( before he can even fully grasp what's happening, oikawa has his hand fisted in his shirt and something begins to sizzle in ushijima's mind. it isn't really anger — he's slow to temper because he just doesn't see the point in unrestrained fury — but it's definitely something intense. he can feel heat roiling off oikawa's body and they're close enough that when he takes a slightly deeper breath they're touching at a few different points.
it is... different. strange, almost, because he isn't used to feeling urges like this. his hands curl into fists at his sides in a bid to attempt to calm whatever might be stirring up inside of him. he's already forgotten about the things he's eaten and that those things are what's lending to this feeling right now as his focus has narrowed to oikawa.
he's listening to him, mostly, at the very least he hears what he says and understands the gist of it, yet nothing is really sticking. heat winds up around him, and he can almost feel the way it moves from his feet, up his legs, and further until it crests over the crown of his head and unfurls in a tingling sensation that sliters down his neck and back.
he's not so stupid that he doesn't understand what this feeling is, but this is oikawa who's yelling at him over something ushijima really doesn't understand. why is he so damn difficult to deal with? )
What sort of joke would that be? I am only an enemy inside your head, Oikawa. ( he pauses for a moment, makes a move to touch him but thinks better of it and keeps his hands to himself. ) You were there, Iwaizumi was there, Kageyama was there, Hinata was there. Argentina won the gold in men's volleyball. You can choose to believe whatever you wish, I cannot make you.
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it is... different. strange, almost, because he isn't used to feeling urges like this. his hands curl into fists at his sides in a bid to attempt to calm whatever might be stirring up inside of him. he's already forgotten about the things he's eaten and that those things are what's lending to this feeling right now as his focus has narrowed to oikawa.
he's listening to him, mostly, at the very least he hears what he says and understands the gist of it, yet nothing is really sticking. heat winds up around him, and he can almost feel the way it moves from his feet, up his legs, and further until it crests over the crown of his head and unfurls in a tingling sensation that sliters down his neck and back.
he's not so stupid that he doesn't understand what this feeling is, but this is oikawa who's yelling at him over something ushijima really doesn't understand. why is he so damn difficult to deal with? )
What sort of joke would that be? I am only an enemy inside your head, Oikawa. ( he pauses for a moment, makes a move to touch him but thinks better of it and keeps his hands to himself. ) You were there, Iwaizumi was there, Kageyama was there, Hinata was there. Argentina won the gold in men's volleyball. You can choose to believe whatever you wish, I cannot make you.