With a warm, unexpectedly keen stare, he studies his captain, who is kissing his knee. Even with eyes closed behind glasses, rough tongue darting out, there's something about him now that is decidedly non-sexual.

They say the Iron Heart is the shield of his team, the caring big brother, the protector. But Hyuuga is more protective, more protective in his own right, behind closed doors, in his heart. Only in his heart, until he took a leap of faith after practice one day and held Kiyoshi's hand.

He doesn't understand how exactly Hyuuga does it—those kisses that are gruff and sweet and unbearably light (Hyuuga's trademark bullshit). It sounds unbelievably cheesy, but they make his heart ache.

"It's alright. It's alright now, Hyuuga," Kiyoshi assures him with his tender papa bear voice (Kiyoshi's trademark bullshit).

"Shut up," comes the brusque reply. Though his tone betrays the frustration he feels, Hyuuga continues to rain more kisses on his knee. Maybe he's seeking absolution, or making up for lost time.

Kiyoshi remembers it well, how Hyuuga found him one winter day, clutching desperately at his newly-injured knee and trying not to lose his mind.

"It's cold," he offered a trembling explanation with a smile. "It hurts."

"And you never—" Hyuuga stopped, breathed deep. "You never let me know it's like this."

It's the first time Kiyoshi couldn't look him in the eye. Instead he fixed his stare at the hospital blanket pooled around him. "Only when it's cold."

"You useless fool," Hyuuga spit at him, bounding to his side. "Scream all you want. I can take it. Don't you dare insult me."

And Hyuuga held him then, and let Kiyoshi leave bruises on his back as his grip betrayed the pain. It was better. What Kiyoshi suffered was more than a shattered knee—fear, trauma, the shock of his dreams turned upside down. With Hyuuga, it was better.

Smiling, Kiyoshi decides to show him how alright his knee already is.

In the heat of things, Hyuuga suddenly pushes him off. "Shit. Shit. Wait. Stop."

Kiyoshi pulls back in confusion. When Hyuuga reaches out to the bedside table (knocking the lube off the edge), his hand stops his instinctively.

"Your glasses…" Kiyoshi tries to search for the right words that would not make Hyuuga punch him. "They won't work while I…"

Hyuuga groans impatiently. "I can't see. I…I feel like an idiot."

It blows Kiyoshi away, how he doesn't know. Hyuuga lies back there, hazy eyes on him, sweating despite the cold and panting without restraint, not knowing how he's making Kiyoshi spiral out of control. Finally he manages to say something.

"I like your unfocused eyes," Kiyoshi tells him, words tinkling with repressed laughter. "You look cute unguarded."

"You bastard—"

"Did I say cute?" Kiyoshi cuts him off, his voice dropping down an octave. The next comes in a growl. "I meant it's fucking hot. It turns me on."

Kiyoshi rough sexual bear mode on (Unknown trademark bullshit).


Hyuuga has to skip practice the next day.

A/N: This fic is inspired by a short doujin by enko (Pixiv I.D 150851). It's also posted in tumblr. The title used in this fic is also the title of the dj as to pay much-deserved respects to its creator. It's so unbearably sweet and cute that it immediately made me ship HyuuKi. This was supposed to be shorter but somehow…well, I'm always like that. Please PM me if you want a link to the dj, because whenever I try to paste the URL here erases it.