yeah. The weakest.

“Did you know you grunt the same way when we’re having sex?”

You suddenly speak, breaking the silence of the room.

Aang’s arms freeze mid-motion. His glider slips right out of his hands, clattering to the ground and sliding a few meters away with a loud thud. His body stays suspended in that awkward, strained position with his legs apart, torso turned halfway.

There’s a long silence from his side.

Your soft chuckle makes him turn his head towards you. His eyes are half-lidded now, breath uneven, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.

“You can’t say that,” he sighs, straightening up slowly, as he exhales a deeper breath, trying to recover his composure.

“But it’s true,” you shrug, casually closing your book as if you hadn’t just wrecked his entire focus.

Aang lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath through his nose.

“Thank you for being truthful,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Now I can’t focus anymore.”

You suppress your smile as you set the book aside and stand, stretching lightly, completely unbothered.

“We can do another type of training if you want,” you say, eyes slowly dragging over his form.

He frowns slightly, catching your tone immediately.

“No, I still have a lot of energy and—”

“What? You think I can’t take it?” you interrupt, smiling now, challenging.

Your question makes him pause.

Aang exhales, looking away for a second like he’s trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s already slipping through his fingers. Or he never really had it to begin with.

“You really like to push me,” he says softly, shaking his head, voice gentler like always. He looks at you like he already knows he’s lost this argument.

He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you keep him company during these moments, but Aang could never really say no to you.

Even the Avatar is a weak man when it comes to his lover.

“And you let me every time,” you remind him, stepping closer just slightly. “So let’s train together?”

Aang exhales through his nose, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he looks to the side, clearly trying to hide it but failing miserably.

Yeah. The weakest.

“Did you know you grunt the same way when we’re having sex?”

You suddenly speak, breaking the silence of the room.

Aang’s arms freeze mid-motion. His glider slips right out of his hands, clattering to the ground and sliding a few meters away with a loud thud. His body stays suspended in that awkward, strained position with his legs apart, torso turned halfway.

There’s a long silence from his side.

Your soft chuckle makes him turn his head towards you. His eyes are half-lidded now, breath uneven, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.

“You can’t say that,” he sighs, straightening up slowly, as he exhales a deeper breath, trying to recover his composure.

“But it’s true,” you shrug, casually closing your book as if you hadn’t just wrecked his entire focus.

Aang lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath through his nose.

“Thank you for being truthful,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Now I can’t focus anymore.”

You suppress your smile as you set the book aside and stand, stretching lightly, completely unbothered.

“We can do another type of training if you want,” you say, eyes slowly dragging over his form.

He frowns slightly, catching your tone immediately.

“No, I still have a lot of energy and—”

“What? You think I can’t take it?” you interrupt, smiling now, challenging.

Your question makes him pause.

Aang exhales, looking away for a second like he’s trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s already slipping through his fingers. Or he never really had it to begin with.

“You really like to push me,” he says softly, shaking his head, voice gentler like always. He looks at you like he already knows he’s lost this argument.

He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you keep him company during these moments, but Aang could never really say no to you.

Even the Avatar is a weak man when it comes to his lover.

“And you let me every time,” you remind him, stepping closer just slightly. “So let’s train together?”

Aang exhales through his nose, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he looks to the side, clearly trying to hide it but failing miserably.

Yeah. The weakest.

He gets around it anyway, "Maybe if (Y/n) knew how to use the zipper on her bag, she'd know what an investment is."

"Tsukki," Is Tadashi's resounding groan.

It's practically his catchphrase. You wish you could focus enough to count how many times he does that throughout the day, because you're sure 'Tsukki' would be his #1 most-spoken word.

Kei wore a grin you could hear better than you could see. And it was always audible when he teased.

Tadashi takes a seat first and you follow soon after. As you get settled, you accidentally place your palm atop his and you both pull away quick, warm, and unsure- until Kei also takes that side. He jams your body tight between the both of them and the adjustment is difficult.

"Ow-!!"

Your arms don't even have enough room; you have to hold them out in front. You put them to good use, slapping the blond's long legs.

"Hello?" You struggle, and grunt, and wiggle, and... he's unbothered. You're dealing less damage than a gnat.

"Whaaa-t?" He groans, "We've got more coming."

"So you can-?," Tadashi takes a breath and has to readjust, smushed against the wall. He tries to settle his nerves. It's unsuccessful as he snaps, "Can't you sit over there until they show up?"

They share a loaded glance over your head.

"Nahh." Kei readjusts and pushes an inconspicuously strong leg against you so he can enjoy more room, "Don't feel like it."

Your knees clack together and you shoulder him in return, digging into his ribs. He plucks his arm up and over your shared booth seat. It successfully babygirl's both you and Tadashi.

It's a tiring endeavor that you soon find isn't worth it, because he will not budge.

There were worse places to be, but Kei's bony elbow and the keys in Tadashi's pocket are something short of comfortable.

You point to a new drink advertisement on a folded, upright menu, "Y'think that's any good? Should I get it?"

"If you get it, I wanna try it," Tadashi comments, flipping through your textbook to find the chapter you stopped on in class today.

"'Scuse meee," You turn to Kei.

He's slouched back, arms half-crossed, scrolling his phone, his headphones already on.

You sigh through your nose.

The feeling on your palms pressing into his sweater, your knee sliding between his parted thighs, your breath breezing past the side of his face, makes him stiffen. He quickly readjusts his headphones. He sits up, eyes rapidly scouring you, pink tinging his pretty, slim features.

"Whaaat?" Your face is about four inches from his, and your other hand flies to his arm for stability as you wobble, "I said excuse me!"

All too quickly, you've stumbled out on the other side of him.

He mutters, "Dumbass..." And earns your cute little tongue stuck out at him, in return.

Amber eyes track your skip down the cafe to the counter-- how your skirt sways and all that peppy, simple energy. You do it again in line when you catch him watching you. Cute.

There's no hiding how long he looks over his shoulder at you, nor his explicit thoughts from Tadashi, who's busy burning holes into the side of his stupid, blond head.

"Tch," He rolls his eyes all the way into his skull when he finally sits forward in his seat again. He could feel the heat. There was hardly even a need to confirm it, anymore.

Everybody on the team. Everyone in their class (who cared enough) knew. You knew. Kei was not alone in peddling around for Tadashi to grow some balls and make a fucking move already. Afternoons of classmates: lingering in the door when, without fail, Tadashi would escort you to practice. Fellow teammates: pausing their conversations to get a glimpse of your hug as you parted ways to change. Kei: at his wit's end with these study sessions that bubbled, teeming, with opportunity, but reliably fizzled out into nothing.

There were many eyes on you, all the time, searching, scanning, for any signs of a confession happening. Selfish with the need to see it themselves but nonetheless supportive.

He spares his freckled friend, at last, a tiny look, "Relax. She's getting you a drink."

Tadashi is extra snappy. He's not just talking about the seasonal advertisement as he goes on to correct him:

"She's getting her own drink. I'll try it. You could also easily try it, Tsukki."

"Don't wanna try it." Kei mutters, arms crossing over his tingly chest again, "I want my own."

Tadashi shifts, exaggerated, and slaps an arm on the back of the booth, his whole body turned totally towards his friend. It's not like he would ever do anything, but intimidation was a rare thing on his usually mild temperament. Kei had been acting a bit like a toddler all day and Tadashi was returning it in his own way, sporting a tired-parent tone.

"Why don't you get up and get- your- own?"

Kei said nothing. But his icy stare said, quite clearly, 'I want yours.'

"'Scuse meee," You sing to Kei again.

He turns, slow, like it pains him, or is perhaps the most inconvenient favor he's ever done, by sticking his legs out in the aisle to let you through. If Tadashi wants to challenge him, Kei had an ego to protect and a point to prove.

There's an large, elaborate drink in your hands. You've got a bit of whipped cream on your chin already, and Kei -broody- misses his chance to bring it up as you feel for it and wipe your face clean.

It's a tight squeeze, still.

The outside of your thigh brushes his shoulder. Your skirt catches and lifts a little on the material.

You pay it no mind, but it's all Kei can do to collect himself before he resets. He lingers, seconds after you're seated, with his legs still in the aisle and his nose filled with the sweetness of your perfume. It's so easy.

He affixes his headphones, first, and turns to once again squish the two of you in. Harder this time. He ignores all ensuing complaints.

If only. Maybe his bouncing leg with speed this hellish torture up. Literally forcing you together.

It does succeed in making you lean into Tadashi. You can tell Kei is in a mood today and his uniform is scratchy on your bare leg.

The new order was better than your usual. You're extra satisfied. Less bummed about the prospect of spending time at the cafe today now that you've been somewhat compensated for the usually dry and fruitless effort of studying.

"Tada-shii-!! Mmm, it's soo good!" You hold the straw near to his lips, so that he has to sip it from your hands, "Here, try it- try!"

You play Keepaway when he reaches to hold it himself twice, flustered. They're both being sensitive and it makes you squint at him, calculating.

"Mm-mm, you'll drink too much of it..." You mumble, and press it closer, "Here."

His eyes bounce from the straw to your expectant face. He's drinking out of your hands with very little convincing; you're into it. It's kind of like feeding a small, timid animal. You bite back the giggly Good job and desire to coo at him like a bunny, or a cat.

Dark, thick, long eyelashes from this angle are so pretty. His complexion that was healthy. Sunkissed, athletic, and coated in an explosion of specks. Killer smile.

"I like your freckles..." Spills out, and makes him choke.

You forgot he doesn't.

"Sorry, sorry!"

You wince and yank out a bunch of napkins from the holder across the table. He has no choice but to accept your help and try to make a graceful recovery, but it's hard to come across as unaffected when now his lap is wet and your flippant comment is bouncing off the walls of his skull.

"Nice," Kei snorts, genuine laughter behind the back of his hand.

It is pretty funny, so you fail to hide your own giggles, and Tadashi gets all shy again.

What is truly funny is the two of you needing to exit the booth in order for him to get out, so he can clean up in the restroom. It's a clamber, a clumsy endeavor, with everyone stumbling out.

"It's okayyy!" You call to Tadashi. It doesn't help.

You don't have high hopes for the café soap, tap water, and electric hand dryer on his pants. He'll probably have to take them somewhere and live with the stain on his crotch for a few hours.

You share a rare look of amusement with Kei, because 1) you're often not left alone and 2) you often don't find the same things funny. This was a particularly odd exception.

You both dip your heads away. Small smiles and quiet giggles make Kei polite enough to clean up the mess you were responsible for.

"I got it."

He leans over you with no more words. He's lacking in his usual shittiness. He smells nice, but you push that all the way to the back of your mind and try to pretend like you never noticed.

The reach from his long limbs makes his position not a huge deal, but you're still warm at how he grips the wood right behind your head. You 'have' to stare at his arm while he carefully sops up the mess of your drink. You're partial to being a bit higher than him. Or, maybe it was the fact that he was doing you a favor. You don't care. You aren't in a rush to find out.

He acts like he doesn't feel your uneven breath flutter across his skin.

When you turn, because you can see him twitching, your eyes stop on his cleaning hand. He makes the napkins look very tiny.

"So big..." Falls from your lips.

He bites his cheek and looks away to hide how much he likes that. You're staring at his fingers, so his choice to take a second is nonconsequential.

Soon he's done and places all the napkins he used wadded up, back on the table to throw away later. He sits up, but doesn't turn away.

It's so easy. You are so. Easy.

Kei keeps his smile under his palm as he rests his elbow on the table, and flips his free hand palm-up, pressing the back of it into your lap as an offering.

"You've got a crush on him, don't you?"

You squirm, hesitant to take his touch and to answer his uncalled for, yet informed question. He can't help himself. You're too fun to tease.

"Do'y'want me to leave?"

"N-o..."

"Do'y'want me to tell him?"

"No," You're fidgeting just the right amount, toying with the tips of his fingers. He's got you where he wants you and he's where he wants to be.

You send a chill up through his arm as your touch skips across the lines in his palm. He shifts, nostrils flared.

It's not shy, he's not avoidant; it's just as conversational as everything else he's said today:

"Y'know I like you?"

See, Tadashi? It's so easy that even he can do it.

You pause. You're unsure what to do with that, and assume he's joking, until you feel his hand slide up into your hairline while you're busy searching his sincere expression. The 'Are you serious?' dies before it gets past your teeth.

His thumb is caressing the side of your face. It's a sensation that simplifies, dulls, everything else. With it, he gets you laser-focused on him.

Just the two of you. It rarely is this way, isn't it? Your heart is quickening and you truly look at him for the first time. He's got blond eyelashes. His glass are a bit crooked, when he presses his jaw into his hand like that. He's beautiful. He's not lying.

"Stop playing," You go to pull away, but he's rough with the angle to grip your roots and desire to keep you still. Just for a moment. He wouldn't hurt you, but he is selfish.

There's tension in the side of his face that you can see.

You like Kei. You want him around. You like the way he feels, right now.

But what you Really like is the fact that he's so direct.

"M'not joking. I do."

He knows he'll lose you eventually to his best friend.

You don't care much for quick-wittedness and sarcasm, or sick blocks, or the extra height he boasts about. You want- and deserve- somebody just as sweet as you.

Yet, for some reason, he can't roll over and let the Nice Guy win. On some level, he's certain that he's doing your future relationship a favor by making things rocky and interesting now.

Tadashi was fighting so much harder than he would've ever had to in order to win your affections.

"Tired of not saying it," He sighs.

His grip is soft, but your body feels drawn in, as if he's capable of generating a gravitational force. You don't realize that it's because you areleaning.

His eyes sink lower to your lips.

You want somebody to take your weight. Your heavy, beating heart. You had been stuck waiting around for a confession. Now you got one.

"You..." You run out of breath after just one word and your face flashes hot.

He's close.

You still don't wiggle away. You even hold your breath, and your lips are just barely sticking to one another before a heavy textbook slams onto the cafe table.

The awful shared flinch means his fingers get stuck and you're both left looking flushed, horribly guilty, and attempting to fish one of his adjustable rings from one messy lock of hair.

Kageyama's low, disgusted mutter: "Ugh... I didn't peg you for a pervert..."

The late company would've been a welcome sight three minutes ago, but all it does is throw a wrench into a track you didn't realize you were speeding down.

"Take that back, dumbass."

"Huh?? Like Hell I will! What were you doing?"

"None of your damn business, Tobio."

"Don't say my name like that!"

As those two get into it, you spiral in what was Tadashi's seat, fingertips pressing against your bottom lip. You're zoning out hard.

"Mm!" Hinata is helping himself to your drink across the table, "This is so good! Is this new?"

"Mhm..." You nod, dazed.

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my inbox.

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Ი𐑼 post note. had fun writing this one. these two are fun.