"Oh, yeah, you're still blind as a bat there, aren't you," says Bokuto, breaking the contact of their hips for a moment. 'As a bat' probably wasn't fair or accurate, but this didn't stop him from giving Tsukishima a jovial pat on the shoulder as he unstuck himself from between the first year's legs.

"There's some blankets over here. Kinda dirty, but..." He squinted his eyes against the clouds of dust that sprang up as he shook the top one out. Well, no rats or spiders, so it was fine, right? He laid a few of them down, ignoring the little wobble in his knees and the way the fabric of his shorts ground into his slit with a reminder of unfinished business. God, if he could just rub himself off against Tsukki's milky legs a couple times -- or something more than that -- "Here. Take my hand."

The floor between the makeshift bedding and the workbench was a bit precarious, after all, what with all the stuff they've knocked over since coming in here. He extended the arm out to Tsukishima, palm up, without glancing back. He kind of didn't want to see the blond again until he was spread out beneath him, if he could manage that.