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The hotel where the Schweiden Adlers team was staying was unusually quiet. Ushijima Wakatoshi was reclining on the couch, intently staring at the screen where an important match was being replayed. His fingers habitually touched the remote control, but his attention was completely focused on the game... at least, that was the case until recently.
"Can I?" Kageyama Tobio's familiar voice was heard before Kageyama settled down next to him, lying comfortably sideways and throwing his hip directly over Ushijima's torso.
The movement was casual, almost automatic. It was as if Tobio did this all the time, and perhaps he was really getting used to such bodily comfort next to Ushijima. The warmth of his body could be felt all too clearly. A soft thigh, relaxed against Wakatoshi's torso, and the weight of Tobio, comfortably ensconced, as if at home.
Ushijima didn't move a millimeter.
He was watching the match. Straight. Carefully. I tried to follow the players' movements, analyze tactics, and switch. But every second with Tobio's hip on him turned his concentration into a myth.
"Are you uncomfortable?" Tobio suddenly asked, looking up from the bottom without taking his foot off.
—No,— Ushijima replied shortly. The voice is steady. Almost.
He wasn't sure how much his face betrayed his inner struggle. The struggle between discipline and the desire to just close your eyes and put your hand on that hip, squeeze a little, hold a little. To make sure that Tobio is really here.
—Okay," Tobio said with a note of satisfaction, pressing himself a little closer, as if on purpose.
Ushijima took a deep breath. The match was good, yes. But now he will have to watch the match on repeat, because his attention is focused on the warm breath around him.