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The scent of fresh linens wafted in through your bedroom window as the humming from outside stirred you to consciousness. The sun’s light trickled in through the curtains and in it were caught little particles of dust that danced all the way to the floor.
The warm presence that had been by your side the night before was gone and judging by the temperature of the sheets had been for a while. You stretched your arms to the edge of the bed, wondering if he had simply rolled off again. Alas, the jet-black-haired boy was nowhere to be seen.
You wondered if maybe the humming had something to do with your boyfriend of three years so you decided to investigate. Peeking your head through the door to see if he was in the kitchen mulling over a cup of black coffee, you found your boyfriend was nowhere in sight. The apartment you two shared wasn’t small by any means, but you could pretty much see the layout of the whole place from the bedroom door.
He didn’t have practice today, you thought. So where is he?
The apartment was spotless. Not that the apartment was usually dirty. But a certain someone had definitely been through it this morning. Even the blanket you had been cuddling under on the couch the night before had been folded and put away.
That’s when you noticed the door to your balcony was open a smidge. You wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the small gust of wind that blew in, making the windchimes you had precariously installed last week, jingle.
As you carefully trodded over to the slightly cracked open balcony door you heard that humming again. It was a familiar melody, but not one you had heard in recent years.
Sakusa Kiyoomi.
Simply thinking about his name made you feel as you had all those years ago when, after the incessant prodding of Hinata and Bokuto, you finally told the oblivious man that you had a mad-stupid crush on him since high school.
Or at least you think that’s what you said.
After you confessed, he kissed you and you didn’t remember much other than your heart feeling like it was going to explode and that Sakusa Kiyoomi, the biggest germaphobe on the planet, was kissing you.
You felt like the luckiest person on the planet.
(You opted out on remembering that he had scrubbed his face after announcing that next time he would be more prepared. You had only remembered his promise of a next time and seen the slight blush on his face.)
Now three years later you watched him meticulously hang up towels and sheets from the laundry to dry. Though he no longer had to sanitize his face every time he got within breathing distance of you he still liked to keep everything clean.
He wore an apron that you had gotten him as a gag gift one year. It was carefully tied around his waist and though his back was to you, you knew it said ‘You Just Got Served’ on the front along with crude pictures of volleyballs replacing the two ‘ O ’s. You had gotten it for him because of the sheer stupidity of the gift, sure that he would hate it. But Kiyoomi had seemed to take to it, and now wore it all the time.
He didn’t notice you approach him. Nor stand behind him and watch his deft fingers clip up one of your favourite of his hoodies to the clothesline.
(You frowned, now he’d have to wear it for at least a week for it to smell like him again).
No, it was only when you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled his warm body to your torso did he even notice you were there.
“Good morning sleepyhead,” he smiled softly, lifting his arm so he could get a clear view of you. “Sleep well?”
“Would’ve slept better if you were there when I woke up,” you complained, resting your head on his back and feeling the shifting of his muscles underneath the black wool sweater he wore.
God you were lucky
“Don’t pout,” he chastised. “It’s not fair.”
That only made you pout more, “sorry for wanting my fool of a boyfriend to be there when I wake up in the morning.”
“I had to get the laundry out, I didn’t want anything to get wrinkled.”
You sighed, “I know, it’s just, I feel like we haven’t gotten to spend any time together lately.” Kiyoomi opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off. “And with the Olympic season coming up we’re going to spend even less time with each other.”
Taking care to not lose contact with you for one moment Kiyoomi twisted so that he could look down at you. He ran a hand through your hair and started twirling it subconsciously,
“Is that what this is about?”
You couldn’t meet his eyes. Even after all these years, there was something intimidating about having Sakusa Kiyoomi’s full attention.
“Maybe.”
He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said, kissing a spot right below your ear.
“I don’t need you to apologize,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite reach.
“I know,” he said, placing another kiss underneath the first one. “But I miss you too.” Another kiss, this time on your cheek. “Today is for us baby, okay?”
You both tried to be accommodating to the other’s schedule but there were sometimes that you wanted to be a little selfish with him. You placed your hand on his cheek and drew him in, pressing a light kiss to his lips.
“Okay.”
He raised an eyebrow which caused the two moles on his forehead to lift too, he turned back to the laundry but when you began to release him from your grip he only lowered his hands to yours and said, “stay.”
You watch him for a moment, leaning against his bicep to watch him hang up the last towel in the bin. Courtesy of the last Black Jackals bonding trip to Okinawa that Kiyoomi had just gotten back from the day before.
They were only supposed to be gone for a week but ended up staying for two and though Kiyoomi had brought you back more than enough beniimo tarts among other snacks to compensate for his absence, as you pulled him in close to you, you realized truly just how much you’d missed him and didn’t want him to leave again.
“Did you get this in Okinawa?” you asked, dragging yourself out of your bitter thoughts and pulling at the sleeve of his sweater.
“Mmhmm,” he hummed. “Should I be prepared for you to steal it?”
You grinned into his back, “maybe.”
“Damn, I really liked this sweater.”
“I need it for when I miss you,” you informed him, taking in the scent that already began to linger on this sweater. “It smells like you. You know this.”
“I know,” He turned to you once again, never letting go of you and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. And leant into you again, “but I like when you say it.”
“Omi, I miss you. And I need your dumb sweater so I don’t die of lonliness when you’re gone”
“Then tell me, why would you need this,” he asked, removing said sweater to reveal constellations of black moles on milky skin. “When you have the real thing right here.”
You kissed one of the moles on his collarbone and looked up at him again, grinning. “Why indeed.”
And with that he hoisted you over his shoulder, carrying you back inside, through the kitchen, to the only room, quite possibly in the entire apartment, that Kiyoomi’s cleaning antics had gotten to yet that morning.
“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” you chuckled. “You put me down this instant.”
“Alright,” he said. So he did.
And he closed the bedroom door.
Yeah.
The luckiest person on the planet sounds about right,