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Kyoutani feels warm watching the party scene unfold in front of him like an unfurling sheet. The lights are dim and LEDs flash somewhere in the background behind all the movement of bodies. He takes a sip from his drink and catches sight of Iwaizumi talking with someone. The blond looks away, back to the TV, and lets himself slide into feeling a bit more buzzed. He finishes his drink and is handed a new one by a familiar hand.
“You look pleased.” Iwaizumi says, dropping himself next to Kyoutani.
“Mmm. I am.”
“We can leave soon.”
“What time is it?” Kyoutani sips from his cup.
“Almost three.”
“Yeah. We should go soon.”
The blond stands although he misses the fond smile Iwaizumi gives him.
The sound of movement is reminiscent of Kyoutani’s childhood. His mother waking up early to make breakfast before heading off to work, the clinking of porcelain and the not-so-quiet clanking of pots on the stove. The blond finally moves to sit up and is blinded by the sun.
“What time is it?” Kyoutani calls out, covering his eyes from the light.
“Eleven.”
Kyoutani stands and stretches a bit before walking out into the main room. It hits him like a truck. The feeling of domesticity washes over in waves as he notices every detail. The way the sun cuts through the room, the sizzling pans, the way Iwaizumi stands at the stove, the sound of him humming. It’s shocking and makes Kyoutani’s fingers tingle at the perfect picture he's almost afraid to ruin.
He manages to snap himself out of his stupor and walks over to the fridge. He allows himself one glance at the other and curses internally. Iwaizumi is still in his sleep shirt and barefoot, but what steals the blond’s breath is the way Iwaizumi’s chest presses against the shirt material. The fabric isn’t so tight to the point where it’s straining, but it’s filled out. He quickly grabs his protein drink and closes the fridge. Kyoutani sits on a barstool in front of the counter and sips his drink. Watching Iwaizumi’s back flex as he cooks adds another layer of ‘should I, as a friend, be doing this?’.
“How’re you feeling today?”
“Good.”
“Still masculine?”
“Yep.”
Iwaizumi has a smile on his face as he passes the blond a bowl and a pair of chopsticks. Their fingers brush and Iwaizumi doesn’t move his hand away immediately. The two hold eye contact for a moment before returning to what they were doing, feeling the air become charged.
“I’ll be studying for most of today, but I’ll be free tonight.”
“Ok. Same here.”
The two part after breakfast and Kyoutani, once again, misses the fond smile from Iwaizumi.
Kyoutani feels warm again. He’s under a blanket shared with Iwaizumi and has fresh tea in his hand. He lets himself believe that it’s just the tea making him feel warm. The movie choice was Iwaizumi’s, the 2014 remake of Godzilla, one of Iwaizumi's favorites. The sound design is great and the framing of a lot of the scenes is good, so Kyoutani has no complaints. Although, the blond hardly looks at the screen, instead of watching Iwaizumi’s face. The blue flash of Godzilla’s lightning breath lights up the room and Iwaizumi’s excited expression. The domesticity of the situation once again seeps into Kyoutani’s skin and it makes him tingle. The blond’s fingertips ache to grab at Iwaizumi’s arm, wanting to feel the corded muscle beneath his fingers, feel the push and pull of Iwaizumi’s chest below him.
When Kyoutani decides to watch the movie Iwaizumi looks over and subtly shifts, letting his hand brush against the other’s thigh. The two share a glance and the blond locks his and Iwaizumi’s index fingers together.
It’s Sunday as Iwaizumi and Kyoutani jog around their campus. They’ve been stopped twice by two separate girls who remembered Iwaizumi from Friday’s party and wanted to grab his number. He politely declines and tells both of them that he’s not interested in that kind of relationship. The girls whine and walk away, in the disappointed way you’d see in some romance movie. Hearing Iwaizumi tell those girls no, Kyoutani feels a bit smug.
The air is tense with a feeling of wanting, simmering under each of their skins. The heat curls onto itself like a resting boa and Kyoutani feels eyes burning on his back, but refuses to turn around. She knows that Iwaizumi is watching her, watching what she’ll do in the moment of forgetfulness. The blonde almost forgot their tender moment last night, having it confused with every other hope for domesticity and closeness she’s had. But now, the wanting isn’t just Kyoutani’s, it’s Iwaizumi’s too. The white-hot spark of familiarity overlapping with the sudden change of their dynamic.
“Sorry.” Iwaizumi is quiet.
“It’s ok, really.” It’s really not, but Kyoutani just wants this moment to last a bit longer. “But while you’re already in here, would you mind zipping up my dress?”
“Uh, sure.” Iwaizumi walks further into the blonde’s room and gently fingers the black zipper, slowly pulling it up against its own teeth.
Kyoutani turns around and Iwaizumi steps back a bit, “Do I look alright? It’s a new dress.”
Green eyes move across the blonde’s skin and it feels like Iwaizumi is leaving trails of fire and ice. It’s silent as Iwaizumi readies his comment. He smiles.
“It looks great.”
Night falls quietly, only notifying Kyoutani when her stomach rumbles. She stands and stretches before walking out into the kitchen. The room is quiet as the blonde sips from her tea, sitting on the couch and pulls out her phone. The flow of the dress against Kyoutani’s legs is nice and she rubs the material slightly.
“Kyou?”
Iwaizumi is standing in the doorway, looking surprised. He’s got his backpack hanging off of one shoulder and one earbud in. The moment is forgetful, except for the look of warmth that seems to take over Iwaizumi’s face. He drops his backpack by the front door and walks over to Kyoutani.
“Yeah?”
Iwaizumi flushes and holds a hand out, palm up. “Can we dance?”
“Sure?”
Confused, the blonde takes Iwaizumi’s hand. She’s pulled up onto her feet and against Iwaizumi’s chest, hand still in his. There’s a moment of hesitation before Kyoutani decides to get into the right position. She brings one hand to Iwaizumi’s shoulder and Iwaizumi places a hand at Kyoutani’s waist, keeping her other hand in his.
They begin and quickly fall into a rhythm, stepping forward and back, leaning in and out of each other’s space. Despite the lack of music their steps are even and sure, Iwaizumi is good at leading and Kyoutani is ok with being led.
“I wanted to tell you something.”
The blond glances up slightly, “What is it?”
“I really like you. And I have for a while now.”
Kyoutani keeps dancing but feels her heart race, the tempo picking up like an orchestra reaching its crescendo. She meets Iwaizumi’s gaze and feels a blush creep up to her ears.
“Will you please go out on a date with me?”
The blonde smiles, feeling tears prickle. “You’re ok with the fact that I won’t always be your boyfriend or girlfriend?”
“Of course. It’s part of you, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
“Then yes, I will.”
Kyoutani pulls Iwaizumi’s head to her's, and they press their lips together. And in the background, the moon shines with the light of life, and the world moves, carrying Kyoutani and Iwaizumi to the blonde’s room to change into one of her evening dresses for a late-night date.