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It’s three months into his college experience, and Moniwa Kaname has a problem. It’s not academics or social or anything like that; there are blogs, books, and advice-giving resources for that kind of stuff. No, this is more on the lines of a bizarre sequence of events he can’t even begin to make sense of.
He would probably have to go back to the beginning.
.·:*¨¨* =☆= *¨¨*:·.
Surprise doesn’t begin to cover Moniwa’s reaction when his new college roommate strolls into the dorm room. The guy has always been tall, but he looms extra large from Moniwa’s perch on the edge of his bed.
“Uh, hey,” Moniwa squeaks out, wondering how he is even supposed to address someone like Ushijima Wakatoshi. They might have both been captains of Miyagi’s more respectable high school volleyball clubs, but he isn’t sure he would classify them as equals.
Ushijima nods and extends a hand. “Ushijima Wakatoshi.”
Moniwa reciprocates the gesture. “Moniwa Kaname.” He shoots to his feet and gestures toward both of the beds in the room. “Did you have a preference? If you want this one, I can move.”
“That’s not necessary.” Ushijima’s bag drops next to the bunk on the other side of the room, and without further ado, he moves around unpacking his things. Moniwa just stares, wondering what life will be like sleeping next to the best volleyball player in the prefecture.
Life with Ushijima actually proceeds suspiciously well. He is neat and quiet, unbothered by Moniwa’s enjoyment of late night marathons of crappy horror movies, and always willing to split the cost of takeout on long study sessions — surprisingly fruitful session, as Moniwa learns that Ushijima is a more than respectable student.
The trouble starts when Ushijima stops shaving. It’s a subtle change at first, a little bit of stubble after a long week of late nights followed by early mornings drowned in push-ups and jogs around campus. After a month, Moniwa decides to ask. “Are you keeping the beard?”
“Hmm?” Ushijima stops mid-pushup and glances over his shoulder at Moniwa, who is drumming his pencil against his sociology textbook. “Maybe. It seems a waste of time to shave it off when it just keeps growing back. It doesn’t bother me.”
Moniwa’s eyes fall to the dark growth softening Ushijima’s usually sharp jaw and swallows hard. “It’s, uh . . . it looks good on you. For whatever that’s worth.”
Pushing off the floor, Ushijima towels the thin sheen of sweat from his brow. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He shoots Moniwa a hint of a smile and drags his fingers down his lightly furred cheek. With a harrumph, he added, “Yesterday, a freshman thought I was a teacher.”
The image of a bug-eyed nerd staring at Ushijima, an avatar of manhood, coaxes a guffaw from Moniwa. “You’re scary enough clean-shaven. Probably gave the kid a heart attack.”
Ushijima’s brow knits, and he bites his lip. “I’m scary looking?”
Moniwa can’t fathom how to react to Ushijima’s dismay, jaw drooping open, but it snaps shut when Ushijima chuckles. “You should see your face.”
Red rushes to Moniwa’s cheeks and he hides his face with his hands. “I can’t believe I said that. It didn’t come out right at all.”
“I’m just surprised you were paying attention.” Ushijima tugs off his shirt and heads toward their shared bathroom. “I’ll see how it goes.”
When the door clicks shut behind Ushijima, Moniwa drops back spread-eagle on his bed and groans. “Oh, man. I’m in trouble.”
Oh, he is so beyond wrong. The trouble has just begun.
At the beginning of the semester, their respective paths did not cross often. With Moniwa firmly in the journalism trenches and Ushijima in sports therapy, their majors don’t cross often. Yet as the days wear on, they manage to cross paths more and more, and Moniwa falls into the rhythm. Nights usually spent in the bowels of the library slowly migrate to nights in with takeout and chin-high stacks of textbooks.
And both of them are there, trading cartons of curry and tempura over flashcards and game video. Moniwa is surprised when Ushijima listens intently to his observations on the team’s blocking and spiking strategies.
“I didn’t know you thought all that much about my opinion,” Moniwa admits while scribbling game notes into a notebook he has started carrying for this exact purpose. “I don’t think your team has ever missed a chance to kick the crap out of mine.”
Ushijima frowns, fingers idly stroking his ever-thickening beard growth. “Why would you say that?”
Shrugging, Moniwa says, “You know. You’re you and I’m me. We’re not exactly cut from the same cloth.”
“I don’t know what that means.” Ushijima plucks the pencil from Moniwa’s fidgeting hands. “You’re one of the smartest people I know. I thought you understood that.”
“I —” Moniwa’s cheeks burn at the compliment. “Thank you. That means a lot.” He ducks his chin and murmurs, “The beard looks good. I’m glad you kept it.”
A smile threatening, Ushijima turns back to his laptop and to the match on the screen. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Belly wringing itself into a thousand knots, Moniwa does the same, and more than once, he finds his gaze drifting to the side and taking in the view. He means what he said. The beard really is working for Ushijima, not to mention the number it’s doing on Moniwa’s attention span. And he isn’t even mad about it.
If Ushijima is aware of Moniwa’s lingering gaze, he makes no mention of it, leaving Moniwa to percolate in the knowledge that he is most certainly developing A Thing for his roommate.
Back to the present. Moniwa. Trouble. In. So much.
This all comes to a head one day after a marathon day at the gym for Ushijima while Moniwa crams for a looming midterm. Ushijima returns to the dorm looking more tired than Moniwa has ever seen him, even after study sessions stretching well into the night.
“What did you do, bench press a planet?” Moniwa closes his book and hovers over Ushijima as he slumps onto his bed. “You usually don’t work yourself this hard.”
Ushijima’s jaw clenches, and he averts his eyes. “I had something on my mind, and I was trying to forget about it.”
Moniwa sits next to him and bumps their shoulders together. “It’s weird seeing you all moody. Want to talk about it?”
Head reeling back, Ushijima chortles. “Yes and no.” Taking a deep breath, he says, “You know, I’ve been waiting for this day, and now that it’s here, I’m not sure where to start.”
The words loaded with something Moniwa can’t quite define, he suggests, “Maybe take a shower? I don’t know about you, but I do most of my best thinking in the shower.”
Some of the tension melts out of Ushijima and he nods. “I think I will. Thank you.”
Moniwa almost chokes when Ushijima sheds his sweats until he’s stripped to his underwear, with nothing else but a towel slung over his shoulder to obscure the imagination. And boy, is Moniwa’s imagination bubbling. His eyes are glued to the play of dense muscle underneath silken skin as Ushijima pads barefoot toward the bathroom.
When the door clicks shut behind Ushijima, Moniwa grinds the heels of his hands into his eye sockets until black spots cloud his vision. “I am so screwed,” he mutters to himself.
He stays like that until Ushijima exits the bathroom, towel slung low around the sharp lines of his hips. Moniwa stares — he can’t stop himself — and his jaw quivers as Ushijima strides purposefully over toward him. Moniwa’s throat dries and sticks when the only thing he can see is the outline of Ushijima’s junk through the towel.
Arms crossed, Ushijima blurts, “I’d drop the towel if it would get you to finally make a move, but I’d really rather not.”
“What?” Moniwa finally looks up at Ushijima, whose fingers idly drum against his forearm with an almost impatient expression on his face. “You mean you want me to —”
Ushijima quirks a brow. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
Moniwa pushes to his feet, knees wobbling beneath him, and he almost can’t breathe when he notices that Ushijima’s mouth is level with his eyes. Now it’s the only thing he can think about — that, and the way they list toward each other until Ushijima’s bare chest presses against Moniwa’s clothed one.
Fingers lace their way through Moniwa’s curly hair, and his entire scalp tingles in response. Ushijima’s brown eyes are heavy-lidded and looking at nothing but him, and Moniwa barely suppresses a shiver.
This is happening. This is really happening. Ushijima stands before him with his handsome face and his handsome beard and beautiful body corded with hard, lean muscle, waiting for Moniwa to make something of this lingering attraction.
It dawns on him now why Ushijima had spent so much energy at the gym earlier. If he can understand anything, it’s certainly frustration. Frustration at him. Frustration that can be resolved in a matter of centimeters.
Waiting and pining feels a whole lot stupider when he thinks about it.
Moniwa sidesteps, ignoring Ushijima’s gasp of surprise, only to wrench out a gasp of a different sort when he pushes Ushijima to his seat. When Ushijima peers up at him, his eyes are dark with something Moniwa can only classify as hunger and it makes his heart pound.
His entire body wound up and nervous, Moniwa pushes his tension away and climbs into Ushijima’s lap for a wet and urgent kiss. Their lips dance together while Ushijima’s arms slide around his waist. It isn’t until Moniwa is nearly dizzy from the lack of air that he wrenches away and cups Ushijima’s pleasantly furred cheeks in his palms. “I really do like the beard.”
Ushijima gives him a crooked smile. “That’s why I kept it. I admire your willpower. With as much as you stare at me, I’m surprised it’s taken this long for something to come of it.”
“You mean you —” Moniwa’s face colors until he’s sure even his neck is beet red. “That’s kind of embarrassing. I thought I was being discreet.”
Lips pursed, Ushijima hums. “I suppose it would have been if I weren’t looking at you just as much.” He snares Moniwa’s lips for another breath-stealing kiss. “At least that’s over with.”
“Definitely.”
With that, they melt into each other for a little while more, coaxed away only by the looming specter of homework for both of them. It’s all right, though, Moniwa thinks. After all, now that they’ve started on the correct path, they have all the time in the world to finish the race.