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The fan is whirring in the background, a static screech interrupting it every few seconds. The humid Argentinian air cools down, leaving a sheen of moisture clinging to Tooru's skin like a second layer.
Tooru's all too aware of it.
The distorted fabricated voice commenting on an old volleyball match breaches his ears like a steady gush of wind. His back, furnace against the sofa- a piece he doesn't know where his darling teammate got from. Tooru is pretty sure he stole it from his late Abuela's home.
Miya Atsumu is up to serve next, doing that very stupid pose, commanding the audience, turning all the cheers into steady silence. He throws the ball in the air, runs and then he's jumping, bending into that almost perfect arc- not as perfect as him, obviously. The ball shoots like a cannon, fully dangerous and all suave and the libero is up to receive the monstrosity aaand it's out.
It's fucking out.
Tooru is wheezing.
He cackles loudly and doubles over when he sees Miya's funny face, all the expressions crafting which are not apt for all the fansites he likes to goad about. He looks to his right, about to make a snarky comment about that blondie boy and oh-
It's Tobio.
It's always Tobio. Rendering him speechless with the most mundane acts. He is not even attempting to be sensual or anything. He never does. He's just sitting there, all dumb and gone, eating a bowl of sweetened yogurt which somehow managed to get on his shirt. What the fuck, actually. Looking at the tv, with the same boring blunt expression that makes Tooru want to pull his perfect hair out sometimes.
He is so so stupid. Tooru cannot take his eyes off.
The sunset filtering through the window across the room is casting a perfect golden hue across Tobio's features. His hair, all ruffled and wild, the midnight itself, falling down the nape of his neck. They've grown a bit. The perfect jaw crafted by the heavens above. The pointy sharp nose. The long pale neck, accentuating that lone freckle on his throat.
He wants to map it all with his lips.
He still has that boring facade on but that's not it. There is a crinkle around his eyes, barely noticeable, but Tooru's no stranger.
He's no stranger to all the silly competitions and tallies between Tobio and Shouyou. No stranger to the inside jokes in Ali Roma's and Adlers’ group chats. No stranger to all the late night Karasuno conversations. He's no stranger to all the Italy nights, dinner shenanigans and all the raspberry kisses and loud laughs.
He's no stranger to any expression which has ever painted that darling face.
There's a shadow of amusement on Tobio's face and Tooru cannot bring himself to look at the TV and see the subject for himself because there is nothing more fascinating than that crinkle on Tobio's brows.
He thinks he stops breathing for a moment, when Tobio turns to look at him. All messy and puzzled and everything Tooru has ever desired. Tobio is suddenly so close, his eyes widening a bit and then Tooru is realising that he has crossed the distance and he's practically on top of him but he cannot hold on now. So, he bends down and kisses him.
soft.
He faintly hears a gasp but Tobio is all soft, warm and pliant under him. He has his eyes shut now. He always does. Long lashes tickling Tooru's cheeks and calloused, warm, familiar hands now raking through his hair. Tooru surges forward and licks and now Tobio is gasping and moaning and melting under him and completely unraveling like an open book.
His vision goes hazy. His senses are numb and all he can think about is Tobio, Tobio, Tobio and he tries to think of a life where there is no extra toothbrush on his bathroom sink. No Italy clock on his phone. No recipe for croissants scribbled on paper and stuck on his fridge. No stupid ugly plushies on his bed. No taste of sweetened yogurt on his tongue.
He cannot.
So he bites down harder and holds his boy tighter and then Tobio is writhing below him but he cannot stop and he doesn't want to stop, taking everything Tobio is giving to him. He doesn't know how much time passes but there are hands pushing his chest and he's reminded that Tobio does need air to breathe. Unlike Tooru, who will positively die and drown in this moment.
He bites down on that plush bottom lip last time and moves away. Still close enough that he can still feel warm breaths on his lips and fluttering lashes against his skin and he's looking into a whole canvas of deep blue blue blue ocean and painted waves with little specks of light illuminating and turning it into something so mystical that Tooru is sinking and-
“What the hell!”
This shitty little pest-
“That was the set point, you idiot.”
Tooru is going to marry him one day.
He huffs and sits up and pinches the brat's thigh because he can, completely ignoring the yelp which came out a second later. He rolls his eyes for an extra measure.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, my dear.”
“It was not nothing, you literally jumped me. I wouldn't mind if it was any other time, but it was the set point and Shouyou was about to receive that like whwaaa and then there was this whole rally-”
Okay.
Fuck him.
“It's a century old match, Tobio-chan.” He screeches, interrupting this bumblehead. “Shouyou does not play for Jackals anymore. There are plenty of his new matches and hwaa digs you can watch.” He scrunches his nose distastefully. Is anyone even hearing this idiot? “Or just replay it back if you want to watch it so bad.”
“It's not the same if i replay it!” Tobio screams in outrage. “It's one of my favorite matches and you know that better than anybody. Why would you maul me like that so suddenly?”
Tooru finally looks at him and feels his heart stuttering. Tobio looks absolutely ravished. Utterly wrecked. His lips are all swollen and bruised and bitten because of Tooru's ministrations. Hair all mussed up, the oversized tshirt now falling from his right shoulder, those freckles on display.
He wants to eat him up.
Tooru is looking away now and burrowing his face in his hands and screaming because seriously, what's wrong with him? “I did not maul you, oh god Tobio! ” He cries out, voice coming out muffled.
“You literally bit my lips off.”
“Aghhh, you were sitting there,” Tooru is flailing his hands around, looking much more of a bigger idiot than the one sitting across from him. “your dumb face, I had to do something”
“You're not making shit sense right now.”
“Oh god, will you just drop it?” He cannot believe they're having this conversation right now. “You're my boyfriend for god's sake. I can jump you all I want. Or is that a problem now? ”
“You're such a loser”
Tooru flips him off.
Tobio huffs and gets up leaving Tooru all alone on the sofa. Tooru contemplates if Tobio is actually mad. But the little klutz is already stopping and turning back to look at him.
“If you still want to do something with my stupid face, you can come to the bedroom.”
He turns back and Tooru is pretty sure he is smiling because there is a very stupid grin lighting up Tooru's own face. He gets up and runs for his man and his heart is singing, his blood is thrumming and he wants nothing else but to keep chasing his idiot for the rest of his life.