Work Text:
The pencil ran back and forth on the paper, light soft traces mixed with sharp dark ones. Tsukishima’s hobby was surely his favorite. He scribbled up and down, side to side, with his mind empty. Soon enough an image appeared through the lines. His favorite image to draw.
He took his time as he finished his new drawing, adding every detail, pouring his soul into it just like every other drawing. After he was done, he put the drawing inside his folder, carefully not to crumple it. He glanced at the clock on his desk. His break was over. He grabbed his pen, opened the tab on his computer and went back drawing.
As a digital artist, Tsukishima knew he shouldn’t draw during his breaks, he was supposed to take a break, and not draw even more. However, day after day, when his break arrived, he felt this itch and started drawing again. And every day he drew the same thing. Or rather, the same person.
Later that day, back at his apartment, Tsukishima was cooking dinner when the front door opened.
“I’m home!” Yamaguchi’s voice echoed through the small apartment, followed by footsteps. “Tsukki?”
“In here.” Tsukishima cried out. He turned the oven off and knelt to get the pan out. He set it on the counter and waited for Yamaguchi.
When he entered the kitchen, he had a bright smile on his lips despite the tiredness of his eyes. “Tsukki!” He threw himself in Tsukishima’s arms, pushing the boy back until his hips hit the sink.
“Hey, babe,” Tsukishima brought his arms up to hold Yamaguchi. He rested his head on top of Yamaguchi’s, their height difference was something he’d forever cherished in them. “Tough day at work?”
Yamaguchi groaned under Tsukishima’s arms. “Unfortunately, yes. This old lady came in and threw a tantrum on one of our employees and, as the manager, I had to politely ask her to leave, which she didn't, leaving me no other option but to kick her out.”
Tsukishima’s hand ran up and down Yamaguchi’s back, slowly but increasingly soothing him. “You work too hard. When are you getting that promotion you mentioned?”
He felt Yamaguchi smile into his neck. “Soon.”
“Good. I miss the old Tadashi.”
“What do you mean?” Yamaguchi pulled back, looking Tsukishima in the eye.
“Here.” Tsukishima left the kitchen, returning seconds later with a black folder in hands. He opened the folder and pulled two sheets of paper out. He turned the first one to Yamaguchi. “This was you at the start of the year when you took over the manager position.” The drawing was beautiful, Yamaguchi was happy, very happy if the crinkle of his eyes and nose were anything to go by. He looked ethereal, like an angel from above. Tsukishima’s drawings had that power.
“Now, this is you.” Tsukishima turned the other paper around. It was the drawing he had made earlier that day, back on his break. Yamaguchi was the same, anyone could tell, but he looked different. The eyes that were once sharp and shiny were now tired, distant.
Yamaguchi took both papers from Tsukishima’s hands, quietly analyzing them before he said, “Your drawings are getting better with every passing day, Tsukki.”
Tsukishima sighed, tenderly rolling his eyes. “That's not the point, Tadashi. You're working your ass off! You should take some rest.”
“I know,” Yamaguchi whined. “It's not like I don't want to, but you know I can't!”
“Says who?”
“Says my boss, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture Tsukishima loved. He always looked cute when he did that.
“Fuck your boss. Let's call in sick. We'll go to the beach and we'll take a well-deserved rest.”
“Wh– No! We can't do that, and you know it! My promotion is coming soon, I don't need my boss thinking less of me right now, and you said it yourself that Bokuto-san will kill you if you don't hand in that project on Monday.”
“And I will. I've got the whole weekend until Monday and your boss would be fucking stupid if she doesn't give you the promotion because you called in sick. People get sick all the time, you could sue her.” Tsukki stated. “Let's go to the beach, Tadashii.”
“I– That's it, you're insane.” Yamaguchi threw his hands in the air in surrender. “I'm calling the emergency.” He turned on his heels to leave but Tsukishima was faster. He encircled Yamaguchi in his arms, Yamaguchi’s body going limp as he held him in place.
“Please, babe.” He kissed the nape of Yamaguchi’s neck, a spot he knew that sent shivers up the boy's spine. “Just tomorrow.”
Yamaguchi relaxed under his touch, letting his head fall, subconsciously giving Tsukishima more access.
“Fine.”
***
Yamaguchi’s feet were buried in the sand, his hair swung with the wind, and a smile tugged at his lips. He turned to look at Tsukishima, who sat on the towel by his side but a little bit behind him. He held a sketchbook in a hand and a pencil in the other.
“Oh, come on, Tsukki! I thought you said we were supposed to rest!” Yamaguchi complained.
“I am resting. This is my hobby.” Tsukishima said simply, pencil moving nonstop.
Yamaguchi shook his head. “You can't call your job a hobby, Tsukki.”
Tsukishima grinned despite himself. “This isn't work.” He handed the sketchbook to Yamaguchi, whose face was dominated by a growing smile. It was yet another drawing of Yamaguchi.
“You are my hobby.”