“I can’t sleep.” – “Me neither. Wait, I have something.” Tooru reaches underneath their bed, pulling out a flat black cardboard box. Hajime shuffles closer and hugs him from behind, glancing over his shoulder as Tooru opens the lid. And within moments, a story of paper and ink unfolds before them. This is how they met.

“You kept all our post-its?”
“Yeah. Everything we ever wrote. Look, here’s – “

“H-a-j-i-m-e.” The first time Tooru wrote his name. The paper they used is mostly blank, back when they were in elementary school, no lines for long words yet.

Then, a bit later, pink pages out of Tooru’s old favourite notepad.
“Which girl do you think is the cutest?” Hajime’s handwriting was terrible back then, god.
“None. They’re all mean.”
“I told them to stop pulling your hair. I can tell them again.”
“Thank you, Haji.”
“No problem. You’re my best friend.”

The next batch of notes is younger, scrawled over pages from college blocks. Middle school, high school, tons of notes and stories and oh, they were so young.
“Gotta talk to you after training’s over later.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Well, I don’t know. Maybe I’m sick.”
“Shit, go see a doctor.”
“I – I just think I’m different. Strange.”
“That’s okay. How are you different?”
And then, the next day: “It’s called being gay. You’re not sick, Tooru. It’s okay.”

A long letter, crumpled up between the notes. “You will never read this, Hajime. I just had to get it out. Last night I cried like a stupid baby because I realized I could never kiss you. I’m sorry for loving you, god, I’m so, so sorry, I – “

Time flies through their notes, and the youngest pile of notes – yellow and filled with doodles from Tooru’s joyful fingers – has Hajime smile.
“We need some junk food & coke for tonight, can’t wait to watch the movie with you! ♥ Tooru”
“I don’t know when you’ll be home. Left food in the fridge for you. Hope you had a nice night. The girl you met in that bar, huh? She’s cute. Good luck.”

“When will you talk to me again?”
“This is childish.”
“The dorm doesn’t clean itself. I’m busy, can’t do it.”
“Please, talk to me. I don’t wanna keep putting sticky notes onto your door.”
“I didn’t go with the girl. I went to Kageyama’s.”
“Fuck. Fuck you. I hate you for making me do this. I love you, always have, always will. Talk to me.”
“Put an alien movie in.”
“I can make pizza. I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
“You’re an idiot. Pizza is great.”

Hajime leans in and kisses Tooru’s cheek. “Tomorrow, you can put another letter into the box, y’know.” And Tooru smiles, rubs away the tears shimmering in his eyes, before he closes the box and lies back down. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

The wedding vows still rest on their nightstands in the morning, two pure white envelopes catching the sunlight with their silver writing.
“Hajime.”
“Tooru.”

‘Kittenwhisper.’ – fic. kuroken.

Kenma Kozume / Tetsurou Kuroo.

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 3,397

Rating: General Audiences

Characters: Kenma Kozume, Tetsurou Kuroo, Lev Haiba, Morisuke Yaku

Tags: Confessions, Pining, First Kiss

Summary:

“Can you say it? Just once? Te-tsu-rou?” It would be so nice to hear his first name off Kenma’s lips. Maybe he’s an idiot for wishing that. But love makes people do the dumbest, bravest things, even risking a perfectly fine friendship.

‘Kittenwhisper.’ – fic. kuroken.

Morning’s Silver.

“Kuroo, your face is all stubbly. Didn’t you shave this morning?” Bokuto reaches out and rubs a finger along Kuroo’s jaw, nudging his cheek until Kuroo grunts. “Did you forget? You’re usually perfectly shaven.”

“I know. It’s just – “ How is he going to explain? “Kenma’s on a field trip for his biochemistry class, and – “

– his mornings are lonely now, but soon Kenma will return and wake him with warm, soft kisses again, a whisper against Kuroo’s throat, the tiniest lick against his mouth. “Wake up, Tetsu,” his kitten will mumble, and crawl out of the bed to make breakfast. They will eat in bed, because Kenma is a saint and Kuroo’s last unregretted sin, and he will feed his lover fruit and kiss coffee with cream and too much sugar from his sinful mouth.

And then Kuroo will undress and sit before the mirror on his desk, and Kenma gets the black leather case. The razor inside is silver, polished and sharpened to silent perfection. Kuroo leans his head back against Kenma, his hair touching his lover’s stomach, and Kenma stands still as he applies the white shaving foam to Kuroo’s jaw, neck, the calm line of his throat.

His eyes are closed when Kenma pulls the blade over his skin. It feels like nothing, barely a touch. Kuroo’s universe narrows down to the symphony of metal kissing his bare skin, and Kenma’s free hand tilts his head and turns his jaw, morphing Kuroo into the position he wants him in.

When the razor’s song of silence is over, Kenma will set it down and carefully take the balm to soothe Kuroo’s face with. His fingers dance, a choreography Kuroo will never get tired of feeling deep down to his bones as Kenma kisses his forehead and rubs the cooling balm over Kuroo’s soft neck. “All done,” Kenma would whisper then, and Kuroo would stand only then to turn and catch his mouth, to murmur “kitten” into his lips and –

“Kuroo?” Bokuto shakes his shoulder. “You alright there? We gotta go.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says and touches his jaw. It’s three days until Kenma returns. “Let’s go.”

hoodoodle:

miniminiimin imini minimini-teaser for an comic I’m working on for @moami, directly inspired by this post.

I dunno why I’m doing this to myself. Probably because moami’s writing’s just too good not to. T 7 T

I absolutely cannot wait to see the finished comic. I feel like my voice should be hoarse from how much I have been yelling at you about iwaoi the past days, and now you are drawing for my work and I am honestly a puddle on the ground. Talli, you are such a warm, kind person, I am thankful and blessed that we met. I will scream more when you post the finished version. Hugs! ♥♥

“If my father ever catches you in this position, we will both be – oh. Ohh.”

Hajime presses his slick mouth against the soft inside of Tooru’s shivering thigh and glances up at him. “I will be dead, you will be disinherited. I know. I do not care.”

Before Tooru can say anything else, Hajime hooks one of his legs over his shoulder and brushes his wet-shining lips against the heat between Tooru’s gorgeous legs. It is a wish come true to watch his lover collapse, hips arching in a bow of pale skin and milky traces from the long hour before where Hajime has made him come. Tooru is taking his breath away, burning his skin off with every touch, and when his long elegant fingers tangle in Hajime’s hair, he can feel Tooru tremble hard and uncontrolled, desperate for more.

Hajime kisses the sharp edge of Tooru’s hips, eyes dark and hungry. “But as long as you let me, I will still return, despite the risk,” he says, low and hot words whispered into the hitching skin of Tooru’s heaving stomach. “I want you,” is what Tooru moans back, before his head falls into a long beautiful column of purple-blue bitten skin when Hajime pushes down to devour him once more.

“Good,” he mumbles before his tongue takes Tooru apart, makes him crumble and scream and sob Hajime’s name into the hand he presses over his mouth. The other curls into the silken bed sheets, and his gown falls open over the crown prince’s naked chest when Hajime kisses him moments later and melts their bodies together with a growl, a careful thrust – and Tooru’s nails leave the best kind of pain on his back that he has ever felt.

Because Tooru is the heir to the crown, and what he takes, he takes to the fullest until it belongs to him with bone and soul.

beechichi:

Even the strong need a moment

(Inspired by my convo with @moami about iwaois XD Thank you for fangirling with me)

Bee is a beautiful person and an artist with a wonderful imagination and skillful hand. The light, the tear, their delicate faces – everything is so fitting and composed like a song, like a melody where every element flows together. ♥

The storm inside his head begins to rise in the last minutes of class.

Kenma stares down at his notes, at the pen in his fingers that has stopped writing. The professor says something. He doesn’t hear it. There is thunder in his ears, lightning curling into a monster’s white teeth behind his eyes. He’s had eight hours of class. Home, home, he needs to go home.

There are too many people, the world roars around him, too much and loud and everything screams, bright and sharp and no, no, he packs his things and the class is over and he runs. Words fly around him, he runs, the dorm, please –

When the door slams shut behind him, silence comes down like a wave of pure white. His dorm is quiet. Tetsurou’s on the couch, stretched out like a lazy cat with its belly turned to the sun, a book in one hand and the other behind his head. He looks over the rim of his glasses when Kenma drops his bag.

“Bad day?” He asks, soft. Kenma takes a step. It’s hard. He has no energy. Everything is quiet, and that’s good. Tetsurou puts the book away and opens his arms. “Cuddling? Alone-time? Should I – “

Kenma doesn’t know how he’s doing it, but he flings himself onto the couch and into the warm hug of his boyfriend. “There you are,” a gentle whisper into his hair, Tetsurou’s hands sliding carefully to rest on his ribs, the small of his back. “I’m here. It’s okay. What do you need?”

He can’t speak. “Okay then. You’re safe.” His body keeps trembling. Tetsurou doesn’t press, doesn’t ask again. But when Kenma reaches to touch his mouth, a shivering finger tracing his lips, Tetsurou tilts his head down. “Want a kiss?”

Kenma finds that he can still nod. And Tetsurou rests a warm hand in his neck, thumb caressing the pulse of blood at its side, and gives him a kiss.

He doesn’t know when he’s fallen asleep after that. But when he blinks, it’s dark outside, and Tetsurou’s back to reading his book. He smiles at Kenma when he sneaks his mouth to nuzzle it against Tetsurou’s jaw.

“Dinner?” – “Yes,” Kenma says, and smiles a tiny bit. “Yes, I’d like that.”

how about some post-first time fluff (like cuddles in bed and talking totally fluffy and innocent)? Would that be okay? Iwaoi ❤❤❤ I love u senpai

The rain hasn’t stopped when he drifts back into consciousness. Tooru doesn’t open his eyes. A dark symphony of thunder growls outside, raindrops dancing onto the window in a calming rhythm, and the warm arm slung over Tooru’s stomach is heavy and sweaty. Hajime doesn’t move. His breath flows softly over the sleep-drowsy skin of Tooru’s neck, Hajime having pushed his face into there when hugging him after last night and not letting go of him again.

Tooru turns his head towards the ocean of breath curling against his pulse, and blinks. Even in the dim light of the street lantern from outside, even through the raging storm clouds and white lightning, Tooru still recognises the relaxed silhouette of Hajime’s face. His jaw rests against Tooru’s shoulder, a heavy hand spread onto his waist as if he’s holding Tooru safe, protecting him even in sleep.

“Good morning.” Tooru whispers the words so quiet that they’re barely alive.

“Mhmm.” Hajime doesn’t move, but his lips twitch for a second. Then, he presses the softest kiss onto Tooru’s neck. Oh. Memories of last drift back to him. Oh, he remembers, the touches and the pure heat, a blunt press into his body, and the wild shivers wrecking him with little gasps and moans, and through it all there had been Hajime, kissing and cradling and being with him –

“Hey, uhm. I didn’t…” Hajime’s breath stills, then he exhales. “…hurt you or anything, yesterday, right? I – you gotta be sore, shit, I should have – “

“God, shut up,” Tooru mumbles back, and it comes out much more loving than he’d intended. It’s ridiculous and heartbreaking and terrifying how much he loves this man. “You were – “ He swallows. Hajime’s looking at him, gentle fingers tracing Tooru’s lips. An encouragement. “I was what?”

“You were everything I wanted, okay, are you happy now? I bet you’re so smug that you got me to admit that, that you made me say you were – “

But Hajime just kisses him, long and breathless. Tooru forgets what he wanted to say and rolls onto his side, Hajime’s hand sliding from his waist to his hip, thumbing tenderly across his warm skin. Their mouths fit together, warm, soft, perfect. “It was the same for me,” Hajime finally whispers into the holy space between their lips. His nose brushes Tooru’s, and his dark eyes are shining bright and god, how can you love someone so much?

And then, Tooru sighs, and gives in to the urge of curling into Hajime’s arms and bathing in the warmth of his scent. “I’m glad it was with you.”

“I hope it’ll never be with anyone else again. For – for both of us.”

Tooru smiles. He kisses Hajime’s chin from below, and finds a comfortable position against his chest, one where he can feel his heartbeat in his own bones. “I think… I want that, too.”