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Moonlit Night

Chapter Text

Yamaguchi slowly put away the bottle of wine, sighing softly as he looked at the time on his wrist watch. Two hours to go, and his shift will be done. He'll be able to go back home and relax, maybe order some take out because he's too lazy to cook and snuggle on the couch while listening to some stupid documentary he's so fond about. But he still got two hours of work to go.
When he stood up from his crouching position, bottle of wine still in hand, he was met face to face with a blond man, sitting infront of him at the bar. Yamaguchi froze on the spot, eyes widening as their eyes met. He broke away from the other male's face, turning his head to the side, searching for his collegue. When he found him, he quickly ran and came to a stop. "Do you uh... Do you know where I can put this bottle? There's no place left in the uhh..." he pointed to the wine fridge underneat the counter behind him, and his collegue made a small 'Ah!' and took the wine bottle from Yamaguchi's hand. "I got it, don't worry" he said as he walked away.

The browned haired boy watched his collegue go, and when he looked back up, the blond man was still there, glacing nervously at his watch from time to time. Yamaguchi dusted his black jacket before walking towards the blond, a blush creeping on his cheeks. "What can I get for you today, sir" he said, gently placing the palms of his hands on the side of the counter. The other boy glanced up over his thicked rimmed glasses to lay is eyes on the freckled boy. Immeaditly, he turned away, his finger following the indents on the counter nervously. "Whiskey, please" was his answer.

Yamaguchi backed away from the counter, a small smile playing on his lips. He reached for the bottle of Jack Daniel's on the shelf behind him, but knocked another bottle on the way and it hit the ground, scattered glass mixing with the maroon colour of the liquid the bottle once contained. The freckled boy swore under his breath, looking around anxiously. He crouched and started to pick up the broken pieces of glass.

"Are you okay?" When he glanced up from where the voice came from, he saw the blond customer leaning forward over the counter of the bar, worry filling his eyes. Yamaguchi laughed softly, nodding his head, "It happends all the time, don't worry... You don't know how many times I've had to pay because of broken bottles".

Ten minutes later, the mess was gone.

Twenty minutes later, Yamaguchi and the blond man were chatting awkwardly.

Thirty minutes later, Yamaguchi knew the other boy's name: Tsukishima Kei.

The rest of his shift was performed in silence, which was, from times to times, broken by the interaction between Yamaguchi and the other customers, and the soft music in the background. He cleaned the last glass of the night, wiping it with a white cloth eagerly. He went to put it away under the counter, and when he came back, Tsukishima was leaving. On the counter, there sat a small note, along with a bill of twenty. 'I felt bad for the incident' was scribbled in a very rushed handwriting. Under the message, there was a phone number. A smile formed on Yamaguchi's lips.

But he knew he wouldn't use it.

Chapter Text

Lowering his cup after taking a sip of the tea it contained, Yamaguchi read the last sentence of his History textbook. He sat the tea cup on the desk in front of him, sinking deeper in his chair as he picked up his pen to start writing pointless notes in his notebook.

Pointless is not really what the notes are. Yamaguchi just likes to think they are, because he knows he's just going to forget about everything the second his test is done. One week of intense studying, just to forget everything at the end? Pointless.

And motivation. That was something that left him long ago. He was still struggling to get up in the morning, to even eat anything, his frail, weak stature being the first visible sign. He was struggling just to make enough money to survive alone, because his parents failed to take good care of him, to help him through his college life. Hell, Yamaguchi didn't even know the last time he saw them.

But he still had to study, because the only way he could do anything with his life, was by getting an education and finding a better job. Everything was pilling up on his shoulders, weeks after weeks: college, his job at the bar, the rent he failed to pay two months ago. He was dragging all of it everyday of his life. He endured it. What else was he supposed to do?

Yamaguchi realized he had spaced out for a good 15 minutes before he shook his head and sat up straighter, his spine atrociously painful. His eyes wondered to his phone, from where music evacuated at a steady rythm. His eyes traveled a bit further, and ended up on that piece of paper. It was turned face down, but the freckled teen knew exaclty what was written on it.

After Tsukishima left the other day, Yamaguchi couldn't stop reading that damn sentence over and over again. That sentence that kept making him want to take hold of his phone and call the blond straight away. That was just something he couldn't do. Adding a significant person in his life would be too much to handle, too much distraction, he kept telling himself, but at the same time...

What could go wrong? It's been so long since Yamaguchi ached for someone to drag their hands across his back, massaging his neck and shoulders, always so tense because of the stress. Those hands making their way down, gently gliding up and down his thighs, sometimes going a little to high, making him squeal and blush a darker shade of red.

All at the same time, a pair of lips would be roaming about everywhere they could get access to. His neck, shoulders, ears, his back, his cheeks, scaterred with those annoying freckles... And also his lips. Those cold and chipped lips. So empty and lonely, aching for a desperate kind of warmth, just a small kiss... Is it too much to ask?

Yamaguchi didn't want to push his luck. Tsukishima probably only wanted a friend, someone to talk to. Not a weak and skinny boy that already likes him very much. Because yes, Yamaguchi had felt something when he saw the blond that time at the bar. He felt hot and he blushed, oh! he blushed such a deep shade of red. He made him feel different, like some type of want and lust at a level he had never experienced before.

Yamaguchi took the paper slowly between his fingers, turned it around a couple of times. He folded it in two first, then in four. His eyes closed, and he let out a sigh as he got up and walked to the kitchen. In the trash it goes. Yamaguchi really didn't need this right now.