Thousand
He doesn't realize when the change happened, the shift from co-workers to drinking buddies to friends to this, and Ukai can't seem to find it himself to care.
Takeda is slumped over the edge of his couch, and his glasses are crooked, digging into the soft skin along his temple, and are no doubt going to leave a mark.
He wants to reach out and pull them from him, set them aside as if that would somehow make the older man more comfortable.
He looks tired and he must be, to allow himself to fall asleep with Ukai around.
"It's such a waste, Ukai-kun! I don't want to sleep when I can speak with you."
He has said, on multiple occasions, even when he is dead on his feet, and his body looks as if he will fall over at the slightest wind gust. Even then, he still wants to sit and drink and talk, to listen to Ukai's foolishness.
Ukai's lips twitch at the memory.
This is another one, another memory he wants to catch and hold forever. He pushes away his drink and settles down further into the couch. Even from here he can feel the heat that Takeda radiates, and the now familiar twinge of longing deep in his heart, the want to bring him close and have him nestle near, flush against his side.
When did the shift happen?
He wants to remember, strives to remember a time before Takeda-sensei, before his smile, his eagerness to serve and the exuberance he shows in every little thing. He can't really; all of it gray and boring in the light of Takeda shining in his life, bringing in new and exciting things, even if he had gone in almost kicking and screaming.
Well, no. Not like that, actually... He was seduced into it, wasn't he? He went because Takeda showed him something he wanted, and then stuck around and became something else he wanted.
He has the volleyball team, has dreams now, goals that he wants to reach. He is admired and praised and doesn't that feel nice.
Yes, it feels very nice to hear Takeda delightfully tell him that he is so cool and a skilled coach. He likes to listen to him go on about how much the teacher feels indebted, that there was no way he could have done half of what Ukai has "supposedly" accomplished. He likes to hear those things, even if it makes him blush, makes his heart beat frantic fast in his chest, and he knows that half of it isn't true.
He is staring, he realizes, at the soft curves of Takeda's face, feeling a sense of peace and rightness in the world to see the other man be still, give in to sleep.
Ukai leans in closer, unconsciously, as if he being nearer will help the longing in his chest, loosen the tight wind of his desires. It doesn't and he knows that nothing but giving in will help.
He really wants to take the glasses off now. They look uncomfortable, pressing into the bridge of his nose. He should just carefully pull them off and place them on the table for safe keeping. It's not, he tries to convince himself, an excuse to touch the man, to see if the memory he has of when they have touched is close to the real thing. It's not, he thinks, frowning as his hand twitches at the phantom feel of soft skin under his palm.
He doesn't, in the end, either because he is a coward or because he is stronger than his desires. He can't determine which one he wants to admit to yet.
So he sits there, staring, like some teenger, not like someone well on their way to middle age.
It's strange to think that Takeda, with his generous smile and large eyes, is also there ahead of him on that particular path. He looks so young, too young. It's not only his looks, though, it's more. It's how he approaches everything, like a youth on their first leg of life where everything is new and exciting, wanting to know and learn at every chance he gets, taking joy in little things and not afraid of leaping head first into some unknown fire.
If anyone should be praised and admired, it should be him.
Ukai scratches his head, his finger catching his headband and pulling. His hair falls and he suddenly sees that he should cut it soon. He's too old to be styling it like this. He looks back over to Takeda and he wonders what the sensei thinks.
Takeda stirs as if roused from the wandering ever constant thoughts of Ukai. His eyes open, barely slits and hazed, and they look up at Ukai who is trying not to stare even if Takeda looks so soft and adorable.
"Ukai-kun..." He says, softly, and he lifts himself from his curved position and looks at the blonde sheepishly. "Ah... I fell asleep, didn't I?"
There is a red mark of indentation on the small elegant line of his nose, and his glasses, as always, are askew.
"You did. I must've bored you to sleep." Ukai replies, teasing. He needs to distract himself, because he shouldn't focus on the shape that Takeda's lips take when he says his name or how the sight of a blushing embarrassed, sleep disheveled sensei makes his heart pound like a bird fluttering in a cage.
"I'm very sorry. I can't believe I did." Takeda starts, tinted red and his eyes, still sleep filled, look extremely apologetic.
Ukai waves a hand dismissively, "It's okay. It's good to know that my old high school stories are of some use for something to someone."
"Oh. I do like hearing about you, Ukai-kun. I know me falling asleep doesn't help my case, but I really do."
He says it so sincerely that Ukai believes him, he knows the teacher doesn't lie, and that thought makes him warm all over and he hopes that he isn't blushing.
"I'm sorry I imposed like this, Ukai-kun. I should go."
Ukai wants to protest, but he has no right and he can't seem to even form words, so he just nods. Takeda shuffles and stands, looking rumpled and heavy eyed.
Ukai had to look up at him and he is about to thank the teach for another quiet fun night when he stops.
Takeda is intently staring down at him, his eyes flickering gold and rich amber. His staring is unnerving Ukai. He can't help the frown that forms on his face, probably in order to hide the blush now definitely rising to his cheeks.
"Wh-What...?" And shit, did he stutter? Takeda blinks, shifts, and then reaches out a small hand to very lightly touch the loose blonde hair falling around his face.
"Your hair...It's nice like this."
Ukai swallows hard and tries not to lean into the touch. He wishes that he could feel the too light fingers.
"Th-Thanks." He stutters again and it's really like he is a dumb teenager. Takeda seems to drag the youth out of him.
Takeda blinks again, and he leans in closer, running his hands in to thread between the long strands. Ukai bites his tongue because it feels good and he wants more. "I didn't know it was this long."
"It's the hair band. I keep it back 'cause it's too fuckin' long. I need to cut it." His voice sounds weird over the rush of blood pounding away though his ears and he starts yammering, "Been meaning to. I haven't had time. It's weird."
"I like it like this." Takeda says softly and he seems to be closer. Or maybe it's Ukai that's lifting himself to be nearer. It's not fair that Takeda is doing all the touching. He wants to reach out and grab onto the hand hanging at his side, and his fingers twitch in response to the thought. It warms him to think that Takeda likes his hair at all, foolish as that sounds.
"Not that it's my place to say anything. Merely my opinion."
He's edging closer and Ukai's sharp eyes drop down to see his lips, how his mouth has gone into a familiar gentle smile. He flicks back to his eyes, clear and bright behind his glasses.
He wants to kiss him, so he speaks to control himself, to focus on his words, "Your opinion matters to me."
The smile curves more, glasses drooping down, and he looks beautiful. "I'm glad, Ukai-kun. I have always liked your hair. So distinctive, like the dawn, when the sun is chasing away the darkness."
They're pretty words that Ukai knows he doesn't deserve and he inhales deep at the description that seems too poetic to describe a grumpy smoking bad mouthed volleyball coach.
He wants to say something, something as catching as Takeda's words, but anything he says will just be babbling from his often empty mind.
Takeda is so close now and his smiles turns mischievous, "Was that too poetic? Did it turn you off?"
Ukai manages to laugh, even if his entire body is tense, waiting, anticipating soft contact of lips, "No, sensei. You don't- I mean, you-"
He wants to say that nothing the man does could possibly turn him off, but he is stumbling in his thoughts, nerves short circuiting at the rush of breath sweeping over his own lips from Takeda's mouth, his lips still parted in a genuine smile, and Ukai wants to taste him.
But he hovers, fingers digging into his pants and his head leaning into Takeda's soft touch.
They have to kiss, it would kill him if he didn't get to kiss the man, feel intimately the soft of his lips, the heat of his breath. He hesitates, though, even if they have been here before. It's always frightening, tittering over this edge of unknowns.
And it's Takeda, of course, that leans in even if Ukai is sure his desire to kiss is ten times more than that of the teacher's.
It's not the first time, they have caved before, but every time it's a new experience. The hands sink into his hair and Ukai tilts upward to search for more contact, his hand finding the small one of Takeda's.
He tastes the alcohol, heady and full. He feels wonderful and Ukai's other hand comes up to grasp the back of his head, dipping into the rich black softness of his hair. He drags him closer until Takeda is leaning on him for support, both hands digging into blonde strands, lips opening to suck in a breath, and catching tongue in the process.
It turns from the innocent chaste contact to something more, and Ukai can't help but lean back and have Takeda fall into his lap, his light weight no burden, only pleasure as they kiss. His glasses are in the way, fogged and knocking every time they lean for another touch, and they have to tilt so that it's less of a nuisance. It's like he is in high school, hormones controlling his every movement, his every thought. His hand falls from its grasp on the black hair to the nape of his neck, then down to the curve of his spine. He is greedy and when they part for air, Ukai presses into the skin of his neck, kissing him until Takeda let's out a sigh, a breath of satisfaction. It rings in his ears and shoots lightning bolts of desire all through him.
Takeda drops his hands to his shoulders, squeezing tight, tossing his head up to give Ukai more access.
He appreciates the offer, moves his lips up to his ear, tugging at the soft flesh, and Takeda hisses in response, jerks his hips forward.
"Ukai-kun." He breathes and pulls away. Ukai wants to go back to his neck, memorize the feel of it under his mouth. "Ukai-kun..." It's more insistent, and Ukai groans and leans back, hands drifting to his hips, "I know, I know."
He doesn't want to let go, to stop kissing but it's dangerous and the volleyball team flashes in his mind. They need him and they need Takeda, and it's that thought that makes him nod and help the teacher to his feet. They stand there in the small room and Ukai keeps his gaze on the ugly lamp that was given to him a few years back. "I'm sorry." He finally says, his breath rushed and heavy.
Takeda fixes his glasses and he reaches out to lightly caress the edge of Ukai's limp hand. "Don't be. I started it and I wanted it. I miss you."
Ukai swallows hard and leans down so that his lips touch the tips of tickle soft hair. It's strange that they still miss each other, even if they see each other everyday, talk and laugh together, it's nothing like what they could have.
"I'm going to go, Ukai-kun. I'll see you tomorrow."
He wants to offer the teacher the chance to stay, so that he can stare and dream, but he knows that the temptation is too much and they can't risk it, not when it would affect the kids they have grown to love. This is enough, whatever this is. So he breathes in, trying to fill himself with him until the next time they can indulge.
Ukai pulls away and moves to the front door, "Right. I'll take you."
He predicts Takeda's reply before it happens, "Oh no, Ukai-kun, you must be tired and you have to get up early and walking me home is needless and-"
"And nothing. I'm taking you, sensei. That's that." His tone takes the same pitch of that when he snaps at the damn brats and Takeda starts, then nods and smiles, "Yes. Of course, coach." He says, voice vaguely laughing and Ukai flushes, embarrassed.
The night is cold and Takeda shivers next to him, and it's so hard to resist the urge to wrap himself around him and keep him warm. The night stars are almost invisible in the washing light of the signs of the streets.
They are quiet, reflective, as they make their way to Takeda's humble home. They don't need to say anything, and while Ukai wonders what is on the sensei's mind, the quick movement of his eyes and the quirk of his lips hints that it's probably about what they did in his dingy, plain room.
"Reminds me of a poem." The teacher speaks, cutting into the dark silence of the night, very abrupt, randomly "A thousand years I could spend with you, and yet of your presence, I will never be sated."
It sounds so right coming from him, words that pierce into his soul and makes him feel unearthly, touch his heart and he is reminded that there's beauty in the world; Takeda sees that world and gives Ukai glimpses of it.
He is relaxed, his eyes kind, and smile small, but meaningful.
"That was too poetic, sensei. You're wasting it on me, don't you think?"
The teacher's smile grows brighter, "Of course not, Ukai-kun." He stops walking altogether, turns to fully face him, looking up and his deep hazel eyes flash truth, "It's about you."
Ukai's breath catches like he's been hit in the stomach by a stray volleyball and he feels his knees almost buckle. What can he say to that? He can't think beyond the utter delight running through his veins and his pleasure fogged mind to cobble together a string of words with his limited vocabulary that can hope to compare, to properly convey what he feels.
"I-" He begins and gives up after a second, "I... yeah." He breathes and feels lame.
Takeda smiles and is too kind for his own good.
"I'm glad."
Ukai has never wanted to kiss the sensei so much before and the recent feel of his lips against him almost makes him forget that they're outside in the public eye, even if it's empty around. He leans closer, so he can whisper to him.
"Dont tempt me like this sensei. I'm not really known for my self control."
Takeda blushes and looks a bit shy as he lifts his hand to fix his glasses.
"I wish that there weren't so many eyes in the world so you wouldn't have to control yourself."
He steps away and begins walking again. "And I wouldn't have to either."
Ukai glances around and wants to risk an embrace, but he won't. He'll indulge tonight when he lays in his bed and imagines all the things that they could have done, if they lived in a bigger town, and they could blend in with the faceless crowd.
But for now, he can only close his hand and cherish the memory of their touch.
They walk back slowly to Takeda's apartment,taking their time, because even if they can't touch, it's good to be here, close enough to do so if a chasm of fear wasn't there. For now, Ukai must learn to be content with the opportunity to stare at the soft curve of Takeda's smile, the soft pink of his cheeks, and the fullness of his lips.
They say goodnight, amicably, and Ukai misses him from the moment that he disappears through the door.
As he walks home, he dreams. He dreams of a day that he doesn't have to restrain the urge to kiss the older man, not caring of who sees. He wishes for the day that he can keep Takeda warm on cold nights like this and fix those seemingly always crooked glasses.
It's not the time, not when so much of other people's lives depend on them. But perhaps one day, he will be able to listen to the quiet poetry of Takeda's mind as they lay in a bed together and hope for those thousand years.
He agrees, because even if he had eternity, he could never be satisfied.
He just hopes that eternity begins soon.