HONEY CULTURE, haikyuu

( just comfort skins. ) s. kiyoomi

sakusa kiyoomi

𝕴t's an unexpected surprise to say that sakusa is touch-starved.

he didn't know when it happened, all throughout his life he crinkled in disgust at the thought of touching another's skin, scattered thoughts of a million filthy dirt sticking on ochre flesh makes him almost tremble. he goes as far as to always have a mask plastered over his nose & mouth and bringing his trusty hand sanitizer with him at all times.

after years of the constant reminder of his pet peeve he finds himself chuckling on how easy it was to be comfortable around you. granted, when he first met you he treated you like all the others he treated; with contempt and distant sneers. but you were someone who was both soft and persistent.

first meetings turn into normal afternoon lunch hangouts, and when komori saw the thin statics between the both of you he smirks behind his calm face and a few weeks later sakusa finds his days and routines more involved with you, consisting more of your disgustingly sweet smile, disgustingly sassy remarks, and disgustingly small habits that sakusa finds himself picking up.

two three five months pass, he grew fond of you. he started to endure listening to your voice as you speak cheerily, endure your attempts of inviting the grumpy male into one of your daily shenanigans. he grew fond of your scent, of your smile and six months later he wouldn't believe himself when he said that the two of you were dating.

now, sakusa was attentive to every little thing that you did, things like how your simple nonchalant actions drive him crazy. how much he adored it when you ran your clean fingers through the messy tangles of his black curls, he loves the feeling of your soft cherry kisses all over the canvas of his oak skin, sakusa kiyoomi found your lips as his addicting drugs and he couldn't get enough. the male finds himself in the familiar covers of your shared bedroom, he drank the night into his lungs as his messy embrace around your frame makes him sigh in delight.

you had your face buried on his newly showered hair, his scent was fresh like linen, dark coconut and warm skies. you hummed softly, eyes closed as you run your thumb on one of his eyebrows lovingly. eversince you started dating the cautious volleyball player, you had habits: habits like rubbing your face on his hair, throwing simple kisses on his knuckles and fingers, and embracing him to your chest.

the bedroom was silent, only the busy chatter of vehicles - pumping in highway arteries - presses against the glass of your open window. you reach out to caress your cold fingers over his calloused one, you'd simply trace his soft skin; feather touched kanji's of i love you's and beautiful were rewritten over and over the back of his hand. telling him silently that he was perfect for you, so dear to you, you treasured the sleeping male wrapped around your arms like a lazy panda who snored all too comfortable for his own good.

    you leaned back to admire sakusa's soft features, then you'd lean close to kiss the two moles above his brows, your hand had left his own as you slowly unbutton two buttons of his pajama shirt, champagne skin peaking from underneath. your lips met his skin, over his warm pumping heart, sealing an unspoken kiss of promise, of comfort.

    you whispered coherent comforts on his skin like paper, and sakusa's lips tug upward into a ghostly smile. his messy bed skin burning with the soft flares of your candle-flavoured lips and fingers. he holds you closer, almost letting you mould and melt right into his chest and through his distant yet sensitive flesh that is only exclusive for you.

    "go to sleep, love." his baritone murmur pulls you into a comforting slumber.

end.