this is right even for me

[P4] Dance

Tsukishima ran a hand down Kuroo’s back, the other resting on the his neck, and pressed their bodies together. He pressed his lips to Kuroo’s ear and breathed, “Move those hips of yours, Kuroo.”

“Oh I know I’m on tonight, my hips don’t lie,” Kuroo sang with a huge grin, resting his hands on Tsukishima’s hips and shifting their weights. He pouted when Tsukishima practically jumped away with a scowl, pushing him away.

“Really?” Tsukishima asked, disbelievingly and incredulous. Kuroo whined and tried reaching for him. “Tsukki, come on.”

Tsukishima kept him away with two hands on his shoulders and Kuroo yielded, stepping back. “Did you really just sing that.”

Kuroo cleared his throat before singing with a shit-eating grin, “Oh baby when you talk like that, you-”

Tsukishima slapped his hand over Kuroo’s mouth, rolling his eyes, as he smacked the other’s shoulder with his free hand. “That wasn’t a go ahead and continue.”

Kuroo laughed behind his hand before pulling him closer by the hips. He let it happen, dropping his hand to rest on Kuroo’s shoulder. Kuroo nudged a knee between his legs and he automatically arched his back to press their chests together. Kuroo smirked, nudging Tsukishima’s nose with his nose. “There we go, now you’re getting into it.”

“Whose fault do you think it was that I wasn’t,” Tsukishima grumbled, placing his other hand on Kuroo’s side. The other hummed, rocking them from side to side. Tsukishima followed his movements, relaxing into the other’s hold. “You should do this in high heels.”

Kuroo sputtered, tightening his grip and drawing his head back to stare at Tsukishima. Tsukishima leered at him and he couldn’t help the heat that spread across his face. “You’d be taller than me with heels. It’s not like you can’t dance in them.”

“I don’t need to be!” Kuroo weakly protested. Tsukishima snickered but said nothing else, body easily lowering into the movement of their practiced routine. Kuroo quickly followed along, though not without the faintest hints of an embarrassed blush on the bridge of his nose.

The two of them flowed together, familiar with the routine, arms and legs hooking each other and pulling and pushing the other whenever needed. Tsukishima fluidly undulated his hips as he straddled Kuroo’s thigh, Kuroo effortlessly matching his rhythm as they lowered themselves down.  

Once they straightened up again, Tsukishima backed away and ran his hands down Kuroo’s arms to entwine their fingers. He pulled them into the steps for a salsa and Kuroo followed his lead without a hitch, not minding the sudden change.

Though there was no music, Tsukishima easily led them through the dance, going to an tempo only he could hear. He spun Kuroo around before restarting the dance once again and fluidly handed the lead position over. Kuroo picked it up just as fluidly and led Tsukishima through a series of footwork as they danced around each other, at times both hands clasped firmly together.

The moment Kuroo led them into their finishing pose, Tsukishima immediately twisted so that he had one hand in Kuroo’s hair and pressed his back into the other’s front, his other hand bringing their clasped hands to his waist.

“I think we had a good enough practice,” Tsukishima stated, short of breath. Kuroo brought them closer together and buried his face into his neck with a laugh. “Is this why you went through the dances so fast?”

“We practiced them all, we can leave.”

Tsukishima threw a heated look over his shoulder and tugged the hair his fingers were buried in. He then rolled his hips, his entire body flowing with the movement, and grinded back into Kuroo. Kuroo’s breath hitched even as he reflexively reacted to Tsukishima’s movement from years of dancing together, his free hand coming to grab at Tsukishima’s side- encouraging the movement.

“Let’s go home.”


“Let Kyohei complain to you. I’m sure he needs to.”

(For the Lovely @dotaccino)


I really wanted to draw their cowlick/antenna.

I know things are terrible right now but take a look at my cat. She’s fine. She’s content. She doesn’t even know what a President is. All she’s worried about is when I’ll give her breakfast and whether the bed or the sofa is the better sleeping option. No matter what happens all is well in the world of my cat. Even if the world goes to hell, she is happy.

Me: *reads a decent YOI review*

Reviewer: *accuses YOI of cheap fanservice and disgusting queer-baiting*

Me: *has read a bad YOI review*

Learning how to draw the whole gang slowly but surely. Here’s a little Keyleth on very bad paper