#shouyuos

[toorues]

❝ did you sleep well? ❞ i just think. oihina mornings... thats it ^_^

the kitchen is always warm, lately. it could be that shouyou remembers to turn the heater on where tooru never has. it could be that shouyou took one look at tooru’s small apartment and immediately saw it as a home, where tooru hadn’t, before. to tooru, it’d always been an in between place, a roof over his head to while away the moments between practice sessions and other schedules. he’d gotten into the habit of spending as much time as possible outside to ward off the cold, but that was before shouyou. with shouyou there the place felt more like home, maybe because of the heater, but privately tooru thinks it’s more likely that shouyou’s presence in itself radiates warmth to a degree that could rival the sun.

the warmth spreads through his chest and makes its way up his throat, manifesting in an indulgent look of fondness on his face. it’s early, and tooru can’t quite muster up enough energy to care that he’s probably ruining his image for this. (what image, the makeshift shouyou in his head teases, i’ve seen your bedhead.)

“hm,” he hums, pretending to consider the question. tooru makes his way over, draping an arm over shouyou’s shoulder into a lazy hug, letting himself dissolve into weightlessness and trusting shouyou to hold him together. “i woke up better.”

@shouyuos, prompt.

[toorues]

“shouyou,” tooru bursts into the room, eyes comically wide and arms flailing frantically, “there’s a huge emergency. can you come downstairs quick?”

@shouyuos, for no special reason in particular haha♥

[toorues]

@shouyuos, continued.

for all he tries to cover up insecurity with bravado, tooru would never admit to being perfect. when he looks back, memories of those days of despair are easily evoked even now — the phases of questioning if this was truly what he was meant for, if this was the limit of his reach — and like a dear friend, he holds those struggles close.

if he remembers how he felt then, and how far he’s come, nothing seems insurmountable in comparison.

tooru’s locking the door behind him when shouyou rises to meet him at the entryway, as has become ritual for them, and tooru, ever the analyst, narrows his focus instantly to the unmistakable deviation from their norm, cataloguing the uncharacteristic lethargy dragging shouyou down. he knows how it feels, he thinks, and plants his feet, letting gravity ground him so he can steady shouyou in turn.

“i’m home,” he agrees with a smile. his arms rise to wrap around his boyfriend, rubbing reassuring circles into shouyou’s back as tooru abandons any notion of even taking his shoes off for the moment. now that he’s here, he’s in no hurry to be anywhere else.

he doesn’t ask, either; there’ll be time to talk about it later. for now, tooru lets his worries be: he understands, all too well, that some feelings are too amorphous to be crammed into the shapes of words.

“i’ve got you,” tooru hums, “i’m here as long as you need me.”

[toorues]

“ngh… mnn…” there’s a look of intense focus on his face, concentration unwavering as he carefully shifts the gear in his hand forward while keeping his eyes on the prize. with all his experience on the court, tooru’s never been the type to experience performance anxiety, but in this unique instance he thinks he might understand how it feels, even if he’s performing only for an audience of one. palpitations, check. sweat buildup, check—

his grip on the console slips and destroys his hard earned progress in one fell swoop. the claw makes a sad little click as it retracts, emptyhanded. “agh, i give up!! hey, shouyou, help me out here!”

@shouyuos, ♥.