tsukki having a thing for kuroo’s hands
this was asked of me on January 31st 2025.
kei stiffens. it’s not a thing, really. behind the thin wire frame of his glasses, golden eyes blink as if they couldn’t fathom where the accusation came from. he insists he feels no more tenderness than is appropriate towards his lover’s hands.
he notices your hesitation.
and, in any case, he continues with a dismissive wave, tetsurou’s hands are exceptionally beautiful. anyone, really everyone, can see the appeal. their span is wide and elegant, like the wing of a bird. but they’re by no means delicate, he assures. tetsurou’s fingers are long enough to clasp around the back of kei’s thigh as they lie in bed, back to chest. they are thick enough to disappear kei’s own splayed palm when rested atop, like a quilt over a made bed. they are surprisingly tough with the callouses leftover from volleyball. and they are often warm, even in the dead of winter. kei has poor circulation, you see. if he and tetsurou are always holding hands, it’s a simple matter of heat transfer, of maintaining equilibrium. and so what if he likes to be held? doesn’t everybody?
that’s actually the best part, he tells you. the best part is how tetsurou doesn’t seem to know his own strength, how he always holds on a little too tightly, how he frequently squeezes harder for reassurance. kei confesses he’s never been sure if the reassurance is for him, or for tetsurou. but the effect is felt regardless. he explains, in unsolicited detail, how tetsurou does the same with the nape of his neck, cradling and squeezing as they chat amiably on a park bench or watch a movie in a theatre. he’s not trying to be possessive, though it might appear that way to a stranger. it’s simply automatic. it’s simply their normal.
that’s it, kei finishes, eyes distant, chin rested in his palm, smile small and fond, that’s the word. his feelings for tetsurou’s hands are perfectly normal.
jacobvanloon
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