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Satori Tendou has always craved the unattainable.
The beautiful. The powerful. The godlike. All the things he would never associate with himself.
It’s not that he takes pleasure in teasing himself with things he can never have. Tendou is only a mild masochist. In his strange and marginally unbalanced mind, everything always comes down to guessing and chance. The world is his court and everything action has an associated risk or guarantee — success and failure. But with the unattainable, the chance is always the same: 0%.
It’s in the descriptor, after all. Unattainable, definition: not to be reached or achieved. Ever.
As depressing as those odds are, Tendou finds a certain comfort in absolute failure. He counts on it and, as such, never aspires too high. Some people would call it a defense mechanism. Tendou likes to call it avoiding disappointment and shamelessly taking pleasure in what he can get as a hedonistic opportunist. At his core, he’s a guy out to enjoy himself for as long as the ride lasts. Even if the ride thinks he’s a total wack job in the end.
Which is why Wakatoshi Ushijima pulls him in like he’s the center of all gravity. Like a moth to a flame, Tendou is drawn into something he should avoid again and again. But Tendou is a particularly clever moth. He keeps Ushijima’s light where he can see it and the heat far enough so it can’t burn him. But getting a little singed is inevitable.
Tendou takes it at face value when they start fooling around.
Wakatoshi Ushijima, Miracle Boy of Shiratorizawa, is sexually frustrated and has neither the time nor the know-how to woo any people he could actually be interested in. Satori Tendou, Red-Headed Step-Monster of Shiratorizawa, is so fucking desperate and starry eyed that he’s blind-sided when his ace captain makes a move on him in the gym supply closet after practice. Blind-sided, but not objecting in the slightest. Their secret rendezvous among the gym mats is demanding, sexy, and just the right flavor of risk and spontaneity for Tendou’s tastes.
Still, Ushijima’s boldness surprises him. Their ace captain is so unyielding and so generally unsociable that Tendou (and his teammates) have often speculated that Ushijima is just not into the usual stuff that fascinated high school boys. Consequently, there were plenty of team bets surrounding Ushijima’s virginity or lack thereof.
Tendou has the first hand knowledge to win those bets. But he doesn’t kiss and tell.
He expects it to be a one time sort of deal. Maybe two time, if he’s lucky. But their meetings become a repeated offense. He chalks Ushijima’s recurring interest up to the fact that Tendou is eager, flexible, and a bit of a freak who is willing to try anything at least once. He knows he isn’t much of a looker, but he’s a good lay. But that’s the end of it.
Tendou knows the limitations of his body, his face, and wildcard character. He knows he will never be everyone’s cup of tea. Despite being close friends and teammates, Tendou knows Ushijima will never see him as anything long term or steady. That’s not in the cards. Unattainable. 0% chance.
But Tendou knows there’s a 100% chance that Ushijima will rail him tonight.
When their coach announces an unexpected detour and an extra night of traveling due to a snowstorm, Tendou can’t help but slide his gaze across the van aisle at Ushijima. His ace looks right back at him, steady and stoic as ever. But Tendou has learned to read between the lines. He recognizes the heat behind Ushijima’s intense stare and the suggestion of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Tendou smugly crosses his arms and slouches back in his seat, spreading his gangly legs further apart despite Semi's indignant groaning.
As expected, Ushijima gets first pick for roommates. He picks Tendou, though it’s no surprise to anyone. Tendou is Ushijima’s official tag-along. They are friends, after all. Though the ‘with benefits’ part goes unseen by everyone else.
The inn is nothing to write home about. Just your average, run-of-the-mill place to stay for a night on the way to someplace else. It’s not a themed love hotel or anything (Tendou’s dying to try one of those before Ushijima gets wise and moves on), but Tendou is still excited. He devotedly trails behind Ushijima as they head for their assigned room, chattering to play off his overeagerness and jitters. A whole, uninterrupted night lies ahead and Tendou’s dirty mind races at a hundred kilometers an hour imagining everything they could do. He’s thankful he had the foresight to bring condoms.
“That guy had such an annoying face. You know, the one with the earring? Full of himself,” Tendou rattles on, “Their whole line up was pretty weak. So predictable and dull. Didn’t you think so, Wakatoshi-kun?” He watches his teammate’s back carefully. Tendou can’t wait to see it bare; all hard lines and shifting muscle. Watching Ushijima take off his shirt is a spiritual experience.
“Yeah,” Ushijima answers, toneless.
Tendou tilts his head and grins. “Though I did love the look of defeat from his little fan club in the balcony. That was worth it for me,” he says, “Can’t imagine you got anything out of that practice game though. Might’ve been a waste of a trip.”
“Hm.”
They stop at the last door in the hall. Ushijima slides a keycard into the lock mechanism. It fails on the first try with the flash of a small, red light.
Tendou’s narrow eyes scan the empty hall — no teammates, no coaches, no prying strangers. The anticipation buzzes under his skin, making him bold. Tendou steps forward, places a hand on the doorframe, and pushes his chest to Ushijima’s strong back. “We’ll have to figure out a way to make this trip worth your while? Hm, Wakatoshi-kun?” he asks, breath ghosting the nape of Ushijima’s neck. Goosebumps break out across the brunette’s skin and Tendou swells with pride.
“I don’t think this inn has a volleyball gym,” Ushijima says. Impatience edges at his words. He's more upset at the waste of a day than Tendou thought.
Though, as awe-inspiring and genius at volleyball as he is, Ushijima Wakatoshi is also a little bit dense. Tendou thinks it’s cute.
“Mm, but there are other ways to get exercise. You just gotta think outside the box,” Tendou says. He bites down on his lip to suppress a giddy smile, long fingers hovering over the hem of Ushijima’s jacket.
“I...have been told I’m not very good at that.”
The card fails again.
“I think I’m a pretty creative guy myself,” Tendou says, lips brushing against his captain’s ear. “I can give you a few pointers.”
“I know a lot of bodyweight workout techniques,” Ushijima says.
“Was thinking of something more cardio based. To work on your stamina.” Tendou presses a palm against Ushijima’s hip. His thumb dips beneath the fabric of his captain’s jacket and shirt, grazing against warm skin to test the waters. It could be Tendou’s hopeful imagination, but he swears Ushijima shivers at his touch. Like he’s just as eager; like he wants Tendou just as much in return.
And then the warning comes: “Tendou.”
The redhead pulls his hand back. He’s overstepped. Tendou knows what they have is a delicate balance. Ushijima seems to have some unspoken rules of engagement and Tendou usually navigates them with ease. But in a setting other than a gym closet and the club room, he’s gotten ahead of himself.
Ushijima tries the card again, the light flashes green, and he opens the door to quickly step inside. Tendou knows he’s messed up. Ushijima is deliberate with all his movements, but he doesn’t rush. He has a process — a steady rhythm to which he lives his life — and Tendou has memorized it like a melody.
It’s a small room with one bed, but Tendou doesn’t care about much else. He closes the door behind him, eyes on Ushijima. The ace captain unceremoniously drops his bag at the foot of the bed. He shucks off his jacket and tosses it aside. Tendou has seen Ushijima angry before. It’s a silent, tense anger — like a kettle rattling on the stove, on edge of screaming but never reaching the boiling point. More importantly, it’s not pleasant to be the object of his ire. Tendou personally thinks the anger is a strange overreaction for harmless flirtation, but that’s not his place to say. Because Ushijima could take away the privilege of their agreement at any time.
So Tendou backtracks. “Wakatoshi-kun, I was just messing with you. C’mon, no one was around. I won’t do — ”
Ushijima corners him so fast, Tendou barely has the time to drop his bag.
Unaware of his strength, Ushijima nearly slams Tendou against the back of the door in his haste. Big, sure hands grip Tendou’s narrow waist; fingers pressing deep with a kind of brutal possessiveness. Their lips crush together and it takes a few moments for them to get on the same page and kiss in a way that isn’t just clacking teeth and hungry tongues.
Ushijima isn’t mad at all, Tendou realizes, as his captain bullies a knee between his legs. The redhead breaks their kiss in a delighted gasp when a muscled thigh pushes against his crotch. Even more gratifying is the outline of Ushijima’s hardened cock against Tendou’s own leg. He isn’t mad at all. Ushijima is just furiously horny.
Tendou feeds off that raw desire; that feeling of being wanted. It’s intoxicating for a guy like him — someone who spent their whole life on the outside looking in. He doubts he will ever have relationships like others have, but what he has with Ushijima feels close enough. It has to be enough.
Ushijima swallows Tendou’s gasp and seizes the opportunity to push his tongue past Tendou’s lips. Most of Ushijima’s body is hard, so any softness always takes Tendou by surprise. His silken hair. His lips. His tongue. The warmth that slides against the tip of Tendou’s own tongue makes him dizzy. He barely has room to breathe, but he doesn't care and the coy, almost flirtatious way Ushijima licks against the cut of his teeth as he pulls away makes Tendou chase for more.
Tendou avoids kissing if he can because it feels too romantic. Yet another one of his eccentricities: thinking that making out is more intimate than bending over and letting someone get off between his thighs. But Ushijima seems partial to kissing as of late.
When they first started out, their rendezvous were straight to the point. Foreplay and romance required more time, which they often did not have.
And, if Tendou was being brutally honest, Ushijima used to be a terrible kisser.
Tendou used to liken kissing Ushijima to sucking face with a robot whose entire knowledge of kissing was gleaned through a poorly illustrated 'How To Kiss' instruction manual. With a little bit of coaching and a concerted effort on Ushijima’s part, making out became a lot more enjoyable. A lot less wet. And, for whatever reason — maybe it was pride in his newly gleaned skillset — Ushijima got a lot more interested in it.
There are instances where Ushijima doesn’t even want sex. He just comes to Tendou’s dorm room to make out, steals the next issue of Shonen Jump, and leaves with a quiet ‘goodnight'. Tendou doesn’t understand what that is about. Nice as the habit is, Tendou does find it frustrating. Because if he closes his eyes, kisses Ushijima slow and easy, teases him for reading the ads in magazines with a soft smile, and misses him after they say ‘goodnight’ to one another; it feels like they could be something more. And that’s a dangerous, all too optimistic dream.
So Tendou keeps Ushijima and his increasingly skillful lips at bay by kissing back hard. He moans and nips and snaps like a wild animal. When Ushijima gets too soft, Tendou reminds him who he’s dealing with — a monster who bites and claws, not to be caged.
Consequently, Tendou gets what he wants that way. Because to regain control, Ushijima uses his strength. Which is, in Tendou’s opinion, the sexiest thing in the world.
Ushijima reaches up, takes a fist of red hair, and yanks Tendou’s head back with a ruthless tug. Tendou’s face and eyes snap to the ceiling with a moan. He drapes his arms over Ushijima’s shoulders, limp at the wrists as he lets his captain do what he wants. They shamelessly grind together, the door knocking hard against its frame and hinges in a tempo that would be unmistakable to any passerby.
Tendou entertains the fantasy of one of their teammates walking by. They wouldn’t know who was behind the door, but the accidental voyeurism adds an extra thrill to it all.
It’s a shock to his system each time Ushijima drives his hips forward, pulling Tendou’s hips down at the same time a strong hand. They’ve gone from 0 to 100 in a flash and Tendou is mildly worried he’s going to embarrass himself and come fast like some desperate virgin. But Tendou isn’t really into control. He’s into pleasure, taking what he wants, and not apologizing for it.
So when Ushijima sucks on the crook of his neck and rolls his strong body against Tendou’s, he doesn’t hold his voice. He moans and gasps and strings together sounds that could be Ushijima’s name. He doesn’t get to be loud when they’re getting off at school, so he intends to take full advantage of it now.
“C’mon, c’mon — just like that — fuck — harder — c’mon — oh my god, I needed this so fucking bad — ah!” Tendou gasps at the ceiling, breaking into an unhinged giggle when Ushijima bites hard enough to leave a mark.
He wants Ushijima to leave a mark. He wants everyone to ask about it. Then he can act oblivious and let people make their own assumptions. But he’ll know. Ushijima will know. And Tendou will tug at his jersey collar during practice and make Ushijima’s gaze go to his neck over and over again just to tease him.
“You’re loud. People will hear,” Ushijima pants against the shell of his ear.
“Let them,” Tendou laughs, straining against his captain’s grip to look him in the eye. “Let them hear — ah! — and be fuckin’ jealous — that they’re not gettin’ it as good as we are — fuck you’re hard, Toshi-kun — ”
At the name, Ushijima’s hips roll to a halt. “Stop it, Tendou.”
The fingers in his hair loosen, so Tendou tilts his head to look directly at his captain. “Make me,” he challenges.
Ushijima’s eyes turn black as coal, the brown of his iris completely swallowed by pupil. He looks like he does in the rare instance of meeting an actual obstacle on the court. Mouth drawn into a thin line. Singular focus. Unwavering. Terrifying. And Tendou is briefly reminded that, like himself, Wakatoshi Ushijima is also something of a monster. Another flavor, but a monster all the same.
The ace takes one deliberate step back. Tendou stays plastered to the back of the door. The loss of pressure between Tendou’s legs almost makes him cry.
“Down,” Ushijima demands.
Tendou knows Ushijima’s intentions exactly. But he’s frozen; struck dumb with how mindblowingly sexy Ushijima’s voice sounds giving an order. Tendou’s cock twitches against the thin fabric of his shorts.
“Down,” he says again, firmer.
“Well this is new,” Tendou says with a wide smile, hiding the fact that he’s practically shaking. He knows what to do — he’s blown Ushijima before — but the approach is all new. The carnal, black gaze is exciting and novel.
The carpet scratches against his skin when he sinks to his knees. The bulge in front of Tendou’s face is almost unbelievable.
“You really are blessed in so many departments, Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou says, curving his long fingers over the waistband of Ushijima’s shorts and underwear. His captain is silent, transfixed by every move Tendou makes. And Tendou is obsessed with the attention.
He pulls both layers halfway down Ushijima’s strong thighs and his hard on springs free. The most beautiful cock Tendou has ever seen nudges against his cheek, full and ready, and Tendou thinks he actually might start salivating.
It’s like Ushijima was made in a lab somewhere with Tendou’s specifications in mind. He loves his cock. He loves the lines of muscle dipping into his hips. He loves the cut of Ushijima’s calves and the jagged scar on his ankle. And when Ushijima reaches out a hand and takes Tendou’s jaw, he loves the little mole in the crook of his hand and the firm but gentle way he forces Tendou to look up.
On his knees, with his bandaged hands sliding down Ushijima’s sides and his gaze pointed up, it feels like worship. Like paying service to a god. Beautiful. Powerful. Unattainable.
“Open,” he says.
Tendou obeys the command. Ushijima lightly presses the pad of his thumb against the edge of Tendou’s bottom teeth before sliding it against his tongue. Tendou closes his lips around the digit and sucks like he’s supposed to. He swirls his tongue around and over, reminding Ushijima of what his talented mouth and all too diligent tongue can do.
He tilts his head back, letting Ushijima’s thumb slide from the back of his mouth to the tip of his tongue and off with a playful lick. “You’re getting — ”
Ushijima pushes two fingers past Tendou’s lips and he almost gags from surprise. “Quietly,” the towering young man instructs.
Tendou half smiles around the fingers pressing against his tongue. He hums, contented, and swallows down to Ushijima’s knuckles. He can feel his fingertips pressing against the back of his throat, urging his gag reflex to react. But Tendou closes his eyes and fights against it. He lets Ushijima in as far as he can go, tasting the salt of his hands all the way across his tongue. He shallowly bobs his head as he sucks, like he would if his lips were wrapped around Ushijima’s cock. He presses his tongue between Ushijima’s fingers, forcing them to part, and licks around them one by one, slow and sensual.
The pressure between his own legs grows. Tendou hasn’t even touched himself. He's too focused on his captain’s strong fingers and wide palms. They’ve never done this before. But Tendou likes it. A lot.
When he swirls is tongue around the second finger, Ushijima moans. At least, Tendou thinks he hears a moan. But he’s too fucked out of his mind to say for sure.
Then, Ushijima’s fingers are out and wiping slick spit over his lips, coating them for what comes next. Tendou barely has time blink his eyes open before the soft head of Ushijima’s cock presses against his parted lips. He closes his mouth in a kiss on instinct and tastes the bitter pearl of precum on the tip of his tongue.
Usually, Tendou would take his time. Tendou knows a lot of tricks with his lips and tongue. He would lick, mouth, and kiss up and down Ushijima’s thick shaft until he was practically purple with need. He’d tease and play until his lips were puffy, pliable, and wet. Tendou would enjoy himself to his heart’s content. But that’s because Ushijima lets him. Ushijima, as a less experienced lover, doesn’t demand much. He’s content with just about anything, including being edged to the point where it’s almost painful. But the mood is different this time.
The message in Ushijima’s dark gaze is less ‘please blow me’ and more ‘I’m going to fuck your mouth’. And Tendou thinks that new development is the best thing in his life since Ushijima learned how to hit his prostate.
Tendou opens his mouth and rests his tongue at the edge of his lips, careful of his teeth as Ushijima eases in. He drops his jaw wide to accommodate and the corners of his lips burn with the stretch. But the weight of it feels incredible, so hot and heavy resting against his tongue. Tendou’s eyes sting as Ushijima pushes his cock deeper. He blinks away the tears because he wants to see the expression on his captain’s face as he bottoms out. Tendou needs to see it.
And what a beautiful face he has. Half lidded eyes cast down, teeth clenched as he tries to follow his own rule of silence. Strong jaw. Fierce eyes. A thin, but lovely shaped mouth. Beads of sweat have formed on his brow and his chest heaves with each labored breath. Ushijima has no idea how handsome he is. If he did, someone else would be on their knees in Tendou’s place. So Tendou feels compelled to prove himself worthy of the privilege.
He takes Ushijima’s hips in his hands, steels himself, and pulls Ushijima’s body the rest of the way. Tendou’s lips meet skin, his nose presses against a patch of neatly trimmed hair, and the tip of Ushijima’s cock bumps against the back of his throat. Tendou’s eyes nearly roll back in their sockets.
“Satori,” Ushjima chokes.
Tendou hums around the weight in his mouth.
After that, things get hazy. It’s all sensation and heat, adrenaline and appetite. Ushijima’s fingers tangled through his hair might ground his body, but Tendou’s soul is elsewhere. Somewhere in Nirvana.
Ushijima’s rhythm is inconsistent at first, as he adjusts his grip and finds his pace. Guided by his own pleasure, he figures out what he wants: a steady, vigorous pattern that makes Tendou’s head spin. The thrust of Ushijima’s hips is sharp. He isn’t ruthless, but his cock stretches the back of Tendou’s throat as it pushes through, regardless of his gag reflex or need to breathe. He takes and takes and takes, filling up Tendou’s mouth over and over with tireless enthusiasm.
And Tendou just loosely holds Ushijima's hips for support. He let’s his mind go blank. Without any time or room to swallow, a mix of spit and precum drips freely from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. He’s a mess. In more ways than one.
But Tendou’s sloppy work doesn't seem to turn Ushijima off in the slightest. His focus on Tendou is unwavering. It’s as if watching Tendou take him gives Ushijima just as much pleasure as the wet heat around his cock. The redhead swelters under the attention. He internally begs Ushijima to look away. It’s too much. Too intimate.
He’s so goddamn beautiful.
What Tendou still doesn’t have a grasp on is why. Ushijima undoubtedly has his pick of the academy and the surrounding schools. Tendou knows about a couple hundred students who would react positively to being pulled into a supply closet by Wakatoshi Ushijima. People who are prettier and more conventionally charming than Tendou, who are probably just fine at giving blowjobs and bending over.
Maybe not though, because Tendou can’t imagine anyone in Shiratorizawa can deepthroat like he can.
It has crossed Tendou’s mind that Ushijima may not be as thick as he looks. That he may have caught on to the way Tendou slides his tongue over his bottom lip every time Ushijima goes in for a spike. So maybe Ushijima is just as much of an opportunist as Tendou is. If that’s the case, he’s okay with being used. He wants to be used. Because, in a way, he’s using his captain right back.
But if they’re going to continue with their arrangement, he needs Ushijima to stop looking at him like that.
The end comes fast.
“I — I’m — ” is all Ushijima can mutter as a warning.
Tendou swells with pride. He’s reduced Ushijima to a panting mess. Even if he’s only half conscious to see it, Tendou can tell by the strained tone in his voice that Ushijima has all but forgotten about anything except chasing his climax. He moans — low and needy — around his captain’s cock one more time knowing that the reverberation will finish the job.
It does.
Ushijima’s brows knit tight together and his fingers dig against Tendou’s scalp as he tugs him in one last time, seated so deep Tendou can’t even breathe through his nose. The sensation of Ushijima pulsing against his tongue and a warm coating on the back of his throat sends Tendou over the edge.
Cumming untouched is a jarring experience for Tendou. At first, he doesn’t understand what is happening. All he knows is that his body feels like it’s on fire. His hips rock against air, desperate to find friction, and his instincts urge him to pull off Ushijima’s cock just a little bit — enough to get his bearings. But the brunette holds his head right where he wants him — forcing him to take every generous drop — and Tendou doesn’t have the strength (nor does he really want) to push away.
So when the tension finally does snap, Tendou’s head goes blissfully empty. The wave is intense and long; it’s hard to tell where it begins and ends. He whimpers, vision blurry as he gives in. But Tendou doesn’t even have the mind to turn his eyes up. The taut expanse of skin on Ushijima’s lower abdomen is all he can see — all he cares about as he loses all awareness to his senses. Just mind-numbing, perfect indulgence.
In what might be the gentlest and filthiest gesture Ushijima has ever shown, he carefully eases Tendou’s mouth off his cock. Tendou coughs and sputters, gasping for air in ragged breaths. He drunkenly turns and smears his puffy, used lips against the inside of Ushijima’s wrist, still in need of stimulation as he comes off his high.
And when Tendou finally emerges on the other side — dreamy and satisfied — he chuckles against his captain’s skin. He knocks Ushijima’s hand away, careens forward, and rests his forehead against a relaxed thigh. “Fuckin’ hell, Wakatoshi,” he rasps. Tendou coughs again and wipes the spit on his chin with the back of his hand. Mostly spit — he swallowed everything else. A hiccup escapes, surprises him, and he laughs to himself, his euphoria offbeat if not on the edge of being deranged.
Ushijima, a step ahead of Tendou in regards to recovery, rests a palm against his temple. “Was that too much?” he asks. Tendou swears he hears genuine concern in his captain’s voice.
Tendou used throat rumbles with a chuckle. “Too much? You’ve been holding back on me. Where’d all that come from, huh?”
“I don’t know. I just…”
“Hm?”
“...I just wanted this,” Ushijima says, gently swiping his thumb over Tendou’s abused lips. There’s something too fond in his eyes. Too soft. Dangerous.
Tendou nips at the pad of his thumb to remind Ushijima of his fangs. “Well. You got what you wanted.” Even though he bites hard, the ace doesn’t pull his hand away.
Tendou shifts to stand and it’s more difficult than he anticipates after kneeling for so long. Ushijima offers a hand and the redhead hesitantly takes it. He wobbles as he gets to his feet, knees weak and rubbed raw. He should have had the foresight to keep his knee pads on. As a thank you gesture, Tendou pulls Ushijima’s underwear and shorts back up. He does so quickly, careful to tuck his softening, sensitive parts away. He keeps it transactional, no lingering touches or romantic eye contact.
Ushijima’s fingers go for Tendou’s waistband and Tendou stops his eager hand by the wrist. “Oh, that’s already taken care of, Wakatoshi-kun.”
“But I didn’t — ”
“I’m a little shocked myself, but trust me. I’m satisfied,” Tendou smiles, risking a kiss to the corner of Ushijima’s mouth. He doesn’t seem entirely disgusted.
Tendou is restless. After nearly being suffocated by Ushijima’s presence, he needs a little space to breathe. So he pretends like he’s fully recovered from the most intense blowjob he’s ever given, picks up his discarded bag, and brushes past Ushijima like nothing has happened. Like his whole body isn’t still vibrating from the orgasm and his underwear doesn't feel wet and uncomfortable. Tendou drops his bag on the other side of the bed and revolves, unwrapping the bandages from his fingers. “Though you’re welcome to stick your hands down there, rifle through my shorts, and find out for yourself,” he says, cheekily.
“No, I will take your word for it,” Ushijima responds, shy in the way he shuffles.
“Probably for the best,” Tendou jerks his head toward the bathroom. His neck is sore. “You gonna take a shower first or me?”
“You may go first.”
“You’re a gentleman, Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou hums, quickly pulling out his change of clothes.
He’s running away. It’s a classic. Move on before they realize you’re attached. Pretend like it didn’t mean anything. Hit it and quit it. Tendou escapes to the bathroom as quickly as he’s able. Even though Ushijima suddenly joining him in a shower is one of Tendou’s recurring wet dreams, he locks the door for good measure. The hot water washes away the caked sweat, the cum between his legs, and the ache in his lower back. But it doesn’t wipe away the complicated feelings that have already taken root deep in Tendou’s chest. Those are too knotted and intricate; more entangled by what just transpired between them.
Tendou emerges from the bathroom with his red hair hanging limp around his cheeks and tired eyes, dressed in loose fitting pajamas, and feeling only half as refreshed as he would like. He’s not sure if he’ll make it another round.
On the other hand, Ushijima’s tireless stamina operates just as well on the court as it does off. He seems to signal that he’s ready and interested by brushing a hand through Tendou's wet, red hair and over the sensitive skin of his nape. A shiver flutters down Tendou’s spine. Ushijima wordlessly goes for his shower, leaving Tendou to his own devices.
And in the quiet, where his mind can’t get lost in the haze of hot water, Tendou begins to second guess himself. Maybe he came on a little strong. Maybe that’s why the end got so awkward and Ushijima seemed uncomfortable. Tendou doesn’t want to accidentally collapse the fragile house of cards around them. Tendou flings his body on the bed. He chews on his cuticles. He thinks of other ways to impress Ushijima. He internally remarks on how ugly his hands look.
He goes to brush his teeth so he doesn’t bite his fingers off. The mint flavoring stings the corners of his lips.
Ushijima comes out of the shower with nothing but a towel hanging around his waist, yet again suggesting they’ll be doing something else before they actually sleep. Tendou keeps his eyes on the sink and pretends he doesn’t notice.
“Hey, if you don’t want me sayin’ dirty stuff when we’re messing around,” Tendou casually says, mouth full of foam and toothbrush hanging idly from one hand, “I won’t. Just thought I’d give it a try, see if it added to the mood or whatever.” He pretends as if he hasn’t been carefully choosing his words ever since Ushijima left his sight.
He watches Ushijima’s shoulders tense through the reflection in the mirror and takes it as an answer when the ace doesn’t say anything. Tendou spits.
“Yeah, I won’t do it again. Probably wasn’t as hot as I thought it was anyways,” he concedes. Tendou cups water into his mouth and keeps his gaze on the sink so he doesn’t give away his disappointment. He swishes, spits, and pulls a towel from the nearby rack to try his face.
“I liked it.”
Tendou’s face whips in Ushijima’s direction. “Huh?”
Dark eyes watch him back. But there’s a reserve in his expression that wasn’t there before. “I told you to stop because I didn’t want people around us to feel uncomfortable,” Ushijima says, sitting on the bed’s edge. He clasps his hands together; twists them. “But I liked it. Very much.”
Satori Tendou doesn’t blush. He doesn’t. The heat rising in his cheeks isn’t a blush.
“I make a lot of people uncomfortable. That ain’t nothing new.” God forbid he take a compliment gracefully.
“You don’t make me uncomfortable,” the other says in earnest.
“You keep saying stuff like that, Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou says, tossing his toothbrush into a plastic cup on the counter, “and I might just fall in love with you.”
He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have said that.
Tendou feels like he has suddenly spiked a fever. He carefully glances up at Ushijima’s reflection. The ace’s eyebrows are lifted higher on his forehead; eyes wider than normal. His mouth is parted, but no sound escapes. Surprise? Thinly veiled disgust? Or is it...hope?
Either way, Tendou wants to cover up his faux pas and get down to business. He laughs, a little forced and hammy. “I’m just kidding, don’t get so scared,” Tendou eases. He peels his shirt over his head, balls it up, and throws it in the corner near his belongings. He could have done that sexier — been more seductive and coy — but it wouldn’t have mattered.
Because Ushijima isn’t even looking at Tendou. His eyes are fixed on the carpet, still wringing his hands together.
Tendou leans back against the counter, wishing he hadn’t just exposed himself. “You seem like you got something on your mind, so just come out with it. I ain’t some delicate flower,” he says, acerbic.
He expects a request. A critique maybe. An admission that he can’t go another round and would just like to go to sleep. At worst, pulling the plug. What Tendou does not expect is:
“Tendou, what do people do on dates?”
The redhead blinks, anxious thoughts flatlining as he tries to reroute his brain. “What do you mean?”
“Where do people go on dates?” Ushijima asks, “What do they do?”
Tendou is confused. He’s the last person anyone should go to for information on dating. But Ushijima awaits his answer with a somber and thoughtful expression — so Tendou feels compelled to give it. Even if he has no clue why Ushijima is suddenly so interested.
“Depends on how boring they are,” Tendou shrugs, “Sometimes they go to the movies. Or dinner. Coffee. Shopping. They hold hands. Kiss. Fuck. I dunno, a lot of it sounds expensive and dull. ‘Cept for the fucking part.”
“Hm.” Ushijima nods. Then asks, “What do you consider a good date option?”
Tendou raises his eyebrows. “Like me, personally?”
Ushijima nods.
And Tendou has no idea where the fuck this is going. But he’ll humor Ushijima for as long as he needs to talk about this ridiculous subject.
“Never thought about it before,” he says. “Maybe… a picnic? I dunno. That kinda sounds stupid too. But never done it, so how would I know?”
A picnic sounds so benign. So cliché. But Tendou likes the casualness of it. He likes the rustic charm and the possibility that Ushijima — or rather, the person he was into — would go out of their way to get Tendou’s favorite kind of sandwich and a cafe dessert for them to share. Something with chocolate. A taste he could kiss on Ushijima’s lips.
“Yeah,” Tendou nods, “Something simple like that. Eating sandwiches while lying under some big trees. Maybe near an outdoor volleyball court so we could play a little casual one-on-one. Work up a little tension. Then let it all out at a love hotel.”
But not actually Ushijima. Just someone else who also liked volleyball and had adventurous bedroom tastes.
Tendou then asks a question to which he does not actually want to know the answer. “Plan on asking out some girl you’ve got your eye on, Wakatoshi-kun?” He crosses his arms and smirks, pretends to be teasing.
But when Ushijima answers, “No. I don’t cheat.” Tendou feels the ground fall out from underneath him.
He feels...nauseous. Because of course this day would come. Clearly, there is someone else already. Someone steady. Ushijima said it with such a straight face. But Tendou knows, more than anyone, Ushijima is too simple and genuine to be needlessly cruel. He doesn’t know how he’s trampled on Tendou’s heart, because he didn’t even know it was there to begin with. And neither did Tendou.
The first three stages of grief hit him in quick succession. Tendou unclenches his jaw to hiss, “Right.” He goes to where his crumpled shirt sits in a heap on the floor, aware of the distance he keeps between himself and Ushijima. Tendou shakes it out, pulls it over his head, and turns on Ushijima with what he thinks is a passive, unbothered expression. “Then why the hell did I blow you just now?” he asks.
So foolish.
What was he expecting?
“I’m confused,” Ushijima sits still as a statue, previously listless hands resting on his knees.
“Yeah, I’d say,” Tendou says. He holds his palms up. “Look, I’m always down for fun. But I’m not gonna be someone’s side piece. That’s just too messy and stressful for my taste.”
“Okay.”
Tendou never imagined the end would be so anti-climatic. Maybe a little uneventful but not so… flat.
He swallows, hard. “Great. So figure out what you want and get back to me.”
Tendou can’t be upset. He doesn’t have the right. But just wishes Ushijima had the self awareness and sensitivity to wait until the morning. Not just thirty minutes after Tendou tasted him on his tongue and scraped his knees for him. Not when they have to share a single bed for the first time and Tendou has to wake up with Ushijima’s face right there. Tendou shuffles on his shoes, not bothering with socks or properly lacing them. He just needs out.
“Gonna go bother the others for a bit. See if any of them got a bigger room than us. Don’t wait up, Wakatoshi-kun.” In all honesty, he’s hoping to convince Goshiki to switch places with him. The excuse will be lame, but at least he won’t have to suffer.
Tendou heads for the door, hands balled up in his pockets. And for the first time since Tendou has known him, Ushijima reads between the lines of his words.
“Are you angry with me?” he asks.
The redhead stops in his tracks. He scowls at the door, stretches his neck, and considers his words carefully. It won’t do any good to get into a fight. They still have to be teammates. Tendou still wants Ushijima’s friendship. He’s never been good at diplomacy, but he can sugar coat his brutal honesty just a little bit.
He turns his frown into a smile and revolves. “Nah. I could never be angry with you, Wakatoshi. I just don’t want any hurt feelings, ya know? Last thing we need is to be the center of some Shiratorizawa scandal. Can’t have rumors following you around when you go pro, now would ya?”
“Okay,” Ushijima says. At least one of them feels relief.
Tendou waves his hand. “No hard feelings, Wakatoshi-kun,” he says and turns to leave once more.
“Is Saturday okay?”
Tendou freezes. “For what?”
“A picnic.”
Tendou blinks.
“What?”
“You said you wanted to go on a picnic.”
“What?”
Ushijima’s eyes dart around. “Or we could do something else.”
Tendou stares. His brain slowly clicks the pieces together, but the puzzle still doesn’t make a picture he understands. He shakes his head. There’s only so many possible, logical guesses to make from his captain’s words. So Tendou asks the most improbable of all. Just to get it out of the way.
“Are you… asking me on a date?”
“Yes,” Ushijima says. He shifts and shuffles his feet in a sheepish way. “I know I should have asked you sooner. I apologize. Reon told me he and his girlfriend go on an average of two dates per week. I realize we haven’t even been on one. I feel as though that is my error.”
Tendou feels like he’s gone crazy.
The redhead hooks his hands on his hips and presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Huh,” Tendou hums. “And, just so we’re on the same page here, we would go on a date because we’re… dating? Like, currently dating? You and I?” He points between himself and Ushijima, just to be emphatically clear.
“Yes,” Ushijima nods.
“Like,” Tendou hesitates, “... boyfriends.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Like, I’m your boyfriend and — ”
“ — I’m yours. I believe that’s how it works. Unless I am mistaken.”
Ushijima’s expression changes little during their exchange. A light, colorful flush appears on his cheeks but, other than that, he seems completely genuine. And Tendou knows he doesn’t joke. Not like that. Not even if the whole team egged him on. Not even if they tricked him into playing some elaborate, humiliating hoax on Tendou. Ushijima simply wouldn’t understand. That kind of malicious intent isn’t in his bones.
Tendou feels the emotions rising as his chest begins to tremble. “Um, remind me how long have we been dating?” he asks. He risks a step in his captain’s direction.
“... a month, two weeks, and five days,” Ushijima answers without hesitation.
“That’s specific.”
“I remember dates well.”
Tendou licks his lips. “So that time. In the gym closet — ”
“When I confessed to you,” Ushijima says, as if it’s the truest thing in the universe.
Tendou thinks his head is going to explode.
“Remind me how you confessed.”
“Well,” the very masculine, half naked, god of a young man who just got blown into another dimension not even an hour before gets embarrassed for a moment when he says, “I kissed you.”
“Oh, of course. That made your intentions obvious.”
“Yes. I thought so.”
Tendou digs the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Oh my god, Wakatoshi…”
Ushijima stands, mildly alarmed. “What is it?”
Tendou doesn’t know which of them is more simple: himself or Ushijima.
He prides himself on being able to read people, at least most of the time. But Ushijima is his match. All his life, Tendou’s shrewd eyes have watched for weaknesses, manipulation tactics, and tells that give away a person’s motive. It’s his defense against a world that turns him away for being different. If he knows what to expect, it won’t hurt him as much. But Ushijima’s canvas is blank, save for the obvious. Volleyball, strength, leadership, diligence, hayashi rice. It’s all inked there in elegant, traditional brush strokes for everyone to see.
Tendou disregards the obvious because the world has taught him to read between the lines. To see past the surface smiles and the pleasantries to the intention behind it all. He’s been trying to read between Ushijima’s lines for years, determined to find the actual thing that makes him tick. But in his fruitless and futile search for the malice that does not exist, he seems to have missed his own name scrawled among the obvious.
Tendou runs his hands back through his hair and laughs, amazed. “I… I missed our one month anniversary.”
Ushijima’s frown drops even further. “Ah. So did I,” he admits, “I’m not so aware of dating customs. I’m sorry. Perhaps we’ll do something for the two month mark?”
Tendou places a hand over his heart and clutches at the threadbare fabric of his t-shirt. He turns his eyes to the ceiling and breathes in deep. “I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I think that’s what this is. I’m about to die.”
His captain looks genuinely alarmed. “Should I call emergency services?”
Actual tears are going to fall from his eyes if he doesn’t stop Ushijima from saying all the right things. He has a reputation to uphold. Especially now that he knows a relationship with Ushijima is at stake. He wants to ask: ‘Why? Why would you ever want me?’ But he’ll ask that when he’s good and ready to hear the answer. Because Tendou has a feeling he won’t take what Ushijima will say gracefully.
Tendou carelessly knocks off his shoes, pushes a palm against his captain’s bare chest, and gently urges him back. The backs of Ushijima’s knees hit the bed and he sits with one more firm press.
“I’ll be okay,” Tendou says, crawling to straddle Ushijima’s lap. His boyfriend’s lap. The towel all but slips from Ushijima’s hips, the corner just barely covering the parts that matter. “It’s a good heart attack.”
“Is there such a thing?” Ushijima asks, puzzled.
Tendou grins, absolutely besotted. “Yeah. Read about it in a medical journal somewhere.”
“I believe you are making a joke.”
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Just touch me, Wakatoshi.”
Tendou guides Ushijima’s hands, but he doesn’t have to be told twice. Strong, calloused hands slide underneath his shirt, exploring the skin along his sides and lower back. Ushijima’s fingers linger on the knobs of Tendou’s spine and the edges of his ribs. The sensation is the same, but the feeling is different. “So you’re not upset?” he asks.
“Nah,” Tendou shrugs, playing cool. He lazily drapes his arms over Ushijima’s shoulders. “On the contrary, I’m gonna ride you so hard you’re gonna see God tonight. I hope you can take it, Miracle Boy.”
“I’ll manage,” Ushijima says, cracking a grin, “But can we…”
“Can we what? Anything, anything,” Tendou says, revealing his hand all at once. Ushijima could ask him to fuck while they did underwater basket weaving and Tendou wouldn’t even question it. He’s got hearts in his eyes and a growing hard on, so propriety is out the window.
“Can we switch? I would like to try… riding you.”
The shyness that comes with his request almost sends Tendou to another plane of reality. He stares at Ushijima, eyes wide. He can’t take another major development like that in one night. He just can’t.
“Was that a strange request?” Ushijima asks. Then, when Tendou dramatically clutches his heart, “Are you having another heart attack?”
“Yep.”
“A good one?”
Tendou kisses Ushijima’s bottom lip. “A very good one, Toshi-kun.”