cherrybirds
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- Haikyuu!! (7)
- Merlin (TV) (1)
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Summary
“Did you miss me?” Yamaguchi asks, and he’s deliberately preening under Kei’s gaze to emphasise the jokiness of his tone. He bats his eyelashes— once, twice— and Kei is briefly entranced before he’s anchored once more by the expectant look in those clear eyes.
Tsukishima can see each freckle, that small scar on Yamaguchi’s right jaw, each individual eyelash. He can even see the individual curves of soft shadow that each lash casts across the smooth expanse of Yamaguchi’s skin, and the sight is so startlingly warm amongst the cold that usually consumes his days, that he can’t help but bare some part of himself in return.
“I miss— missed— you. Every day.”
[ In which Tsukishima Akiteru doesn’t make it to adulthood and Tsukishima Kei spends the rest of his life reckoning with that fact, all the while falling in love with his childhood bestfriend (yet pretending he’s not.) ]
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It’s hard to want something that you just can’t have. Something out of reach. Something divinely superior. Bokuto’s just a samurai, after all. No matter how high ranking.
He’s duty bound to protect, not to love. But isn’t that the same thing, really?
[In which Akaashi is the son of a wealthy Daimyo and Bokuto is the samurai elected to serve as his personal guard. Naturally, they fall in love.]
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“So, I’m probably gonna see you a lot over this summer, huh? What’s your name?” Yamaguchi asks, tone light and airy as he leans forward to rest his chin against his palms, elbows placed on the countertop casually. He’s still smiling with that easy grin. It’s not even a customer service smile- it’s genuine. Tsukishima hesitates for a beat, purses his lips at the question before slinging the bag over his shoulder and looking back into Yamaguchi’s face.
“Tsukishima Kei.”
Or, how Tsukkishima Kei's summer program goes wildly off track thanks to some freckles and a catchy smile.
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Summary
It’s times like this, surrounded by crowds like these, he’s forced to ponder the logistics of soulmates, or more accurately, how he could possibly have one when he’s surrounded by people he is decidedly unimpressed with. He’s got the mark- the unmistakable tendrils of murky black that stains a blotch into his elbow. He’s got the mark, and there’s no scrubbing it off, so it stands to reason he must have one, no matter how little he cares for the selection at hand.
Of course, then comes Yamaguchi into his life.
( Each person's skin is marked with an 'ink spot'. When you're near your soulmate, the ink spots move across your skin towards each other. )
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Summary
It’s a simple tune, probably one Akaashi knows like the back of his hand. The notes lift with ease, sink back down into something more melancholy before returning smoothly to their previously chipper lilt. It’s really something mesmerising, to watch the way he plays so fluently, with the ease of water running down a mountain spring. The bow moves smoothly against the buzzing strings, Akaashi’s fingers running up and down the neck too fast for Bokuto to even really comprehend the movements.
He's fucked, it seems.
(In which Bokuto Koutarou walks into the wrong room at the right time, and suddenly everything is different.)