Work Text:
1.
“Belly rubs,” Yahaba snorts, smiling fondly down at Kyoutani. “A dog indeed. Want me to give you a treat and call you ‘good boy’ as well?”
“Shut up. You know you like doing it.” Kyoutani has his eyes closed and head pillowed on his boyfriend's lap, tucked away in the privacy of said boyfriend's room.
Yahaba threads his fingers through Kyoutani's short hair, lightly scratching at the scalp and smiles when the other hums in delight.
“We came to my house to study you know,” The taller boy chides softly. “You asked me to tutor you.”
“Changed my mind. Don’t feel like studying anymore.”
“It’s my responsibility to help you with your grades. What if you get kicked out of the club?” He whines, in mock desperation, “How will I ever tell the kids their dad failed them because he was a dumbass in Math?”
Kyoutani scoffs. “Kids my ass. And I’m not a dumbass, I just don’t like Math.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.” Kyoutani hisses and Yahaba smirks.
“You are too. You can’t deny it. Your brain is made up of bricks, dogs, volleyball— Oh, and Kara age-kun!”
“Yahaba—”
“You’re literally a dork,” Yahaba croons and holds a fist out to Kyoutani like an imaginary microphone. “Do tell me what subjects you passed again? What’s that~? Physical Education?”
“Yahaba I swear to God—” Kyoutani growls and swats the offending hand away. Yahaba laughs, moving to caress the side of Kyoutani’s face.
“I love you,” He whispers. “Even if you’re a dumbass in Math.”
Kyoutani stiffens and feels his throat run dry. He knows Yahaba felt the tension in his shoulders cause he smiles sheepishly. Probably regretting what he said. Shit. That's not it. He has to say something, he needs to tell Yahaba that he also—
“You’re so embarrassing.” He grunts out and fuck. That’s not what he intended to say. He panics and tries again but no words come out of his mouth. He shuts his eyes tight and clenches his hands into fists.
He's pretty sure he fucked up big time. When he looks at Yahaba, he's expecting a nasty scowl that demands a break-up. But instead Yahaba is grinning in that way that makes his eyes crinkle and son of a bitch— there’s the dimple. Yahaba’s damn dimple. Mother of God. That shit should be illegal. Kyoutani feels like he's going through cardiac arrest.
“No I’m not.” The taller puffs out his chest like a proud peacock. He hopes that Yahaba didn't notice that he was leering. “I’m a delight.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“You mean your pain in the ass.” Yahaba waggles his eyebrows obnoxiously and Kyoutani groans.
Next time then, he promises.
2.
Kyoutani usually spend his birthdays alone with his dog. He was used to it. It’s fine. It’s not like he cares if his teammates don’t know about his birthday, so he walked into the gym with little to no expectations at all. But he was horribly wrong though. Cause as soon as he entered the door he was greeted with sudden shrieks of ‘Happy Birthday’ and blasting confetti. He almost socked Watari one out of shock, since he was the one who popped the confetti.
“The fuck—?” He watched dumbly as Yahaba sauntered over to them, carrying a double-layered cake. Kyoutani barely heard the team’s shitty rendition of the birthday song, focusing instead on his lover and how his gorgeous eyes are doing bad things to his health.
“Happy birthday,” Yahaba whispers and that woke Kyoutani from his stupor. Apparently the team finished singing, and he realized was supposed to move. He awkwardly scratched his neck, mumbled a silent ‘thanks’ and blew the candles out. Everyone cheered and popped even more confetti.
The party lasted the entire night. Even their former seniors attended and the whole team delivered their speeches for the birthday boy. Kyoutani will admit he was fairly touched with all their sappy words (except Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Oikawa’s, Kyoutani wanted to punch them). Kyoutani realized that only Yahaba didn’t have a message prepared, and it was until later, when they’re both tucked away in the privacy of Kyoutani’s room did he understand why.
“Here,” Yahaba hands him a box with wrapping paper in the shade Seijoh’s colours. “A gift. From me.”
Kyoutani took it and started tearing away at the paper like some kid opening their Christmas present. It was Yahaba’s first gift to him after all. After clearing away the wrapping, he opened the box gingerly and the contents stunned him to silence.
Inside was a framed picture; a candid shot of both him and Yahaba. They were hugging each other after their first victory without the seniors. It was a memorable match, because Yahaba and Kyoutani were perfectly in sync that day, and the way the new team coordinated with each other made the senpais proud.
Kyoutani felt his eyes stinging. Maybe just a little.
“…Well?” Yahaba asks, sheepish and embarrassed, that Kyoutani can’t help but pull him into a bone-crushing hug.
“Gross.” He buries his face in the crook of Yahaba’s neck, kisses and nibbles the skin there. He feels Yahaba’s pleased laugh against his lips as he mouths at his throat.
He wants to smother Yahaba with all these mushy feelings he’s giving him. Wants to let him know how much his presence affects him; to let him know how much he loves him.
When Yahaba returns the hug, Kyoutani thinks that this is fine for now. He’ll be sure to repay the favour next time. Next time for sure.
For now, he basks in the warmth of the man in front of him.
3.
“Kentarou-kun,” Yahaba’s mother smiles sweetly as she opens the door for him. “Come in dear. Again, I’m sorry for troubling you like this.”
“T’sokay. I brought his homework.” He mumbles as he toes off his shoes and hands her a box of cake he’s happen to bought on the way. Kyoutani loves Yahaba's mom to bits and can't help but buy her things.
“Thank you so much dear. Shigeru is upstairs, but be careful. I wouldn’t want you to get sick as well. I’ll be in the kitchen, if you need me.”
Kyoutani nods before walking off to Yahaba’s room. As soon as he opens the door he’s greeted by Yahaba burrowed on his bed, blankets wrapped around him like a cocoon. Yahaba peeks an eye open to look at Kyoutani, before lapsing into a coughing fit. It pains him to see Yahaba like this.
“You still look like shit.” He starts, closing the door behind him.
“I still feel like shit,” Kyoutani sits on the bed right beside Yahaba, feels it dip due to the added weight.
“Hm.” He eyes the empty medicine foils and tissues that were thrown haphazardly around the trash bin under the bedside table.
“Did anything interesting happen today?” Yahaba asks, voice scratchy from coughing.
“The first years tasted hell, that’s what.” Kyoutani snorts. “They were fooling around and accidentally spiked the ball to Kunimi’s head. He blanked out for a bit. Kindaichi was sweating like a fucker.”
The taller laughs breathlessly, as if picturing the whole scenario. “Oh my god.”
“Mizoguchi was super pissed about it, he forced them to do laps around the track field until they collapsed.” Yahaba laughs louder at that.
“I feel bad for them.”
“I feel bad for Kunimi. Can’t blame him if he doesn’t remember us tomorrow.” Yahaba bit back his lip, but laughs anyways. He had to stop after a while because it gets him to another coughing fit. Kyoutani reaches over and rubs soothing circles on his back. “Scoot.”
Yahaba blinks and looks at him questioningly. Kyoutani sighs. He slides under the piles of covers and wraps his arms around Yahaba, burying his nose in the soft tufts of brown hair.
“Kyoutani, I’m sweaty and sick.” Yahaba whines.
“Don’t care.”
“But—”
Kyoutani looks down at Yahaba and pecks him on the lips. Once, twice and thrice for good measure. He smirks at the way Yahaba’s already flushed cheeks grow even redder. Yahaba burrows his face onto Kyoutani’s chest.
“Idiot,” He mumbles, softly and he kind of wanted to punch the wall to feel manly again. “Don’t blame me if you catch my cold...”
“I won’t.” He mumbles before showering Yahaba’s hair and forehead with kisses. Now was the perfect time.
“Hey Yahaba.” Kyoutani clears his throat, and coughs. He can feel his face heating up. Now or never. He shuts his eyes tight. “I— uh, shit. I… Iloveyou.”
Kyoutani was sweating, he can feel his heart pounding like he ran for miles. After a few moments of silence, he dared to peek down at Yahaba— only to find him sleeping. Mother fucker. Kyoutani felt himself deflate, from relief or disappointment— he didn’t know. He just sighs and hugs the other tighter.
“Get well already.” He whispers against Yahaba’s forehead.
He does get sick.
Yahaba gives him hell for it.
4.
Kyoutani felt like crying.
Or puking. Whatever it was, it was like he was being punched in the gut while he watches Yahaba forcibly swallow down his pathetic excuse of baking.
The reason why Kyoutani baked in the first place was because Yahaba would bring homemade bento for him, despite his protest. Yahaba can be quite stubborn when he well choses to be. So it had become a regular thing for them. Yahaba would cook his lunch every time, without fail. And Kyoutani just wanted to return the favour.
Which is how he ended up feeding Yahaba his poisonous sandpaper and rock cookies. In his defense, they looked perfectly edible— it was late when Kyoutani finished and he was bone-tired from practice so he didn’t bother sampling them. He figured since he was fine with cooking, his baking skills would be on par.
Guess not.
Kyoutani cringes as Yahaba crunches on another cookie— it sounds like someone’s breaking their bones. Yahaba might as well have. He winces when the other bit down and made a loud cracking sound. He really wants to cry.
“You don’t have to force yourself, y’know…” he mumbles, so quietly that Yahaba had to strain to hear it.
“It— it’s fine. A little dry and hard, but it still tastes good.” Yahaba smiles sheepishly and reaches down for another cookie.
“You’re such a damn liar,” Kyoutani sighs and snatches the Tupperware away from Yahaba’s hands. “It’s fine, don’t eat it anymore.”
Yahaba looks affronted. It would've been so adorable had he not smacked Kyoutani on the back of his head. “Ow! The hell was that for—”
“See here babe,” Yahaba coos mischievously, knowing full well how much Kyoutani dislikes that pet name. And surely enough, the other’s eyes narrow dangerously in a silent warning. “It’s the first time you ever made something for me, and you’re telling me not to eat them??”
“Well, yeah,” Kyoutani blinks then reaches to scratch the back of his neck, downright embarrassed for his failed attempt to spoil his lover. “You might kill yourself.”
Yahaba sighs and runs his hands over his brown tresses. “That’s not how it works Kyoutani. I don’t care if you messed up dumb biscuits and that it tastes bad. If the person you love cooks for you, of course you’re going to eat it. I’m happy you made me cookies. Really. I am.”
Kyoutani’s eyes widen a fraction at that. He stares at Yahaba and he stares back with a pout, the way he always does when he wants to win an argument. Unfair. Kyoutani thinks. He’s winning this one for sure.
“You just admitted they were bad,” he murmurs and reluctantly hands the Tupperware back. Yahaba grins.
“It’s okay babe,” He stuffs another cookie into his mouth. “How about ikura don next time, yeah? You know I like that.”
Kyoutani painfully watches Yahaba finish all the cookies, and he honest-to-God feels blessed to be loved by such an idiot.
Love you so much, Kyoutani whispers to himself. And as Yahaba downs a large gulp of water, he vows to get better at baking.
5.
It started off innocently, really. he came over to Yahaba’s place to study, take a nap together, maybe cuddle. And that's it, nothing more, nothing less. But, as long as Yahaba is in close proximity to him, things never go as planned, cause well…
Yahaba was simply sitting on his bed reading about linear equations, quadratic formulas or whatever god-awful math lesson they were about to study. Nothing relatively sexy about that.
But the thing is, he was wearing a giant powder blue sweater that hung loose around his slender frame; exposing collarbones and a sliver of the area between his neck and shoulder. The sweater ended around the middle of his thigh, hiding Yahaba’s disturbingly fitting boxer briefs. The shorter man sucks in a bated breath— and yeah, he’s gay. Kyoutani is definitely so fucking gay.
“Hey,” Yahaba smiles oh, so innocently as he watches Kyoutani stagger to his bed. “What’s wrong?”
“You damn tease. You’re doing this on purpose.” Kyoutani hisses and sits down on the edge of the bed. Yahaba’s grin slowly morphs into a sly smirk, and Kyoutani wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch or devour him into the mattress. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He hums, too pompous for Kyoutani’s liking.
“Stop being a shit.” He watches Yahaba with lidded eyes as the other moves closer to him. Kyoutani growls softly, eyeing the way Yahaba lick his lips and then they’re so close. Just a little lean and they’ll be making out until Yahaba will be a panting mess under him, begging for Kyoutani to take him. Just a little bit more and they'll be making a mess of the sheets and Yahaba's pretty boy face. Just a little more—
Yahaba abruptly halts in place, and Kyoutani's worried he's done something wrong but then Yahaba sneezes— downright sneezes loudly and suddenly at his face.
It startles Kyoutani so much that he jolts backwards as if he was burned, a bit too much, and accidentally falls off Yahaba’s bed; landing on the floor with a shocked yelp.
They look at each other silently, both in shock and embarrassment. Well. That ruined the moment. Kyoutani sees the other’s cheeks grow red. After the initial shock, they can’t help but burst out laughing.
“For fuck’s sake Yahaba.”
“That was so lame— Oh my god,” Yahaba laughter toned down into wheezes. He clutches his stomach and sags down the bed. He chances a glance at Kyoutani and starts laughing all over again, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. “That was totally not sexy at all, oh god. I fail at seducing.” Kyoutani chuckles before picking himself up and plopping on top of the other.
“If it makes you feel better, I was fairly turned on before you went and ruined everything.” Yahaba snorts and gently bit Kyoutani’s nose. The shorter male props himself up and pins Yahaba’s hands above his head.
“I’m honestly too embarrassed to continue,” he admits sheepishly, biting his lip to hold back his laughter and Kyoutani smothers him with kisses. “Wouldn’t want to sneeze on you again.”
“S’okay, Iove you and your sexiness.” Kyoutani mumbles while running his hands underneath Yahaba’s shirt. Kyoutani can see that Yahaba is really trying really hard to compose himself. But he’s failing miserably. Kyoutani hums softly and nipped at the other’s earlobe.
“What did you say?” he says between gasps of pleasure and hiccups of restrained laughter.
“I said screw you and your non-existent sexiness.”
Yahaba pouts adorably. Kyoutani feels weak and why is this my life. “Okay wow, rude. After I tried to make myself pretty for you.”
“Let’s try that again, shall we?” his lover grins and pulls him down for a kiss.
+1.
“So I was saying,” Kyoutani idly taps his hand on the desk, his biology homework abandoned in favour of talking to Yahaba on the phone. They don’t call each other often, (cause Kyoutani prefers talking personally) but when they do, it takes them hours and hours before they finally hang up.
“We should, like, throw a surprise birthday party for Oikawa-san.” Kyoutani notes the pleased lilt of Yahaba’s voice and closes his eyes. He could talk for years and Kyoutani would never get tired of listening. Hearing Yahaba calms him down and eases some of his stress away. (When Yahaba is not mocking and yelling at him, of course) There’s no way he'll admit that though.
“Hell no.” Kyoutani replies gruffly. “He said he’d treat us to ramen.”
Yahaba sighs, it comes out as static through the line. “But the seniors are finally going to visit us after so long. We should do something special at least.” Kyoutani can already see the pout on Yahaba’s lips.
“I dunno, you’re the captain. Go ask the others if that’s what you want to do.”
“I will. And I’ll ask Matsukawa-san and Hanamaki-san as well.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Kyoutani scoffs, imagining what sort of chaos that demon couple may conjure.
“Hmm. Maybe. But if I ask Iwaizumi-san, then Oikawa-san would find out. You know Oikawa-san can see through him.” Well, he can’t argue with that. He can see through everyone.
Kyoutani hears rustling and a second voice speak softly. Probably Yahaba’s mother. “I have to go babe. Mom told me to do groceries for her right now, or else she’ll kill me.” Yup, his mom.
Kyoutani snorts. “Damn shame. Sadly, I’m not into necrophilia.”
“Oh, whatever. Let’s talk about this tomorrow with the team then, yeah? See you tomorrow Kentarou.”
“Yeah sure. Love you.” And with that, Kyoutani hangs up.
He turned his attention back to his notes and eyes the Krebs cycle disdainfully, wondering how the hell do these things work, really. He was halfway through Ketoglutarate when he realized what he just told Yahaba.
His eyes widen when he finally processes things. The shock finally kicks in. He drops his pencil.
Mari, Kyoutani’s beloved golden retriever, jolts awake from her peaceful sleep when she hears a loud, indignant ‘FUCK’ resound from the other room.