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On the last day of their last interschool training camp, Kei wakes up to the sound of someone rummaging through their backpack and the sticky humid heat of summer clinging onto his damp skin. Why don’t we have air conditioning, is Kei’s first thought. Suddenly, he remembers distinctly why he dislikes training camp sleepovers with a viciousness. He kicks the covers off with an irritable grunt.
The rummaging noise stops.
“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi whispers in the dim light of the morning. Kei’s sleep-heavy eyes slide to his boyfriend’s blurry face in acknowledgement. It makes Yamaguchi perk up—the summer sun unfurling in the stretch of his smile, bright eyes shining. “Good morning.”
Kei squints. Frowns. “No.”
Yamaguchi’s answering laughter is soft. Warm.
It’s warm enough outside already, Yamaguchi, Kei wants to protest. Stop being cute.
“What time is it?” Kei dares to ask.
Yamaguchi glances at his phone. “2:34 a.m.”
Kei’s grimace digs a little deeper.
“What’s wrong?” Yamaguchi asks because Yamaguchi is sweet, even when Kei is not. Yamaguchi is a lot of things that Kei is not. Yamaguchi is everything good that Kei is still not sure he deserves, and more.
Kei doesn’t tell Yamaguchi any of his thoughts in this too warm, too early morning.
He says instead, “It’s hot.”
And I hate it, Kei doesn’t say. He doesn’t have to.
Yamaguchi makes a sympathetic noise. He scoots quietly to sit next to where Kei is and wipes Kei’s bangs away from his sweaty forehead. His hand is dry and cool and Kei thinks it’s unfair that Yamaguchi can make him feel better by just this. A touch to his forehead, a brush of his fingers through Kei’s hair.
Kei takes a deep breath. Sighs.
Some of his earlier irritation leaves him as Yamaguchi pets his hair some more.
“Come here,” Kei says after a while, tugging gently at his best friend’s shirt. He determinedly ignores the jump of Yamaguchi’s eyebrows. Heat prickles at his face and this time, it has nothing to do with the summer humidity. “Yamaguchi.”
“Okay.”
They’re quiet as Yamaguchi maneuvers his body into the tiny space on the futon that Kei could give him. It’s still way too warm to be comfortable, warmer now that their bodies are barely inches away from each other. But Yamaguchi’s fingers reach up to curl themselves around the strands of Kei’s hair and Kei’s hand finds its comfort in line of Yamaguchi’s hip, and everything feels…better.
Feels right, somehow.
“Like this,” Tsukki murmurs. Sleepiness begins to cling heavily onto his eyelids once more. “Stay like this.”
“Just like this?” Yamaguchi asks.
“Just like this.”
“Okay.”
“Mrm.”
Yamaguchi laughs gently again.
It’s a nice sound to hear, even though Kei is not entirely sure what Yamaguchi is laughing at. He thinks he’d like to know—wants to find out what he’s doing correctly, so that he can get Yamaguchi to do it every time.
“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi begins, hushed. Even with his eyes pulling close, Kei can hear the smile in his boyfriend’s tone. “Tsukkiii.”
“What?”
“I like you at 2:34 a.m.,” Yamaguchi confesses almost shyly, except there’s an impish undertone to his voice that Kei can pick out all too well.
Kei’s mouth twitches in a quick smile. “Just at 2:34 a.m.?”
“I mean, I like you in any time of the day, Tsukki—”
“Good.”
“—but I like you the best right now.”
“Mm. Why’s that?”
“Because you’re being very cute right now.”
Kei forces his tired eyes to open, just so he can glare sullenly at Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi beams right back.
“It’s true,” his boyfriend insists as Kei snorts. “And you let me do things you don’t normally let me do in other times.”
Kei hums, closing his heavy eyes. “Like what?”
Yamaguchi shrugs. “Like pet your hair.”
“You’ve never tried petting my hair in other times.”
“If I tried, would you let me?”
“Yes.”
“If I tried holding your hand, would you let me?”
“…Mm. Yes.”
“If I tried hugging you, would you—"
“Yamaguchi,” Kei says in a yawn, “I would let you do most things.”
There’s a pause. And then,
“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi whines quietly, half-teasing, half-embarrassed. Kei would smirk if he wasn’t too exhausted for it. “That’s so sweet. See. You’re so sweet at 2:34 a.m.”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Let me sleep.”
“But Tsukki,” Yamaguchi teases. “Tsukkiii.”
Kei pinches his hip half-heartedly in retaliation.
“Tsu-kki, Tsu-kki, Tsu-kki,” Yamaguchi chants in playful whispers, and Kei lets him. Lets Yamaguchi’s hand play with his hair and Yamaguchi’s voice play with the syllables of his name and lets Yamaguchi’s gentle presence play in the steady drum of his heartbeat.
Kei will let Yamaguchi do a lot of things, he realizes. Maybe that’s not a bad thing.
He falls back asleep just as Yamaguchi leans in to press a kiss on his temple.
///
Later, when Kei wakes up properly, hot and sweaty in the direct heat of the morning sun, he sees Yamaguchi already up and about, firmly asking the still bleary-eyed 2nd and 1st years to get up and get dressed for breakfast. Kei could see him gearing up for a Motivational Captain Speech.
It’s a stark contrast to the Yamaguchi that had been teasingly whining to him earlier.
“Morning, Tsukishima!” Hinata greets extra loudly by the side as he fixes up his futon. He grins in the face of Kei’s glare, and then turns to their setter. “Kageyama! Good morning.”
“Morning,” Kageyama echoes and leans down. Hinata places a noisy peck on his cheek.
“Gross,” Kei deadpans, smirking when Hinata sticks his tongue out childishly at him.
Kageyama scoffs. “At least we didn’t share a futon at 2 in the goddamn morning.”
By the door, Yamaguchi chokes on his Captain Speech.
Hinata cackles.
Kei violently lobs his pillow at them.