#sunatalks

.

.

.

on a random wednesday, you could hear the door to your flat unlock as suna trudged his way to the living room, hearing the thump of his gym bag fall.

coming out of the bedroom, you heard him sigh as you round the corner. “rough training session?” you asked, noticing him struggling to tape his hands.

suna glances up at you with that plain look on look face saying, “nah, just the usual.” injuries weren’t uncommon in volleyball, finger injuries especially. so, whenever suna shows up with a new injury, he would always brush it off like it was any other day. to him, it was just any other day — until you pulled up a chair in front of him and offered to help.

“here, let me do it,” taking the first aid kit and tape off of him, you grab his hand and traced your finger over the joints of his ring finger. “is it this one?”

suna hummed in reply, pleasantly surprised. his wrists relaxed at the warmth of your hands on his — always a comforting feeling. biting off the end of the tape, you delicately wrap it around his ring and middle finger.

“huh, you actually do like me,” he said with a ghost of a smirk as you worked your magic. you rolled your eyes, of course.

gently, with the pads of your finger, you unconsciously traced light circles around the knuckles of his pretty, calloused hand. and he twitched.

you pause for a minuscule of a second and, this time, your fingers glide higher to trace the edges of his sleeve tattoo that ended at his wrists. “y’know my physio friend said you should really be doing some daily hand stretches considering how many times you’ve messed up your fingers.”

“tell your physio friend they don’t have to worry. I make sure to do my finger exercises pretty much every night.” he couldn’t stop the snicker rising up after that innuendo — you make it too easy for him.

with another roll of your eyes and concealed grin, you pinched his ring finger out of annoyance. again, his hands jerked slightly as if a tiny current of electricity jolted through. and, this wasn’t pain considering suna’s stupidly high tolerance.

once could’ve been a coincidence but twice? your gaze drifted upwards only to find none other than your boyfriend’s face turned to the side, the tips of his ears a clear, flush, pink hue. tall, big, toned, nonchalant, ‘idgaf’ attitude suna rintarou was blushing.

the corner of your lips quirked up involuntarily at the realisation. seriously? delicately holding his left hand, you press down on his pulse point and skirt slow swirls along the ends of his sleeve tattoo with the pads of your fingertips.

“keep doing that and you won’t be sleeping tonight.” he mumbled the threat under his breath, sharp eyes finally meeting yours. the feeling of something coiling in your abdomen caught you off guard, the low tone of his voice always seemed to kindle a fire.

biting the inside of your cheek, you retort back, “well, I don’t think you’ll be of much service with your hands in this state.” you didn’t back down on teasing him. afterall, you’ve been hard at work trying to make him blush for weeks. who would’ve known that messing with the nerves along his hands and wrists was the key all along.

you trace the veins starting from suna’s wrists, a slight smile on your lips in victory. he felt a shiver run down his spine as he cursed, your name following in quick succession like a prayer, “d’you forget that I have a mouth? and a tongue?”

“how could I forget? you don’t ever shut up.” it was your turn to snicker, satisfied you succeeded in clapping back. finally finishing the job, you secured the last bit of the finger tape, looking up at rin with dark, challenging eyes.

he grinned through a huff, exhaling slowly as he leaned back on the couch, “alright. get up here and let me reward you for successfully making me blush then.”

needless to say, suna proved that he didn’t need his fingers to make you see stars. at least occupying his mouth and tongue for a nightly ‘exercise’ made him shut up for a while…