It has been too long, turning the kiss sharper then Tsukishima intends. There's just so much to take in at once. Heat and muscle, the smell of whatever Bokuto slathers on his hair.

So he tolerates another hug, then disengages. Sliding his hand down to Bokuto's. Taking a moment to come back to Earth.

"Oh? So you don't want the rest?"

Look. Sarcasm is a comforting default. Sometimes you need it.