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Asahi's feathers are long. Long enough to span half the length of Yuu's arm as he reaches to lift a contour feather.
It took Asahi a long time to share the full extent of his wings. They sit large and bulky across his back; angular is a way that he's self-conscious about. By the time he reached high school, he resorted to binding his wings down under layers of clothes on most days. Even when he needed them out for balance, especially in volleyball, he'd keep them as close to himself as he could.
Never has he had them completely, wholly spread out like this for Yuu before.
"They're just another thing that scares people," he's said to Yuu. Yuu is no stranger to this fact, either. He sees the way people tuck their feathers when Asahi walks by, intimidated first by his size and then especially so by the size and color of his wings.
They're not a bright, welcoming orange like Hinata's, or a soft blue like Suga's. Their barred texture is almost the color of deep, rich caramel. Yuu has never seen anything more beautiful.
Asahi's marginal and secondary coverts cluster together in a way that's hard for him to preen himself, so he tends to neglect them to the point of breakage. It's only now that he's become comfortable enough to allow Yuu to sit behind him and preen them. One arm rests on his folded knee, and another tucks around Asahi's thigh, the result of his ushering the man to sit after he saw just how tense Asahi's shoulder muscles seemed during practice.
The entirety of one wing spreads across his lap and onto the floor. Yuu rolls a feather between his fingers and Asahi shivers.
"I know it's… not pretty." Asahi apologizes.
Preening is crucial for someone with wings. Without it, feathers become so brittle they tend to snap at any gust of wind. Most have friends or loved ones who help them preen. It's an intimate process, one that takes as much trust as it does time, but it's not exclusive to romantic relationships. Yuu hurts to think about just how much he's neglected himself because of his anxiety over being troublesome to others. He shakes his head, even though Asahi can't see it, and presses a kiss in the spot between his scapulae.
"Stop apologizing," he mumbles against the feathers. Asahi sucks in a breath and nods. Yuu leans back, gently pressing another feather between his fingers. They're rough, wiry things — even the ones that are supposed to be soft, due to their lack of care. Still, they feel… natural, running over Yuu's calloused fingers.
It continues like that for a while. The two of them sit in a comfortable silence. Yuu picks at Asahi's feathers, oiling the ones that are particularly dry and zipping others back together with a comb. He makes his way down from the scapulae to the primaries, gently nudging Asahi in a request to rouse his feathers every so often, and picking through his brittle feathers with care.
When he's done with Asahi's left wing a few hours later, he gets up to stretch and pulls Asahi up with him. It's dark out by now. He's glad he asked Daichi to give him the keys to the gym before he left, because it's far later than he had expected to stay when he impulsively pulled Asahi aside.
He bites his lip, contemplating. It doesn't take him long to reach his decision when he looks over at the man who's now fidgeting with the softer feathers of the preened wing, a soft, private smile growing on his face.
"You wanna sleep over at my place? I can finish the other after we eat some dinner."
Asahi looks at him, but his fingers never stop running through his feathers. They fluff a little, instinctively. "I'd like that."
Yuu grins in delight.