natto-stuffed aburaage
ushiwaka's b-roll. 2 scenes during or after "plexus unraveling". lapslock / 600 words / rated r
1.
in the end, sakusa agreed to meet at the coffee shop.
he'd sounded ok on the phone. but sat now across the low table with a scalding cup of coffee pressed between his fingers, he looked like he 90 percent regretted it.
if it were anybody else, ushijima might've spared them both the anguish, and fronted some excuse to leave already. for example, there was a new meal prep recipe he found on the internet that he wanted to try. or maybe he still had practice, despite having just left the gym, and then barring his inability to lie about it for real, he would've headed back to the gym to tear up a cardio machine & waffle about the pendulum squat for another 20 minutes. his trainer would totally admonish him. you're overdoing it again, ushijima-senshu. no doubt it'll deal you a proper exercise injury one day. it was such a foreseeable thing, too.
but was that so bad. if arranging a sports injury manifested in an ex-boyfriend coming around to wait hand-and-foot on every spontaneous emotional whim that he had, then maybe ushijima welcomed it. what sort of injury could he suffer? maybe not anything career-ending, like a torn rotator cuff or a broken patella. he'd settle for a sprained joint. growing up ushijima's father had always praised himself for raising a son with very strong ligaments.
ushijima entertained the idea of spraining his elbow during his next match. was this what they called having an epiphany?
sakusa cleared his throat.
"i... maybe i should go."
which was a funny thing to say. the last time he had said that, they'd wound up in the backseat of ushijima's car, parked next to the wall in the south lot of the adlers' training facility. sakusa had worn the most exquisite expression on his face while one of his hands grasped at ushijima's hair, the other one working to stuff his moans back into his mouth as ushijima pressed his thighs deeper into the seat with every debilitating thrust of the hips.
sakusa's face flushed. likely his thoughts had similarly landed on that day, there or thereabouts. ushijima watched him bite his lip and say nothing. it was that kind of memory, after all.
for lack of breathing room in the space between them, ushijima stood up to order an espresso.
"how's the coffee here, is it any good?"
sakusa sipped his drink. his voice was rough. "it's nothing special."
2.
"you went to his house? to APOLOGIZE??" oikawa's voice boomed loudly over ushijima's speakerphone. "why the hell would you even DO that???"
"is there something wrong with what i did," said ushijima.
"is there something wrong with what i did," oikawa mocked him. "oh, i'm sure you're the FIRST person that miya atsumu wants to see. honest to god, ushiwaka, this is exactly why i broke up with you too."
ushijima frowned. "i thought we broke up because my penis was too small for you."
oikawa sputtered. a guffaw with matsukawa's issei's name written all over it broke out over his end of the line.
"obviously i was only-- you know what? forget it." oikawa sounded upset, genuinely. ushijima hadn't the faintest idea why. "seriously. why are you even calling me to talk about this? why are we even talking to each other. we stopped dating so long ago."
"you're the one who still wanted to be friends," ushijima reminded him.
"that's because i was trying to be the bigger person!" oikawa exclaimed, perhaps realizing at last how that was working out for him. the uncrinkled pride of it all.
*
