Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yamaguchi wakes up inexplicably dizzy, a drop of sweat slowly making its way down his forehead and pooling at his the junction of his freckled neck and collarbone, and his skin itchy and flushed while the world swims slowly and the ceiling becomes one with the floor in front of his eyes. His dorm room is disproportionately hot, and he’s sure that he’s an unpleasant shade of red now because of it, but on further inspection he realizes that it’s not actually his dorm room that he’s in, and the heat pooling up in his face and clinging to his torso are because a) the window’s been shut tight and plastered over with black electrical tape, and b) also possibly because there’s a person wrapped around him, hugging his sides with their face buried in his neck and mumbling lips slightly moist and wet against his skin.

After sitting up frantically and rubbing his eyes with his balled up fists in an attempt to make the vibrating surroundings still for a moment, he comes to the conclusion that he has no idea where he is.

Nothing seems familiar, and the person shifting against him has a shock of blond hair and soft indentations from what he can tell are probably sports goggles carved into their face, and although he’s endeared for a moment, although he’s curious about the frown lines around his lips and the scrunched up temples that can’t seem to relax even when this mysterious boy is fast asleep, he’s also starting to panic a little because he takes a glance under the covers and his worst fears are confirmed-he’s not wearing pants (where did his pants go???) and he’s only wearing one of his green socks on his right foot and the other casually abandoned him for this stranger’s left foot. His t-shirt, boldly declaring TACOS and nothing else, is starting to ride up, and when he tries to get out of bed and root around for his pants on the floor, the stranger protests with a -little distressed hum at the back of his throat, and pulls him back tightly into his arms so he can bury his head further in the crook of Yamaguchi’s neck and continue sleeping.

He’s strong and Yamaguchi’s no match for him, and before he knows it he’s being pulled back into the tiny twin sized bed and minute rays of light are streaming in through the tiny cracks in the window that are not marred by the tape, and there’s knees knocking against his and fingertips brushing against his tummy and he shudders at first because if there’s one thing that Yamaguchi Tadashi would never do, it’s having a one night stand. Especially with a person as attractive as this; even though they’re lying down, Yamaguchi can tell that this man has generous height and his hair feels soft and silky under his fingertips when he finally accepts the situation that he’s in and musters up the courage to run his hands through it to pass the time. He’s turned on his side, and he looks up in wonder at the face of the boy sleeping in front of him so deeply, is mesmerized for a moment by how close they’re faces are and if he really did sleep with him, then it’s no big deal to just lean in and kis-

He wakes up, finally, and Yamaguchi’s already inflamed face probably looks as red as a fire engine.

“Blwwah?” is the first thing that he says, and, whoops, Yamaguchi’s accidentally falling in love with this clueless blond idiot.

“Um, hi.” Yamaguchi says, because he doesn’t know how else to break up the silence that seems to draw on as Tsukishima rubs his eyes and feel around for his glasses. Yamaguchi realizes that he’s looking for something and quickly starts overturning pillows and pulling up the sheets to help him.

“Here, I found them…” he trails off, his fingers clutching the black, rectangular frames tightly, and Tsukishima’s about to take them from him but before he can reach for them Yamaguchi puts them on for him instead, adjusting the handles over his ears and pressing up the middle high enough on the bridge of his nose. Tsukishima blinks, once, twice, three times, and Yamaguchi is starting to get more and more nervous, and he’s about to apologize (for what, he can’t imagine, it seems like they’ve already slept together, how is pushing up his glasses any worse…?) but Tsukishima looks away for a moment and Yamaguchi’s eyes widen because...is he blushing? This stoic, cool looking guy who picked him up last night is...embarrassed?

And before he can stop himself Yamaguchi starts laughing, quietly at first but slowly his chuckles build up in volume because the situation’s just so incredible and soon the tall, blond boy suddenly looks at ease, and Yamaguchi whispers little sorrys through his happy tears.

Tsukishima looks nonplussed and even cracks a smirk that goes right to Yamaguchi’s heart, and tells him not to worry about it. Yamaguchi watches him from the corner of his eye, trying to be subtle, as he shucks on a shirt that was thrown carelessly on the nightstand next to his side of the bed and stretches his arms and shoulders before finally crawling out of bed, dark eyes glittering, alert as a hawk, and messy bed head already starting to flatten neatly on his forehead. ‘Wow, this guy really is cool,’ Yamaguchi thinks for what seems like the millionth time in the last half and hour, and when he looks at him imploringly, Yamaguchi gulps and jumps out of the bed as well, folding down the covers in an attempt to seem polite.

“So are you feeling better now?” the hot stranger asks him as he follows him out of the bedroom into the tiny apartment kitchen.

“Um..” Yamaguchi trails off, “I don’t really remember much? C-could you feel me in?” he asks shyly, pulled at the hem of his t-shirt and self consciously looking down rather than making eye contact.

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow. “Really? You don’t remember anything at all? Are you a freshman or something, was that your first time drinking alcohol?” he asks sarcastically.

Yamaguchi was hurt at first, but mostly he’s indignant. “Hey!” he protests, “I’m a second year, excuse you! And i don’t really party much...or go out late at night…” He’s aware of how lame he’s starting to sound now, “But all I remember was that I was walking back from chem lab, and there were these really rowdy guys throwing a party or something? For one of their friends birthdays, I think?”

He trails off for a moment, unsure if he’s really remembering everything correctly, “And basically the last thing I remember is that they were trying to get lots of hot girls to come to their party, and somehow I got dragged in? Anyway, there was this really tall guy there with lots of tattoos and incredible bed head, I think he somehow convinced me that this would be a good idea….”

Tsukishima sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose to calm his headache. Of course it was Kuroo, of course Kuroo would do something like this, namely inviting a guys who’s exactly Tsukishima’s type, tanned and lanky and absolutely adorable with his smattering of freckles and shy way of talking, and then forcing him to take care of said guy when he accidently has too much to drink and winds up dizzy and flushed (and extremely clingy as well, not that Tsukishima particularly minded the way he was all pressed up against him after he gave him a glass of water and some aspirin and tried to tuck him in so he wouldn’t have a terrible hangover the next day, especially the part when he responded by pulling Tsukishima down into the bed along with him, and Tsukishima went willingly because the party was starting to get to be too much for him, what with the extremely loud, bad techno music, Bokuto and Akashi starting to make out messily in the corner of the room, and Kuroo attempting to take body shots off of anybody with working genitals, and this boy was just so warm and pliant against him, just who was he to resist some quiet and this ruffled cutie?).

“A-are you okay? Sorry…” Yamaguchi trails off, and Tsukishima realizes it’s because he doesn’t know his name.

“Tsukishima Kei,” he answers accordingly, putting on a pot of coffee and rummaging through the fridge for some eggs and milk and pancake batter (if he’s lucky) with his back turned to Yamaguchi. “I’m an archeology graduate student, and the idiot with the tattoos is my room mate, unfortunately.”

Tsukishima starts re-telling him the night’s events. “Basically, he got you drunk and then you were kind of dizzy and well, wobbly, I guess, so I put you to sleep but then you were clinging to me, so I went to sleep, too.”

Yamaguchi gulps and makes himself comfortable on the threadbare couch that’s sitting in the middle of the living room, observing the mess of empty beer cans and questionable stains and starts freaking out a tiny bit on the inside because yeah, that sounds like a story he could believe.

“Oh! Wow, you’re so much older than me,” Yamaguchi exclaims thoughtlessly, and Tsukishima glares at him from the corner of his eye.

“U-um, not that that’s a bad thing or anything...sorry, Tsukki…” he blurts out to cover his mistake, and Tsukishima’s eyes widen at the unexpected nickname.

He’s about to ask him to repeat himself, he’s so incredulous, but then the boy pipes up on his own, “What I meant to say is, uh...my name is Yamaguchi Tadashi,” he says, looking up warmly. “Thanks you for taking care of me.” He smiles brightly and Tsukishima’s thrown off momentarily by his genuine gratefulness.

“It’s...no big deal…” he says awkwardly. Yamaguchi stands up and asks if he needs help with the pancakes and Tsukishima tells him he’s fine, and to help himself to some coffee.

Yamaguchi pours two cups and slides one over to Tsukishima, black, the way he likes it, and now Tsukishima is the one who is grateful. Yamaguchi pours a lot of milk into his to make it less bitter and Tsukishima chuckles because he really is such a kid.

“So…” Yamaguchi starts again.

“Yeah?” Tsukishima looks at him questioningly as he finishes stirring the batter and starts pouring the mix into the frying pan.

Yamaguchi blushes and Tsukishima is intrigued.

“We didn’t...like...do anything...r-right?” He stutters and Tsukishima has to stop himself from laughing, secretly excited about what he’s implying.

He doesn’t look at him for a moment and turns the stove down lower, and Yamaguchi starts to panic from his lack of response, but when he does look over, his eyes are predatory and before he knows what’s happening, Yamaguchi is pinned to a wall and Tsukishima is about two centimeters away from his face. He gulps, looks down at Tsukishima’s lips, and then licks his own unconsciously in a way that Tsukishima can only describe as unnaturally sexy.

“Why?” Tsukishima ask him lowly, leaning in and whispering in his ears, licking a tiny strip of his neck and making Yamaguchi shudder involuntarily. “Did you want to?”

(In the end, they didn’t. Yamaguchi sputtered indignantly, and, out of panic, accidentally hit him in the shoulder,hard, but not before turning an impressive shade of red, so impressive that Tsukishima have never even seen it before and doesn’t know what to call it, or what to call him, or what to call the both of them being here, together, standing in his apartment in the middle of the afternoon and laughing over coffee and burnt pancakes, but if he does know anything, is that he’s definitely hopes he’ll be seeing more of Yamaguchi. He makes a mental note to thank Kuroo later.)