aroceu's ficthe other on my heart
Suga is cleaning out their wardrobe when he finds the collar.
Tsukishima thinks about Yamaguchi a lot.
Eduardo imagines:
If Kunimi thinks about it, his chest aches. If Kunimi thinks about it, it’s like being him. Being Kageyama. Being the center of the court, poised and loud, the audiences’ eyes on the players and the players’ eyes on him. Kageyama says things with force, like he expects the spikers to trust him, because they […]
Every so often the sex reminds him it’s just sex, and Kuroo never knows what to make of it, just that he loves the feeling of people, of warmth, of tender kisses and fingers against his own, doesn’t really care if the smiles he catches are fake. His are always real.
Sousuke watches from the side, as Nanase sticks the cigarette between his lips, sucks. Sousuke counts the seconds that tick by.
“The risk I took was calculated – but man, am I bad at math.”
A collaboration with renaissance
Oikawa asks him if he still jogs in the mornings, still brushes his teeth in the shower, still wears the grey joggers that he and Oikawa had bought matching together.