#lemme be clear this is not one of those misunderstood films

[swan2swan]

Madame Web:

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 4

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 7.6k

[a/n]

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu

AO3

Part 3 || Part 5 || masterlist

Tsukishima might not like you, but at least you unspokenly agreed on how to treat the strange tension from last time’s meeting: ignore it. 

No one dared mention it. Since he arrived a while ago, no one talked unless needed. It’s not like the air is awkward, it’s just silent, devoid of last time’s weird shenanigan as you continued on with the unfinished assignment from his previous visit.

“I assume you’re done from how you’re spacing out at nothing,” he reprimands.

You flinch and realize that you’ve been staring at the wall behind Tsukishima. 

“Oh, uhhh.” You check your laptop to see your progress and surprisingly, you really are done. Your brain must have shut down on it’s own when it registered that you’re finished with your work for the day.

“Yep!” You snicker proudly at him. “Are we going to watch crocodiles doing the nasty now?” you ask him with eager interest.

You really have a way with words that always throws him off-guard, yet instead of scowling at you, he just gives out a resigned sigh. He knows you aren’t trying to irk him. That’s just how you really are.

It’ll be better for his sanity to just tolerate your and leave you be than drive himself to the brink of madness.

“Yeah,” he responds thriftly.

You giddily scurry over at his side of the table and comfortably seat yourself beside him. You hug your knees as he prepares several videos from BBC Earth and Nat Geo Wild that shows and explains crocodile mating behavior. He turns up the volume of his laptop to its loudest so you can both hear the audio clearly.

In the second video, the voice-over explains the kinds of display reptiles make to attract their potential mate. His eyes glance at you briefly. Not that he’s complaining about it, but you’re acting unusually docile today . You’ve been mostly quiet ever since he arrived.

It’s all good until he hears a wheezing noise that sounds all too real and all too weird for it to come from the video.

He looks to you and immediately finds the culprit.

Your lips are parted with your neck extended forward and your chin tilted up a bit while you produce guttural sounds, making it seem like you’re choking.

“What are you doing?”

You face him, still looking like an idiot as you continue making a sound he’s never heard of with the same absurd upper body posture. He looks at you with abhorrence when he starts to realize what you’re doing. 

Are you actually trying to imitate a crocodile bellowing for a mate?

You sit up straight and beam at him with pride. “How’s that for a mating call?”

If he were a male crocodile, he’d find another estuary to escape away from that horrible sound you were producing. “You sound like you’re dying,” he says as he remembers how it seemed like you were hoarsely scratching your vocal cords together.

“Wait, wait. Lemme try again,” you announce with determination, which he finds pointless and  totally unnecessary. He doesn’t care if you successfully do it. He even prefers you stop trying at all.

Yet, you still pressed on. You resume your earlier actions, looking even more ridiculous as you start to sound and look like a seagull squawking repeatedly. 

He should be irritated since you’re wasting time. Instead, he puts a fist over his mouth, attempting to hold back a snort. You don’t seem to notice because your eyes are on the laptop as you keep trying to replicate what you’re seeing on screen. 

When you actually start choking, he lets out the laugh that he’s been holding in which makes you look at him. You try to speak but it comes out distorted as you’re still coughing from your mating call attempt.

“You look like an idiot.” He laughs harder when regret surfaces on your eyes while clearing your throat.

He recovers from his outburst of laughter at the same time you manage to soothe your voice back to normal. He’s expecting you to be embarrassed from the stunt you tried to pull, which you appear to be seeing as you’re  covering your face with your palms. You don’t seem to be upset though because he can hear your muffled giggles.

You quickly remove your hands and face him. “I was sure I could do it, okay? You didn’t have to laugh that hard!” Despite the pout you show him, your eyes twinkle with levity as you hold his stare.

How the fuck you can you be so weird but still so pretty at the same time? 

No wonder you have the rest of them wrapped around your pretty little finger. You just flash them that delightful smile of yours and you completely have them under your spell.

But not him, of course. Definitely not him.

Also, he tries to convince himself, he didn’t think you were pretty at all.

He’s just looking from the perspective of his teammates on why they adore you so much. Nothing more, nothing else. 

To him, you’re still the irksome manager he knows you are. This set-up is just temporary. He’ll never forget how you really are - overbearing, cunning, and infuriating. This strangely charming  attitude you’re showing him is just because of the temporary ceasefire between the both of you, and this easy, comfortable atmosphere is just born out of necessity. When this project is finished, you’ll be back to the real you. So he shouldn’t be wasting his time reading into whatever’s happening between you two.

“Should we continue watching?” you ask him lightheartedly as you hug your knees again, softly leaning your head against them.

The nerve of you to ask that. You’re the one who disrupted the videos, not him. He should be the one berating you to get back to the project instead of you pleasantly asking him to continue where you left off. 

“You’re the one who interrupted the whole thing in the first place,” he spats rather than answering your question, wishing you’d retort with something stupid so he can go back loathing you silently.

Instead, you simper apologetically and mutter a timid, “My bad.”

Then you extend your arm to his laptop and rewind to where the video was before you distracted him with your audacious growling.

During the remainder of the videos, he glances every once in a while to check if you’re going to do something distracting again. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell anymore which is worse) you stay well-behaved and entirely focused on the documentary with your arms wrapped around your tucked legs tucked and your chin resting to your knee.

When the documentaries end, he pulls up the video he took with your phone from your crocodile farm trip. Compared to the produced output you’d just gone through, the amateur video he captured at the farm is evidently not as exciting to watch. The quality is not that great because his hand had been shaky while filming it. He remembered not looking at the screen of your phone while filming it because he had been looking at you. 

Rather than noticing that aspect of the video, you comment about the audio.  “I can’t hear anything from the breeding pen. I only hear my voice and Sara’s.”

He’s about to reason out that you’re talking non-stop but he immediately realizes that it’s not necessarily a bad thing because you were asking Sara questions related to the project at that time.

“I want to hear them growling,” you declare. 

“I’m not sure they even were. This is an artificial environment for crocodiles. Also, we’re a bit far from them,” he explains. 

You face scrunches up with disapproval. “Why didn’t you just zoom the camera in?”

His jaw drops from how appallingly dim-witted your question is. He’d think you were kidding but you look genuinely upset because you can’t hear the sounds you heard from the videos earlier. 

First of all, just like he said, they might not even be making sounds at all. Secondly, your phone, despite being a good model, wouldn’t be able to miraculously capture sounds even if he zoomed it outrageously close to the reptiles. Lastly and most importantly, are you actually that dumb?

He doesn’t even know how to condense all his thoughts properly and convey how revolted he is from the amount of brainlessness you can put in one simple question that’s less than ten words. 

Your eyes go wide when it finally hits you too.

“Oh God,” you mutter weakly as you put two palms to cover the lower half of your face. 

You two share the same expression of disgust as you realize how stupid you sounded while you hold his gaze. 

You press your lips together in a thin line then bust your gut out with an uproar laugh that fills your room. You tug the sleeve of his shirt as you look at him with glossy eyes.

“I’m a dunce,” you admit with trails of laughter still seeping from your voice.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one who thinks so,” he says with half-hearted insult as he’s still figuring out if he did something or is it your own stupidity that’s causing your outburst.

You bite your trembling lips in an attempt to fend off another laugh, but fails to do so when you clutch his arm tighter and another round of jovial laugh escapes from your mouth.

You try to form a phrase but it’s drowned out by your own cackles. Still, he catches on with what words you manage to utter. 

You are laughing at yourself. 

He always thought you liked making fun of others because you’re always simpering every time someone’s at your mercy -- those boys who relentlessly try to hit on you; any member of the team who gets flustered when you praise them; and him, especially him, who seems to be your personal favorite person to pick on. 

Yet, he’s never seen you this elated before, with your face scrunched up as you go hysterical from your own silliness. 

He can’t help but think that maybe he misunderstood you a little bit. You’re not actually a pompous bitch. You’re just a crackhead who finds joy in the littlest, most foolish things.

“I swear to God, Tsukishima. Our university is in ruin for making me a goddamn scholar.” You let go of his arm and sniffle while wiping your tears of joy.

When you look up to him, your face is glowing. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes are gleaming at him effervescently, and your smile is not as annoying as it used to be. 

Objectively speaking, it’s similar to your usual ones, except it’s also totally different. He can’t really fully grasp why but there’s something about it that distinguishes it from all the others he’s seen from you.

He must have been peering at you more than necessary because your smile dissolves gradually while your mirthful expression turns into a puzzled one. 

You’ve been trying to ignore the thought, but Tsukishima is definitely acting weird today; weird because he’s not as mean as he usually is. 

Well, duh. You do have some sort of agreement for him to tone it down. Still, you didn’t expect he’d do it this well. Even when he was laughing at you earlier, it wasn’t as demeaning as it should have been.

And to make you even more puzzled, right now, he’s just staring blankly at you. 

Generally, Tsukishima’s empty glares at you are not really empty. They contain inhibited disdain which he has not failed to show you over the years you’ve been their manager. Even when he’s actually trying not to let it show, you still easily see through him. 

But at this moment, you have no idea what’s going on in his head. His eyes are studying you quietly and you return his stare, trying to figure out what he could possibly be thinking. 

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong but as soon as you open your mouth, a familiar glint surfaces on his face as his gaze drops on your lips.

If the latter parts of the previous meeting were awkward, this one goes beyond awkward.

There is an abrupt drop of weight that looms across the whole room, a weight so heavy that you find it difficult to breathe. The room is spacious enough for two, but you feel like it’s too cramped up all of a sudden. 

It’s an all too familiar feeling that you did not anticipate would ever come back. In fact, it should not be back at all. 

It is as exciting as it is terrifying when you realize: you want to kiss him. 

You previously justified your actions as something sort of a ‘one time madness’ and. until now, you were sure it was just that. It was a whim brought by his sudden closeness fueled by the atmosphere of the club at the time. 

You were wrong.

Even at this dull, academic setting with him barely even touching you, you itch to feel him close. You want to relive the feeling of his body pressed against yours and his lips latched fervidly onto yours. 

Damn it. He should stop staring at you like he wants the same thing. It’s tempting you even more to give in to the urge even though you know you’ll regret it later.

But no, you really can’t. Once was enough. Twice will be a different story. 

You had assured him and yourself that it wouldn’t happen again. If you cross that line now, you’re going to have to admit the irrevocable fact that you’re attracted to him. 

You let out a shaky breath as you avert your gaze from his. 

You’re about to replay the video when you hear a sudden thud on the floor. You look back at him with worry only to see his hand slammed against the floor as he swiftly lunges forward to close the gap between you and him. 

His free hand goes to your chin and tilts it up as he crashes his lips on yours.

It’s just as you remember - calm yet impassioned, successfully sweeping away any incertitude you had about kissing him. Your mind is only filled with how good he feels as he impatiently drags his hand to your waist and tugs you closer. 

You wrap an arm around his neck to completely eliminate whatever space is left between your bodies. You grasp the back of his head as you return his kiss with the same ardor, your mouths naturally cascading against one another with a rhythm you two can perfectly understand and follow without any words needed.

When he sneaks his tongue in, you begin to forget what he is to you outside the confines of this room as you helplessly moan into his mouth.

You can tell he’s not doing so well either with how tight he’s grasping the small of your back as the intensity of the kiss grows with each ticking second. 

“Tsukishima,” you puff heavily as you withdraw away from him with half-lidded eyes, the feel of his lips still lingering on yours. 

You hope that the soft call of his name will be the voice of reason for him to stop kissing you. He needs to stop for you’re totally powerless to do it yourself. He needs to stop before it escalates into something else, something more.

Thankfully, he does stop. 

He takes a deep breath as his eyes travel from your lips up to your eyes, meeting your gaze to study the entirety of your features. 

He thought you were going to ask him to stop, hence the conflicted tone of your voice when you said his name. But the look on your face tells him otherwise. 

You like this as much as he does. He didn’t want to admit it last time, but fucking hell. You really do make a complete mess of his rational thinking with how good you taste, how your determined eyes mellow down within his embrace, and how you yield right on the first touch of his lips. 

He knows he should stop. It’s the perfect chance to do so. It shouldn’t matter how soft and pliant you are when pressed against him. It shouldn’t matter that you look like you want him to continue wherever this leads to.

But it does. He doesn’t want to stop, and he knows neither do you.

He grits his teeth in annoyance as he hisses at you, “Shut up.” 

Just like he did a while ago, he easily covers the tiny distance between your lips. He gets a little more greedy this time and slides his hand underneath your shirt, experimenting with what he can do to earn him another whimper from you. He’d like to revel on the sound of your meekness once again. 

It didn’t really take much. At the first contact of his palm on the bare skin of your waist, you instantly give him what he wants. 

Your soft moan fills his ears that he doesn’t hear the sudden clack of the door. 

“Y/n, did you do our - oh!”

You violently tug his head past the curve of your shoulder, making him take out his hand from your shirt and ram it against the floor to support himself. 

“Couldn’t you knock?” you ask breathlessly to whoever’s on the door.

He tries to free himself from you but judging from  how firm your grip is on his head, it doesn’t look like you want him to move from his current position. It doesn’t help that you’re almost choking him from how hard you’re pressing his neck against your collar bone. 

“I can’t breathe!” he whispers infuriatingly, but you don’t answer. You only clutch on his hair tighter.

“My bad, dude. I didn’t know you got yourself a boyfriend,” your friend says defensively. 

Out of all the possible times she could choose to come over, it had to be when you and Tsukishima were making out. You’re a tiny bit grateful for being stopped when neither of you wanted to, but more embarrassed that it was because your friend walked in on the scene. 

“Can you come back later?” you ask almost nervously, concerned that she might recognize that it’s Tsukishima leaning against you. She knows him because they used to have classes together last semester.

Your friend just shrugs it off and is about to close the door when her eyes catch Tsukishima’s jacket. Her eyes widen in shock when she sees the logo of the Sendai Frogs. 

“Holy shit! Are you dating one of your players?” She looks back at you incredulously. 

“Get out!” you yell out from agitation. 

She flinches from the sudden raise of your voice but is quick to understand that you need the privacy right now. “Okay, okay. I got it,” she mutters apologetically and whispers, “Sorry,” before she finally shuts the door.

You let out a sigh of relief when she leaves without figuring out that it was Tsukishima. As for him, he tears your hand away and faces you with fury seeping from his orbs. 

“Were you trying to kill me?!”

You dismiss his anger and regard him impassively. “Then would you have preferred your face being seen?”

“So what? It’s not like she knows me,” he leans forward towards you a bit to emphasize his point with the same angry tone.

With his face too close for comfort, you suddenly become aware of the fact that you’re still trapped between the arms planted on both sides of you. 

“Um, can you back off for a bit?” You turn away tensely, worried that you might want an encore of what your friend interrupted if you continue staring at him from this distance.

“Huh?” He sounds like he has no idea what you’re talking about so you place both hands on his chest to softly push him away.

He must have realized it then because he lifts himself off of you and sits back to upright. 

You try to settle down but to no avail. Your heart is still beating abnormally, despite being now  rid of your nosy friend and his dangerous proximity. The deafening silence rings in your ears and the air feels heavy again, your mind drifting dangerously back to the earlier events.

“This is your fault,” Tsukishima mumbles with a frown. 

You gasp at his audacity. “Excuse me? You’re the one who kissed me!” 

“Because you ...” he trails off before he could say what was going on in his head: because you looked so damn fascinating that he caved to his want for a repeat of that night. So it really is your fault. If you hadn’t kissed him back then, he wouldn’t have found out how exquisite it feels to have you succumb to him. Then, he wouldn’t have been tempted to kiss you at all. 

Shit. He sounds stupid, justifying his own reckless behavior. 

He looks down at your waist which he was just touching. If your friend hadn’t barged in, how far will you two have gone? 

He shudders at the thought. No. There was absolutely no fucking way you two would’ve done that. He won’t be able to stomach it if that happens. You might have been tolerable today, but that doesn’t mean he can stand the idea of going beyond making out with you. 

Did he just admit to himself that he doesn’t mind kissing you? 

“Because I what?” you ask him with an addled look. 

“Nothing,” he answers as he starts fixing his stuff. 

“Hey, what’re you doing? We still need to do a comparison write-up for the videos,” you say,  watching him pack up. 

“Let’s just pick up where we left off when we meet again.” He can’t be around you any longer today. You’re causing too much havoc to his usually sensible mindspace. 

“Aren’t we going to talk about what just happened?”

Not bothering to heed your question, he continues what he’s doing. After he puts the only remaining binder he has out back in his bag, he faces you. 

“No,” is his answer before he slings his bag over his shoulder and leaves your room. 

--

Damn that Tsukishima. 

As if you don’t have enough on your plate already, he adds another massive one on the pile. You wish you can just disregard it, push it at the back of your head like you did the first time. But you can’t. 

You were supposed to study the Lion’s new line, but you just end up zoning out every five minutes as the scene replays in your head. You even transferred to the lobby even though you hated working there just for a change of pace.

It turned out useless as people you know kept on stopping by for small chats. You couldn’t focus on the game footages which needs your full concentration to analyze.

So there you are, restless and distraught,  as you enter the gym with no printed output because you hadn’t accomplished anything at all.

Not that they need it today but you just generally like to have them ready in advance. You know your team. Almost everyone has their day jobs or are students like you. You don’t want to spring a hell load of reading material on them days away from the game. 

On top of that, you’re lagging behind the schedule you set for your project with the Tsukishima. No thanks to him for walking out the past two meetings.

“Do you have the profile of the Lions ready?” Coach Mira asks first thing when you get to her side. 

Great. Just great. You were hoping no one brings it up, but of course Coach has to. You did tell her you’d have it prepared by today.

“Sorry, Coach. I’ll have them ready by next training,” you quickly compromise for your setback. 

She swiftly turns to you with concern. “Are you sick?”

“Oh, no. I’m totally fine, Coach. Just had something to do last night,” you lie despite the guilt in your gut. The last time you were late with the team reports was when you became extremely sick. This time it’s because of some blonde guy that’s somewhere across the gym.

She breathes a relieved sigh. “Thank God. I don’t really mind them being not as early as usual. I just don’t want our trusted manager getting sick.”

Her small compliment makes you feel a bit better. “Thanks, Coach.” You give her a faint smile.

“Alright, can you toss to the spikers?”

You nod and quickly turn around, only to see the cause of your delayed work blocking your path. Typically, you’d say something but you’re too bothered with what happened that you just move sideways to avoid him. However, he moves in the same direction you do. So you go the opposite way again, only for him to follow. 

At this point, you couldn’t suppress the dry laugh that comes from how spectacularly ironic the scene is. 

You look up to him. “Tsukishima,” you call out as you give him that too sweet of a grin he hates so much. “I’d appreciate it if you use those blocking skills on the court instead of me, hmm?”

This is the you Tsukishima is very much aware of - detestable to the core. Yet, on top of his annoyance is relief. It’s reassuring to see that you’re still very much the manager he knows you are, not the somehow tolerable person he made out with last time.

So instead of answering, he does the usual and turns deaf ears at you. While you’re sneering at him, he moves further to the side and successfully gets past you. 

He’d tell you about his fix for the current dilemma you two are having, but with Coach within earshot, he’d rather not. He doesn’t want anyone, especially the team, knowing that you’re spending some time alone with him, let alone getting physical with him. He’ll never hear the end of it from them, so he’ll just text you later. 

--

You can’t believe Tsukishima actually suggested doing the project at their home. You don’t think he’s the kind of person who invites classmates to their house just because of school work. It is hard to imagine him introducing people to whoever he’s living with, let alone you.

Maybe they’re gone for the day. That’s why he invited you over. 

You ring the doorbell of the address he gave you. Quite soon enough, another tall blonde person opens the door. He must be another Tsukishima - a nice Tsukishima with a pleasant face that looks nothing like the permanent nonchalance plastered on the face of your middle blocker. 

“Yes?” the pleasant Tsukishima asks. 

You greet him with a warm smile. When you ask for the other Tsukishima you’re going to work with, his face noticeably lights up. “You’re looking for Kei?” he asks softly but with audible excitement. 

“Um, yeah. He asked me to come.” You’re very curious as to why he looks so pleased, but it’d be rude to ask him upfront when you just met him.

Before the guy in front of you can even answer, you already hear the voice of the one you’re looking for. 

“Let her in, Nii-chan.”

Nii-chan? Oh my God. That’s the cutest thing ever! You didn’t think Tsukki’s the kind of guy to address his older sibling like that. 

“I’m Akiteru by the way,” the older Tsukishima introduces himself as he opens the door for you.

“Y/n. here,” you respond delightfully then give him a gracious bow before entering. 

As you remove your shoes upon stepping inside, you already see Tsukki seated in the living room with his stuff set up. You don’t know if he’s started working on the project but he’s already focused on his laptop.  

You would've made yourself feel at home, but this is not solely his place. You don’t want to be impolite. 

“You can go join him, Y/n. I’ll go to my room now,” Akiteru kindly tells you and turns around. 

“Wait,” you blurt out.

He faces your way again. “Yeah?”

“Can I call you Aki-san? I don’t want to confuse you when I say ‘Tsukishima.’” 

He gently holds both your hands and pulls them up as he clasps them together with his.

“You can call me Aki-nii-chan if you want,” he says with a hopeful look on his face. You can tell he’s got the completely wrong idea about you and Tsukishima, which confirms your earlier assumption.

Yet instead of being uncomfortable, you find yourself amused. Tsukishima must have never brought a girl home before, thus the excitement and false assumption from Akiteru. 

“I think I like Aki-san better,” you respond respectfully, hoping that you don’t have to spell it out for him.

“Stop it. She’s just a classmate,” you hear Tsukishima say.

Akiteru lets go of your hand and laughs apologetically. “Sorry about that. I’ll leave you two alone now.” He smiles briefly at you and heads upstairs.

You walk towards Tsukishima and sit beside him. “What were you thinking inviting me over?” you instantly ask. You know he must already be aware of the possibility that his relatives would very likely  assume things, which was just proven true by Akiteru.

“As much I despise the idea of having you here, this is better than being in your place,” he says with his attention still on his laptop.

“How so?” You glance at his laptop and see that he’s working on a different subject than the one you have together. When notices it, he closes the tabs and faces you.

“We’re not completely alone here. We won’t get unwelcome urges.”

Oh dear Lord. So that’s what this is about. He thinks that being alone with you is the cause of it.

“I hate to remind you this, Tsukishima, but the first time we kissed was in the middle of a club packed with people. It’s not the place that’s the issue,” you emphasize the last sentence.

Before you went there, you decided to just accept the fact that you and Tsukishima have this uncanny attraction towards each other. The last meeting’s events were proof of that. Instead of getting all worked up trying to deny it or disregard it as something else, you just acknowledge it for what it really is. 

“Then what is?” Unlike you, he seems to entirely shut out the disturbing conclusion you came up with. That’s why he decided to meet here instead of your place despite whatever his family might think.

Too bad for him though, you’re about to break the news to him.

“We’re attracted to each other,” you declare without any reluctance.

“No,” he quickly rejects the notion. “I don’t care what you feel about me, but I am not in any way attracted to you,” he says every word with solid conviction that you’re not sure if it’s meant to convince you or himself.

“Right. Why did you kiss me last time then?” you counter.

“Whatever the reason is, that doesn’t mean I’m attracted to you. I tolerate you when we’re not in the gym. That’s the extent of what I feel for you.”

You sigh as you rub your face with your palms. “Why do you have to be such a fucking tsundere, Tsukki? I’m doing this for the both of us.”

His face contorts to one that’s filled with utter displeasure. “How the hell is this beneficial for us?”

“Hear me out and think about it before you say ‘no’ again,” you begin. “I think we should just give in to this weird thing going on between us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re starting to get annoyed at this point. His denial of the situation is making him stupid. Does he think this is easy for you? You don’t want this either. But what can you do? The thick, unmistakable attraction is there.

For fuck’s sake, do you really have to spoonfeed it to him?

“Tsukishima Kei,” you let out one heavy puff before you say it. “You’re allowed to kiss me when it’s just the two of us,” you announce.

You’ve never felt more offended than when he looks utterly disgusted at your proposal. 

“Your head’s way too big from all the moronic ideas you're stuffing in it. Just because I initiated it last time doesn’t mean I want to do it again,” he utters each word with unrepressed contempt that makes you feel humiliated for suggesting such a thing.

You’re not a sensitive person. You can easily laugh off whatever anyone throws your way. Especially with Tsukishima since you know much he dislikes you. But that one - that one hurt. 

You shake your head and start taking out your stuff. “You’re right. It was a moronic idea. So forget I even suggested it,” you say while setting up your laptop on the table. 

You can’t stand the repugnant look on his face so you keep your eyes in front of you even if your laptop is still booting up.

“Let’s just do what we should be doing. Sorry, I wasted our time with my stupidity.” You don’t want to, but now you’re starting to really feel sorry for yourself. 

It shouldn’t be new or surprising to you. This is Tsukishima. His personality is terrible as hell. Yet, you wouldn’t mind a few kisses from him every now and then. You bared yourself just now by admitting that. 

Tsukishima must be so pleased you finally shut up because you don’t hear anything from him. You’re thankful for it because you don’t want to talk either.

Instead of dwelling on self-loathing, you distract yourself by giving your all to the project at hand. You’re already behind schedule so all the more reason to be efficient. 

No one speaks while you completely lose yourself on your tasks for the day. You don't know how long you’ve been going at it but before you even know it, you’re almost done with your share of work for the day. 

You just need Tsukishima’s output to finish yours.

With your head occupied with the amount of work you need to get done, you easily got over the tiny pang you felt earlier. You turn to Tsukishima and ask him for his write up. 

He frowns at your request. “You’re done already?”

You nod. “Just need your thingy then I can go home.”

He checks your laptop to see for himself and scowls when he confirms that you really are almost done.

“Give me 30 minutes,” he says as he begins rushing his own work.

“Don’t rush it, Tsukishima. I can do other stuff while I wait for you. Also, if you don’t mind. Do you have coffee?” You can feel the exhaustion begin to set in your body. For the past four nights, you’ve been getting three to fours of sleep only. 

As the only manager of the Frogs, you constantly have to move around the gym to help them out. But unlike the players, your real work is outside the gym - sorting paperwork, gathering information about other teams, coordinating practice matches, and so on. On top of that, you have your academic subjects to deal with.

You’re honestly used to it. But being a graduating student this semester, things are tougher for you. Not to mention the shit with Tsukishima, which has been bothering you for the past few nights. 

Well, at least that one’s been dealt with already.

You must have spaced out because you did not notice Tsukishima leave, and are surprised when he’s suddenly beside you with a cup of coffee already at hand. 

“Did you put sugar?” You might have sounded a bit demanding, but you’re too tired to be polite.

“No. Did you want some?” he asks back.

You get the mug and take that first sip of coffee that wakes up your almost dead body. “No, this is perfect,” you comment with a weary smile as you replace the current doc file open with the draft of the Lions’ profile you’ve been working on. 

Tsukishima can’t help but look at you once in a while even though he needs to finish already so you can finalize yours as well.

You’re completely immersed in what you’re doing, taking the cup of coffee to your mouth every now and then without even taking your eyes off your screen. 

He thought you’re getting restless but the quickening clack of your keyboard is proving otherwise. In fact, it’s becoming distracting. He’s about to put his headphones on so he can concentrate on his own task when he hears the abrupt slowing down of your typing. What’s alarming is he starts hearing you take excruciatingly deep breaths that wavers when you let them out. 

One look at you and he knows that you’re not okay. You’re blinking way too fast and the corners of your mouth are almost drooping. Those and your uneven breathing is enough to cause him to worry. 

He grabs your shoulder and forces you to look at him. “Oy, what’s wrong with you?”

You look at him with no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Hmm?”

The lack of life in your orbs is very concerning. It’s nothing compared to how you looked like when you were dead beat on the way home from the crocodile farm. 

“Are you having hard time breathing?” 

“Oh, that,” you let out a laugh that seems to contain the last strand of energy you have. “I’m just palpitating. Sorry if it’s distracting. You should go put your headphones on,” you say with a dead tone as you start picking up the pace again on what you’re doing. 

Just palpitating? Jesus Christ. 

He quickly takes away your coffee and slides it to his side of the table. It immediately catches your attention, your eyes absent-mindedly following the cup. “Hey, that’s my coffee. I need that,” you weakly complain.

“You need to rest,” he contradicts you. 

“I don’t need rest. I need to finish this and for me to finish this, I need,” you involuntarily inhale sharply and release it heavily before you complete your sentence, “that coffee.”

He checks your laptop and finds a comprehensive report on the updated line up of the Hiashi Automotive Lions. For someone who looks like she’s about to faint, it’s consistent with the other reports you’ve given the team previously - organized and well done. 

“You’re almost done here. Go take a nap.”

“Why would I take a nap if I’m almost done?” Despite the exhaustion evident in your whole being, you’re still determined to continue working. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out and I don’t want to take care of you when you do. So take a fucking nap on the couch,” he snaps. He didn’t mean to sound that harsh but it’s really getting on his nerves how you’re almost killing yourself with overworking.

You stare at him vacantly for a short while but do what he said. You drag yourself towards the couch and lazily lie yourself on it.

You cross your arms and rest them on the cushioned surface. Then, you snuggle your head on top of your arms as you wiggle your legs to a comfortable position. 

“You can use the pillows” he informs you.

“I’m fine,” you mutter with your eyes already shut. 

As much as he wants to get things done as fast as he can, your uneven heaving is a cause of concern. He keeps glancing behind him to check if you’re okay.

If he knew you’d be like this, he wouldn’t have given you the damn coffee.

He’s only able to start focusing on the project when your breathing becomes steady. Still, it took him more than 30 minutes to finish. He looks over to where you are again and calls out your name. However, you don’t even move an inch.

He walks towards the couch and sits at the unoccupied space by your waist. From this distance, he can see that your features are a bit more relaxed now even with just less than an hour of sleep.

He’s certain that you’ve been overworking yourself. It’s only because of your stubbornness that you were able to pull off the things you accomplished tonight. 

He’d let you rest a bit more longer but it’s going to get too late for you to go home on your own if he does. So he places a hand on your arms and gently shakes it.

“Mmmmm,” you hum on the arm you’re leaning at before slowly opening your eyes. With heavy lids, you plant your hand on the cushion and forcefully prop yourself up. Yet when you manage to sit up, you rest your head on your shoulder and close your eyes again.

“2 minutes,” you mumble sleepily.

He watches you fight the drowsiness that’s completely settled in. Instead of complaining when you still haven’t snapped out of it, he moves to sit beside you. He puts a gentle hand on the side of your head and softly tugs you to lean on his shoulder.

The moment your temple touches his shoulder, you bolt right up. His unexpected action has sucked the sleepiness out of you for a moment as you begin to put your guard up.

“I’m up. I’m up,” you announce in an alert manner as you scoot away from him. You frantically rub your eyes to get them to open.

So he isn’t imagining it: what he said a while ago got to you. Else, you wouldn’t have moved away like you’re allergic to his touch. You had been unusually quiet after he lashed out at you, but can you blame him for doing so? You’re basically saying that it’s okay to make out when it’s just you two. It’s fucking ridiculous. You should be thinking about how to avoid the situation from happening again, not succumb to it.

So why does he feel like a dick for calling you a moron? And why is he upset now that you’re actually doing what he wants you to do? Also, how the fuck are you so charming even when you’re half asleep before him?

“Are you done with yer stuff?” you slur as you crack your neck side to side.

“Yeah. But you should go home already.”

You blink several times as you check the wall clock across the room for the time. “Okay. Just e-mail it to me so I can do it before our next meeting.”

“No. Focus on your other shit then continue it when we meet next time,” he sternly says.

“We’re already behind schedule, Tsukishima. Just send it to me,” you insist despite how faint your voice is.

“I said no.” He doesn’t dislike you enough to make you overwork yourself to death. 

You close your eyes again and shake your head in surrender. “Fine. I’m too tired to argue further.”

Just when you’re about to stand up, he grabs your arm to stop you. Your eyes open up as you peer at him with confusion.

“I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” he utters with his best attempt to sound unbothered. 

Your brows crumple up from his statement that came out of nowhere. He just hopes that your fatigued self figures out what he’s referring to because he doesn’t want to elaborate on it. 

Sure enough, a palpable glint of understanding shows in your face when your mouth opens to form a silent “ah.”

“That, huh?” You respond just as vaguely as he had been. “Don’t worry about it,” you come up with a thrifty smile as you return your gaze to him.

“You were right anyways. It is a moronic idea. I just thought that maybe if we just let it ride out, it’ll pass. But meh. I just misread it and thought you enjoyed it as much as I do,” you explain in a nonchalant manner despite the confession that came along with it in the end.

Then, you giggle disorientedly. “You can rest easy now, Tsukishima. These disgusting lips of mine won’t come anywhere near you again, mkay?” 

He should be relieved, rejoicing even, that he’s pushed you away enough to keep your distance from him.

Yet what you said is gnawing at him for he didn’t say that. He never said your lips are disgusting.

Admittedly, he regrets kissing you on both occasions that it happened, but he’s never thought of it as disgusting.

Infuriating, yes, but not disgusting. 

“I’ll go fix my stuff now,” you say.

“They’re not disgusting,” he utters before you get off the couch. 

You look at him with vacant eyes that have begun to droop heavily again as a yawn comes out of you. You cover your mouth with your hands then lazily drop them to your lap afterwards.

You open your eyes and try to focus your sight again.

“Sorry, I conked out for like three seconds. Did you say something?” 

On a regular day, he’d think that you’re messing with him so he’ll repeat what he said. But the exhaustion still evident on your face convinces him that you really didn’t hear what he said. 

“Yeah,” he responds flatly before he leans closer to your face. He tilts his head a bit to the side and gently captures the warm softness of your lips.

The kiss lacks the heated intensity the previous two had. It is just one tender nip where he lingers just a tad bit longer to savor the taste of coffee mixed with your own.

He slowly withdraws from you but remains only an inch away that he still feels your breath mingling with his. 

“Your lips aren’t disgusting,” he repeats for you to hear this time.

Part 3 || Part 5 || masterlist

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