“You keep running your mouth,” Tsukishima muttered near your ear, his hand slipping around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Don’t act surprised when I shut you up.”

Before you could throw something smart back at him, his lips were on yours — firm, controlled, like he was trying to make a statement. You reacted on instinct, hands rising to push him back, but he caught them mid-motion, slamming them gently against the wall above your head and holding them there with one hand.

The movement made your breath catch — not out of fear, but surprise. Maybe something else, too.

“You don’t need these,” he said coolly, eyes locked on yours. “So stop fidgeting.”

Your fingers twitched in his grip, but you didn’t pull away. Not really. You could’ve — Tsukishima wasn’t that much stronger — but something in the way he looked at you made you freeze. Just for a second. Just long enough for him to notice.

His eyes narrowed.

“Exactly,” he said under his breath, like he’d confirmed something. “You act tough, but you’re easy to read.”

He leaned in again, kissing you slower this time, lips pressing down with careful, maddening precision. His body kept yours firmly in place, and though your hands flexed slightly in his grasp, you didn’t fight it. Your breath came shakier than before, and your legs shifted just enough to part for him without even thinking.